by Sam Cheever
A throaty yowl brought me out of my musings and my head snapped up to peruse the alley in front of me. A round faced, one-eyed tabby cat strolled out of the darkness, his uncut musk an invisible cloud that stained the air around me. He whipped a crooked tail arrogantly and stopped a few feet away, dropping to his muscular haunches and fixing his single, yellow eye on me. Hey, Sugar. What’s a pretty little uptown thing like you doing in my downtown world?
I really wished I could roll my eyes. Apparently bad pickup lines didn’t get any better in the feline world. Sticking my pink nose into the air, I waved my tail lazily behind me, giving him my best ‘disinterested’ look.
The tom cat jerked his head. Want to go someplace and mate?
Apparently I needed to work on my projection of indifference. Not even a little bit. I was wondering if you could answer some questions for me.
He narrowed his one good eye. And why would I want to do that?
I started to shrug and then realized it wasn’t going to work in my current form. Because there’s something stalking the felines in this city and helping me might save lives. I deliberately left out that the lives we’d be saving weren’t strictly feline. Most were human Familiars, unable to shift. Contrary to human fantasy fare, true Familiars weren’t generally shapeshifters. Although about twenty percent of us were. And the ones who shifted came in a wide variety of forms. I even met a butterfly Familiar once.
The ratty tabby lifted a scrubby paw and ran his rough red tongue over it, trying for disinterest. Fortunately for me, he wasn’t any better at pretending apathy than I was.
You don’t have anyone on the streets you care about?
He gave the paw a few more licks and fixed his eye on me. You might want to talk to Posh.
Where would I find this Posh?
The street-worn tabby jerked his head toward Gattler’s. She squats there. The people seem determined to feed her.
Can you describe her to me?
He chuckled darkly. Trust me, you’ll know her when you see her. She’s kind of hard to miss.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THERE ARE CHALLENGES to moving through the streets as a cat. Especially a pure white cat with bright green eyes. I didn’t exactly blend with my surroundings. And opening doors was a particular challenge. I sat on the sidewalk, looking up at the door to Gattler’s and thinking people really shouldn’t take thumbs for granted. They were very useful things. Of course I could always twitch my nose, Bewitched-like, and open it with magic. However, as I mentioned before, there’s a price to be paid for every use of magic. So I restrict its use to times when I need it most.
Fortunately for me, the pair of giggling women who were too wrapped up in their conversation about a hookup the night before to notice a confused white cat on the sidewalk were going to solve my problem. As they approached, I scampered to hide behind a large planter filled with vibrant petunias, which, by the way, are a good choice for people looking for inspiration and fresh perspective.
The taller of the two women reached for the door handle and stopped. “You wouldn’t believe what he said to me when we left the bar...”
I wished in that moment I had eyebrows I could lift. Nobody in the general vicinity cared to hear about her unfortunate date. Including the slightly older blonde woman accompanying her into Gattler’s. I saw the blonde’s revulsion in the quick tightening of her thin lips. “I’m so sick of bad pick-up lines,” she said by way of cutting the other woman off.
I smiled inside. Smooth move.
“I know, right?” said the tall woman who had a large booger in her hook nose. Yeah, that’s one disadvantage of looking up from cat level. But at least she finally opened the door and, quick as a wink, I slipped through between their feet.
“Oh!” said the blonde, lifting one foot off the floor as if I were an oversized mouse. I scurried beneath a circular rack containing sixties era clothing, my feelings slightly hurt by her reaction.
I mean, whatup? Cats are people too.
I watched the two women move more deeply into the store and then left my hiding spot to go in search of the apparently infamous Posh. I didn’t have any luck and was eyeing a closed door at the back of the store, wondering if she was behind it, when a deep, gravelly voice accosted me.
Ya lookin’ for me, cher?
I didn’t totally embarrass myself. True, I might have given a little yowl of surprise at the close proximity of the unexpected voice, but I managed to spin around quite gracefully. Even if my tail did whip the air with adrenaline fueled exuberance. I blinked up at the creature draped, or maybe flowing, over the window seat at the front of the store.
