Hot Magic

by Catherine Kean

  To help protect Cat’s Paw Cove, Lucian’s grandfather had installed numerous magic-detecting devices in the area, including at the cemetery, the waterfront, the train depot and its underground tunnels, and at the historic Sherwood House.

  Today’s dark magic, though, hadn’t come from any of those places.

  Lucian pulled up another satellite image. With a few clicks of the mouse, the wide view narrowed to a residential area past The Cove on Sherwood Boulevard. A see-through, reddish circle covered several streets, but as Lucian zoomed in again, the red hue disappeared altogether.

  “At least we have a rough idea of where to find it,” Galahad said.

  Lucian frowned. “It’s strange it would show up for less than a minute and then disappear.”

  “Maybe the magic belongs to an object that was unearthed? Someone might have dug it up doing yard work but then buried it again.”

  “That’s possible.” Lucian pulled up a graph on the computer and whistled.

  “What?” Galahad demanded.

  “According to this information, the magic’s very old.”

  “How old? The era of the Spanish Conquistadors? The ones who built the castle at St. Augustine, or—?”

  “Older than that,” Lucian noted. “It’s also not native to Florida.”

  “Where’s it from, then?”

  “From what I’m reading here…Western Europe.”

  “Imported magic, then,” Galahad said, “like you and I.”

  “Mmm.” Lucian’s frown deepened. “Strength-wise, it was also close to a Category One.” Whoever had created the dark magic scale for Florida—Categories One through Five just like hurricanes—obviously had had a warped sense of humor.

  “Well, hopefully, just like a bad storm, the magic’s over and done with,” the squire said.

  Lucian continued scrolling. Nothing he was seeing explained why the magic would show up and then quickly vanish, unless…it had been taken out of a container designed to suppress magic and then put back in.

  Such vessels were rare, though. They’d become close to obsolete by the end of the Victorian era, when steel, steam, and machine production had replaced hand-crafting items out of natural materials like stone and wood. For magic to be attached to an object, the item had to be at least partially made, decorated, or finished by a living, breathing human.

  Galahad arched his back in a lazy stretch and faced Lucian. “Since the excitement seems to be over, I say we call it a night.”

  “The excitement’s over for now,” Lucian said, not taking his gaze from the laptop, “but the dark magic could show up again.”

  “Tonight, you mean?”

  “Yes, tonight. I’m going to wait here for a while, in case there’s another spike.”

  The cat grumbled. “I’m hungry.”

  As he’d done every evening when locking up, Lucian had put away Galahad’s bowls of food and water. “I can pour you some more crunchies—”

  “I don’t want boring kibble. I want the good stuff: canned duck dinner in gravy.”

  “Then you’re going to have to wait.”

  Galahad swatted at a pen lying beside the laptop—no doubt planning to knock the writing implement onto the floor just so Lucian would have to pick it up. “Your phone does send you dark magic alerts.”

  As if Lucian needed a reminder.

  “If after dinner you happened to get an alert, we’d come back to this room right away.”

  Lucian snatched up the pen, seconds before it was about to tumble to the floor, and tossed it into a pen holder. “I’m going to stay. Why don’t you chase your mouse?”

  “I’m too hungry to chase my mouse.”

  “Take a nap, then.”

  “I’m too hungry to—”

  Lucian shook his head. “You of all people should understand my duty to—”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  With an impatient sigh, Lucian focused again on the laptop. Galahad, thankfully, stopped gabbing and making mischief and lay down, his paws tucked under his chest.

  Lucian’s sense of disquiet deepened. He’d seen plenty of dark magic spikes through the years, but this one…. His gut-instincts warned him this was different.

  “You’re worried,” the squire said.

  “Of course I’m worried. We just detected very old dark magic.”

  “I mean, icy-chill-in-your-bones worried.”

  Lucian hesitated, because he hadn’t wanted to share his concern yet, but then nodded.