The tabby in the alley had been right. Posh was hard to miss. Even though I’d somehow managed to do it for my first five minutes in the store.
So much for my tracking abilities.
Are you Posh?
Dat’s me. The feline inclined her massive head, approximately the width of my backside. She blinked eyes that were two colors. Her left one was a blue so bright it looked unreal, and her right one was an almost iridescent gold. Who’s askin’?
I... Stepping closer, I wondered if Posh didn’t have some Cheetah in her. I’d never seen quite that coloration of black and orange spots in a domestic cat. Particularly one so fat she didn’t recline so much as ooze over the seat. I’m LA. I’m looking into Tabitha’s disappearance.
The polka-dotted feline tilted her head, narrowing her strange eyes. “’Bout time somebody came to look for dat girl.”
So you noticed she was missing? I asked, jumping onto a wicker couch so we’d be at more of an equal height.
O’ course I noticed, cher. Dat was some kind o’ dark magic pouring through here dat day. Even ol’ dead head Gattler noticed.
I swung my gaze toward the checkout counter in the far corner. The man standing behind the counter looked to be about seventy years old, with wild gray-white hair and gray and black bristles peppering his cheeks and chin. He frowned across the store at the two women, his narrow shoulders stooped with weariness. I could tell with a quick read of the auras in the store that the owner didn’t have a lick of magic in him. Neither did the tall lady with the booger in her nose. Though the blonde seemed to jump a bit when I rolled my sensing magic over her, sliding a speculative blue gaze in my direction.
If I’d been human I would have frowned. Dark energy that was strong enough to touch non-magic humans was nothing to be trifled with. Can you tell me what happened?
Posh sighed. I wish I could, cher. I’ve thought about it a hundred times since den. I was raised in the Louisiana Bayou by a voodoo Queen. I saw a lot of weird stuff in dose waterways. Strange juju and squiggy stuff dat would make your skin crawl. Dis energy had a similar feel to it. But it weren’t voodoo. Dere wasn’t no death magic fueling it. But it was darker than Old Mr. Gattler’s thoughts anyways.
Dark magic that wasn’t fed by death... A chill swept over me. That was a new one. What happened to Tabby?
Posh lifted a leg as thick as my wrist and commenced to bathing, her dense black tail swinging lazily behind her.
I waited impatiently, realizing she was probably uncomfortable with the subject and wanting to give her time to adjust to it. Something told me a cooperative Posh would be a lot more productive than an uncooperative one.
The front door whooshed open and Posh’s head snapped up. The strange colored eyes narrowed with speculation at the young mother clutching an untidy boy’s hand. The kid caught Posh’s gaze and his eyes widened slightly before his mother tugged him toward a still scowling Gattler.
“Posh?”
She was happy dat day. The big cat kept her eye on the kid as he was pulled unwillingly across the store. He seemed to feel her perusal. His head, with its unruly cap of brown hair, swiveled continually in her direction. Everyt’ing was normal until lunch. Dat sweet girl give me my usual bowl of tuna salad and den scratched the spots I couldn’t reach jus’ like I taught her. She wriggled uncomfortably, her back leg snapping
straight out behind her as she tried to make herself comfortable again. Den a cold front moved in...
A storm? Outside? If the entity we were looking for could manipulate weather... I trembled slightly on the thought.
Nah, not outside. Dat wind were only inside dis store. It near froze my tuna in the bowl, cher. I ain’t lyin’.
Spectral influence? I asked.
She hissed a negative response. I felt ghosts before, cher. Da Bayou be thick wid ’em. Dis no ghost. It were magic. Ugly, fractured magic. And it wrapped around dat girl like a blanket, quick as a wink. She didn’t have no time to resist.
I thought about the force that had invaded my home that morning and shivered again. Her description sounded like my own experience. What happened then?
Posh shook her head, an action so human it gave me pause. I realized in that moment that, whatever Posh was, she wasn’t strictly feline. I considered sliding my sensing power over her but she hissed again. Don’t even think about it, cher.