  Galahad did not say more, obviously waiting for Lucian to explain. “The magic tonight…. I don’t quite know how or why yet, but something about it is…wrong.”

  “It’s not what your grandfather told us to expect,” the squire agreed. “Do you think you should call in some help?”

  “No.” Not yet, anyway. Lucian would do his utmost to secure the dark magic himself; to make sure The Dealers never got to the magical item first and then twisted its powers to their own nefarious exploits. If Lucian excelled, he had a chance of regaining the respect of his superiors and salvaging his professional reputation. “It’s my duty to handle such situations. I don’t want to get The Experts involved unless I have no other choice.”

  “I get that your pride recently took a beating,” Galahad said. “But, if this magic has you, an experienced professional, worried, maybe it would be better to—”

  “—go check out the area where it appeared? Excellent idea.”

  Galahad grumbled. “That’s not what I was going to say.”

  With clicks of the mouse, Lucian closed files on the computer. “We should, though. We’ll go as soon as we can, since night will fall soon.”

  The feline visibly shuddered. “Do we have to?”

  “Are you scared of what we might find?”

  The cat scowled. “I’m no coward, as you well know. But, it means a trip in the car.”

  “Oh, come on. You love riding in the Mini Cooper.”

  “No, I hate it—and don’t you dare put me in the cat carrier. That’s like being in jail.”

  “Fine, no carrier, but you need to stay put in the passenger seat. If we get out of the vehicle to look around, you’re to stay by me at all times.” Lucian scowled. “No chasing after hot girl cats or starting fights with stray toms.”

  “I can’t have any fun, you mean,” the squire muttered.

  “I don’t like rules either, but you’ve caused mischief in the past—”

  “Hey!”

  “—and I’m responsible for your safety,” Lucian said firmly, as he shut down the laptop.

  Galahad snorted. “Maybe I should stay here. I’d for sure be safe.”

  A wry laugh broke from Lucian. “Nice try. You’re coming with me.”

  The feline rose to all four paws, determination in his golden eyes. “If I have to go—”

  “You do. A squire always accompanies his knight, remember?”

  “—then I get two cans of duck dinner in gravy when we get home.”

  Lucian’s brows rose. “Now who is setting rules?”

  “You owe me,” Galahad insisted, “after shutting me away this afternoon. And I saved your ass with Cora Johnson.”

  True. “All right. It’s a deal.”

  After taking off the necklace, Molly wrapped it in the linen again and put it back in its box. Thank goodness the cats had stopped crying outside the bathroom door. They’d fallen silent and had finally given up on trying to get in.

  Her fingers trailed over the box, the antique wood dark against the light-colored, modern countertop. Disappointment lingered, for she hadn’t wanted to take off the beautiful piece of jewelry, not when it looked so nice on her and made her feel good, too. But, it was too ornate for everyday wear. It was best kept for special occasions, like the annual gala at her favorite art gallery or a fancy Christmas party.

  Or a date with Lucian.

  A wicked little shiver trailed through her. Yes, she’d wear the necklace if she had a date with him. But, he hadn�
�t asked her out and probably wasn’t going to—and she’d sworn off relationships anyway, at least for the time being.

  Remembering the jobs she’d wanted to tackle that afternoon, Molly quickly tried on the costume jewelry and decided to part with all but two pieces. Then she picked up what she’d brought into the bathroom and opened the door. The four kitties were waiting outside.

  Her mother had told her about the felines being by her side all day, no matter what she was doing. With her mom gone, the cats had obviously decided they must stick by Molly.

  She dropped the baubles she planned to give away on the bed then headed to the guest bedroom she was using. The felines fell in behind her.

  She’d ask Lucian, when she found a good opportunity, if the cats’ behavior today had been normal: the meowing outside the bathroom door; the following her everywhere she went. She had a lot to learn about kitty behavior, if they were to all get along in Seattle.

  Upon reaching the guest room, she put the box and the jewelry she was keeping in the long inside pocket of the suitcase she’d brought to Cat’s Paw Cove. Pushing aside the cats trying to climb into the case, she zipped it shut before stowing it back in the closet and shutting the door.