I don’t know what you’re talking about.
Mm hmm.
Tell me what happened next.
Dat girl went all still, her eyes glazed over, and she stumbled forward, real jerky like. It was like watchin’ a zombie on TV.
I must have given some indication of my surprise because Posh’s whiskers twitched with amusement. Don’t go thinkin’ I can’t watch dat TV show, cher. I never missed a single episode. Dough I almost quit after dey killed off dat oriental guy.
They’re lucky they survived that, I agreed.
Truth, cher.
We sat in silence for a long moment. My thoughts had turned very dark. What Posh described sounded dire. What if Tabby’s soul had been taken? What if the entity had killed her and left a shambling corpse behind? It sounded too strange to be true. But if it was, my world was about to get a whole lot darker.
Dat t’ing take somebody you care about, cher?
I blinked furiously as tears filled my eyes. Yeah. My mom and Grandmama.
Awe, cher. I’m so sorry.
Her pity burned like acid and I jerked to my feet...erm...paws. Suddenly I had to get away. Thanks for your help.
I jumped down, intending to hurry out of there. But I jerked to a halt in front of the door, realizing I’d have to use my magic to get out. The humans were all across the store and it didn’t appear that any of them were planning on leaving anytime soon.
Unfortunately, the kid was staring right at me. If I magicked the door open he’d see.
The floor rumbled under a teeth-rattling thump and I jerked in terror, spinning around.
Posh ambled slowly in my direction, her body jiggling under the movement. I’ll get ya out, cher. Gattler listen to me.
Thanks.
No problem. She batted at the door and gave off a yowl so loud, the three women in the store jumped. The kid smiled widely and clapped his hands, clearly enjoying the Posh show.
Gattler turned a grumpy countenance in our direction and then, amazingly, smiled. “You need to go out, Miss Posh?” He came around the counter and hurried over, bending down to give the widely made feline a good scratch behind the ears. Her purr was loud enough to rattle the windows.
I’d ducked under an antique dresser when I saw him coming but I needn’t have bothered. He clearly had eyes only for Posh.
“Here ya go, girl.” Gattler twisted the knob and shoved the door wide. She gave him a wink and ambled on through, her tail whipping the air behind her massive backside.
I slipped quickly through on her heels. Thanks so much for your help. I’m sorry you’re stuck outside now.
Oh, don’t be sorry, cher. It’s time for me ta make my rounds anyway. She gave me a wink that strengthened my belief she was more than what she seemed. Y’all come back and see me again now. Y’hear?
It was a promise I wasn’t hesitant to make. I had a feeling Miss Posh and I would cross paths again. And I could honestly say I looked forward to it.
CHAPTER EIGHT
OVER THE CENTURIES, tens of thousands of magic users have fed energy into the barrier of the primordial forest. When injected into the barrier, magic energy is immediately absorbed and strengthens the warding that’s already there.
Theoretically, it becomes one, cohesive structure, no longer tied to the individuals who helped build it. In fact, the forest tax had been an important obligation for every magic user for as long as I could remember. Even as a tiny spell buster of five I could remember sticking my finger into the boundary and injecting a few spurts of power.
To the naked eye, it seemed a wholly homogenous structure. But there’s a moment...a beat in time...when crossing the power barrier into the forest, that the crosser is assailed by the chaos of the thousands of signatures forming the magic-made boundary. For the span of an eye blink, an alert user could catch glimpses of the barrier’s contributors. It was a flash web of a sort. A record of donors that couldn’t be controlled so it wasn’t much use to anybody.
Very rarely something important flashes through the passer’s system and it’s impossible to ignore. That was exactly what happened to me as I left the downtown streets to return to my car in the forest.
I stepped inside and was, as usual, assailed by images, thoughts, feelings and even scents. One feeling in particular stopped me in my tracks. I stood inside the barrier, the current of energy from untold Witches, pure Demons and demonic Familiars bombarding me, and tried to recapture the jolt of horrific fear I’d felt there. Someone had set a trigger within the boundary. A trigger meant specifically for me. And it had passed by so quickly I’d nearly missed it.