  “You won’t be able to hide that special box now,” she told the felines then crouched to scratch each of them under the chin. She still couldn’t explain how the box had gotten underneath the dresser, but the cats had to be responsible…unless the house had a ghost.

  There were plenty of weird stories about Cat’s Paw Cove. Some folk claimed to have seen spirits; others said they’d experienced magic. But, Molly didn’t believe in such things. Her late mother, as far as Molly knew, hadn’t believed in them either.

  The kitties seemed much calmer now. They purred, and when she rose and went to the living room, only two of them followed.

  Hands on her hips, Molly studied the daunting piles of magazines and papers. “Where to start?” she murmured. Deciding she’d just have to choose a pile and get to work, she sat on the floor, pulled over a trash bag, and began sorting and tossing.

  Ugh. The dust was terrible.

  “Achoo!” Ignoring her watering eyes and scratchy throat, Molly pressed on.

  One stack dealt with at last, she started on another. It contained several years’ worth of National Geographic magazines as well as some letter-size files.

  She looked at the file tabs and recognized her mother’s neat handwriting. “The Cat’s Paw Cove Paranormal Society?” Had her mother been a member?

  After sneezing again, Molly opened the thick folder and began to read.

  Lucian steered the Mini to the curb in the modest but well-maintained subdivision. Trash bins and brimming boxes of items for recycling sat at the ends of driveways of some of the houses. Tomorrow must be pick-up day in the neighborhood.

  Lucian put the car in park. The engine purred, its low rumble underscoring the hiss of the air conditioning.

  According to the magic-detecting equipment on his dashboard, there was no significant trace of dark magic for miles around.

  Residual but inconsequential energy remained from earlier, as he’d expected. Lucian had also found faint traces of dark energy dating from different years through the centuries, right back to when the first humans had settled in the area. But, dark magic existed everywhere in the world, and finding a low level of it was normal.

  Galahad’s eyes gleamed in the car’s shadowed interior. “Are we done yet? We’ve been driving around for hours.”

  “Actually, thirty-eight minutes.” Lucian picked up his cell phone for a quick check of text messages and emails. Thankfully, nothing urgent.

  “I am not just hungry now, I’m starving,” the squire said.

  Lucian returned his phone to the console in the car. “All right. If there was something important to find, I think we’d have found it by now.”

  “Yesss.” Galahad grinned. Turning his head, he rose up on his back paws and peered out the passenger side window at the nearby houses along the street.

  Just as Lucian readied to drive away, his phone buzzed. Lucian picked it up and read the email he’d just received. His superior in The Experts had responded to the quick report Lucian had submitted before leaving the antiques store.

  Lucian’s brow knit with a frown.

  “Stephanie?” Galahad asked.

  “No. Julius.”

  “Uh-oh. What does the bastard want?”

  The squire shouldn’t call their superior a bastard. Except the guy was one of the most obnoxious people Lucian had ever dealt with. “Julius directed us to further investigate the dark magic we saw tonight,” Lucian said.

  “No kidding.” The feline growled. “Are you going to tell him we’re way ahead of him on that plan?”

  “No, I’m going to confirm I’ve done as he ordered. It’s what he’d expect from a team player.”

  Galahad snorted and returned his gaze to the street.

  Lucian sent a quick reply to Julius. When he looked up, Galahad was back up on his hind legs, staring intently at the sidewalk.

  “What?” Lucian’s hand moved to the driver’s side door. On occasion, the cat had sensed dark magic right before it had shown up on the devices.

  “Roll down my window,” the squire said.

  Urgency sharpened the cat’s tone, so Lucian immediately depressed the button to lower the window. Before he could ask again what had captivated the squire, a cat meowed outside.

  The tension that had gathered between Lucian’s shoulder blades eased a little. “You made a friend,” he said, just as the feline outside mewled again.