As it was, I wasn’t certain I could do anything with it.
But I had to try.
The magic cascading over me tingled against my skin, its tentacles biting and abrading in an effort to expel me from the barrier. I braced myself against it and fought to reclaim the rapid-fire message. It was impossible.
Despair swept me as I realized someone had been very desperate. It was nearly unheard of to send a message through the barrier. Only done in the most dire of circumstances. And the messenger had to be within the forest.
In frustration, and as the biting energy doubled its efforts to propel me from its depths, I realized I might have better luck if I weren’t in my animal form.
Though I had human thoughts for the most part as a cat, the feline brain did restrict me in some ways. So I closed my eyes and reached for transformative energy, feeling my flesh and bone twisting, elongating and transforming back to human. The pain was brief. My transformation blindingly quick inside the magic bubble, and almost as soon as it was complete, a single thought crashed into me, skittered across my senses, and dropped me to my knees.
Beware the web...barrier...death.
With a cry I was expelled from the barrier. I landed hard on the ground inside the warding, scraping across several feet of rocky ground before I came to a stop against a prickly bush.
My muscles throbbed. My head pounded. I lay there a moment embracing the look of horror that had flashed through my mind, trying to hold it close. Tears slipped silently down my face.
Feeling as if I’d gone twelve rounds with a Fire Demon from Hell, I crawled slowly to my feet and stumbled toward my car. I was infused with a depression so deep I wasn’t sure I’d be able to do what needed to be done.
I’d seen her. I knew where she was. And I had to go gather her up.
Then I needed to contact poor Brock. And tell him his pretty young cousin was the latest victim of the thing we were trying to find.
TABITHA LAY ON HER side beneath the delicate branches of an Ash tree. Her hair was damp, her skin glistening under a sheen from the mist of the nearby waterfall. She looked peaceful lying there, her long, dark lashes forming perfect arcs against her pale cheeks. Her legs were bent at the knees, slender feet inside inexpensive flip flops. She wore fringed denim shorts that barely covered her behind and a tee shirt with a glitter-enhanced broom on the front that read, “I brake for fallin
g stars.”
The shirt made me smile, even as tears slipped down my face.
Reaching out, I pulled my courage around me and touched her cheek. I expected a single, electrical jolt, her magic recognizing mine, but got instead a flare of electricity that sent me backward with a yelp. The stench of death magic filled my sinuses and I grimaced.
The energy infusing Tabby’s body wasn’t her own.
The touch left an oily, cold feeling on my fingertips. It made a darker stain on my heart. Sudden, almost violent rage filled me. The person who’d killed Tabitha needed to die. He deserved only the harshest death. And I was going to make sure he got it.
I blinked, shocked by my own thoughts, and pushed to my feet. I did a quick perusal of the body, making certain I didn’t touch her again, and saw that one long-fingered hand was fisted as if she were holding something. I got down on my knees, examining the hand, which was stretched high above her head and covered in defensive bruises. I couldn’t see what was inside. Her fingers were clutched too tightly.
Finally, I bit down on my fear, tensing against the expectation of pain, and grasped her hand. Nothing happened. Whatever had hit me before seemed to have been a one-shot deal. I quickly pried her fingers open and jerked back, feeling shock like a punch to the gut.
The killer had carved a bloody X in her palm, the edges torn and black as if he’d used a burning knife to create it.
Bile rose up in my throat and I surged to my feet, stumbling away from the body. I fought nausea, pacing a dozen feet away from Tabby with my hand over my mouth. I dreaded what I had to do next.
But it couldn’t be helped. Still, I let myself get lost in the oblivion of movement for a few more moments, until, conscious of encroaching darkness, I knew I had to face the task.
Pulling air into my lungs, I forced one foot in front of the other and returned to Tabby.
Her glazed, brown eyes stared up at me, filled with accusation.
She’d called out to me in her moment of fear. Begged me for help.