  “Shhh!” Hot, humid air wafted into the car’s interior as Galahad stretched his head out the window and meowed back at the other kitty.

  “Will you please tell me—?”

  “Quiet!” the squire said. “I’ll explain later.”

  Lucian waited, his hand resting on the cool door. A moment later, a gray kitty ran across the nearby lawn and disappeared under a white fence.

  Galahad dropped back down to the passenger seat. “Damnit! I need to go after her.”

  “Her?” Lucian shook his head. “Not tonight.”

  “I have to. She’s a Sherwood Cat.”

  “I get it. You liked her,” Lucian said, “but—”

  “I understood her.”

  Why did Galahad sound startled? As Lucian rolled the window up, he said, “You would understand her, right? You’re both cats.”

  “No,” Galahad said firmly. “She’s no ordinary kitty. I understood all that she said; the same way I understand every word you speak.”

  “That’s never happened before?”

  “Nope. Never.”

  A chill crawled across Lucian’s nape. The readings on the magic-detecting devices right now weren’t unusual. The cat wasn’t connected to the dark energy spike, and she didn’t, according to the special instruments, pose a threat to the local population or the town at large.

  But, what—or who—was she? Had she once been human but had been cursed and reincarnated as a feline, just like Galahad?

  While Lucian knew about the reincarnation curse upon his bloodline, he didn’t recall ever meeting other cats who had previously been people. That didn’t mean there weren’t any.

  The squire exhaled a heavy sigh. “Do you want me to get out of the car and try to find her?”

  Lucian heeded an inner cry for caution. “We’ll come back another night.” Since they had no idea what they were dealing with, they’d be wise to do a bit of research. Maybe there would be answers in past reports that Lucian’s grandfather had filed.

  As Galahad settled down on the passenger seat, Lucian glanced over his shoulder then pulled the Mini away from the curb. Regardless of what he and Galahad found, though, there could only be one explanation for the cat tonight: Magic.

  Chapter Five

  Standing behind the store counter, Lucian stifled a yawn with the back of his hand. He downed more of the coffee he’d bought a
t Devon Rex Desserts, a bakery a short distance down Whiskers Road, then continued reading. He’d transferred some of his grandfather’s files onto his laptop so he could access them whenever and wherever he liked, and had stayed up until the wee hours reading at the apartment’s kitchen table while Galahad had snoozed on the sofa nearby.

  Shortly after 2 A.M., however, Lucian had called it a night and had gone to bed, since he had to open the store by nine. But, he intended to get through all of the files by lunchtime.

  As he downed another mouthful of the flavorful, French-roast java, the doorbell chimed. It was too early for any package deliveries, so the person entering must be a customer.

  “Good morning,” he called, not looking up from the computer.

  “Good morning.”

  Molly. His whole body zinged alert.

  Last night, while trying to fall asleep, he’d thought of their meeting, how he hoped to see her again, and what he’d say if he did. His fingers tightened around the paper cup, and he carefully set it where he or Galahad, lying like a sphinx on the counter, wouldn’t accidentally knock it over.

  Across the store, Molly stood in profile, bracing a box on her left hip while she shut the door.

  His mouth went dry. He hadn’t thought she could look any more beautiful than the last time he’d seen her, but she’d put her hair up in a sleek ponytail that showed off her graceful neck. His gaze slid down to the fuchsia-colored top she’d paired with dark-wash skinny jeans and heels.

  Did she have any idea how long her legs looked in that outfit? He silently groaned in appreciation.

  “Mee-owww,” Galahad drawled.

  Anticipation hummed in Lucian’s blood as he closed his laptop and went to meet her. Galahad jumped to the floor and followed.

  Turning to face Lucian, Molly smiled. “Hi.”

  “Hi.” She wore shiny gloss that accented her full, pretty lips. Desire tingled in his veins; he tamped it down. “It’s nice to see you again.”

  “Yeah, it sure is,” the feline said.

  Laughing, she looked down at the cat. “Well, hello to you, too, Galahad.”