“Yes! That’s the one!”
I slam my hands on the table. “I bloody knew it!”
“You know her?”
“She’s already tried to take me out. Made it look like an accident, too. She’s Saffy’s half-sister.”
Steve gasps dramatically. “Shut. Up! This is so much better than my storylines on TV! So your service is at the theater? That’s so brave. No monster has ever made it out alive.”
Oh, wait. Oh, mother-trucking sweet fires of hell. Jax is trapped in the theater. With a chaser!
“Do chasers have any weaknesses?”
“They’re human, so yeah, tons. Skilled, but mortal. Fast, but mortal. They need to eat, drink, and sleep. If anyone can take them down, it’s you, Colt Harper!”
I scoff. Colt Harper could take down a human, sure. But Colt Harper with a human form attacking him from the inside and making him weak? Probably not so much.
Before I bolt out of the restaurant to heroically save a werewolf I just met, I have to consider the repercussions. Rule 1 of being a monster: Don’t kill humans. But chasers are humans. So… where does that leave me?
“What’s the laws on killing a chaser if it’s self-defense?”
“Haven’t looked into it.” Steve checks his watch. “You’d better ask St. Damian. He’ll know how to handle a chaser.” He sniffs and gags, like he’s coughing up a hairball. “This stupid form has the worst sinusitis! Anyway, I better reset time. Was excellent catching up. Hope to see you at the end of your community service stint, eh! I’ll get that fish pie for you.”
Before I have a chance to respond, the restaurant ripples with loud chatter and clanging cutlery.
“Sorry, sir, I confused you with someone else I know.” Steve scribbles on his notepad. “We have a special today, freshly baked fish pie and fries on the side.”
“That’d be great.” I hand him the menu. “Thanks for your help.”
“Enjoy your evening.” He flashes me a wink and leaves.
I lean forward, lost in Saffy’s eyes. Strangely, this place doesn’t seem so repugnant when she beams. I honestly forget about Jax in an instant. So what if he gets killed? It’s not like he means anything to me. He’s a big boy, perfectly capable of taking care of himself. Besides, I’m starving.
“Tell me about yourself, Colt. You claim you’re an actor, yet you’re too stubborn… or perhaps scared to act outside of your comfort zone. I haven’t worked out what it is yet.”
I can’t help but be a little conscious of the alleged monsters surrounding us. I hate not knowing what I’m up against. Monsters are like human criminals—we try to get along, and most of the time we do, but there’s no way in the world we’d trust one another. In all honesty, I’m a little suspicious of what Steve is putting in my pie.
“I’m not really an actor,” I blurt. “This whole thing is punishment.”
“Punishment?”
“Yeah. It’s hard to explain. St. Damian set me up and…” I trail off. What am I going to tell her? “Ah… I’m really more of a director. He said I’d never make it unless I tried acting first, so he forced me into this. I view it as a sort of punishment.”
I glance down at my lap, unaccustomed to the guilt that bubbles inside from lying. Usually I lie just to mess with people. I stare them dead in the eye just for the hell of it, smiling when they fall hook, line and sinker.
“It’s silly, I know.” I shrug. “Hey, Saffy. Question. Is it racist to call someone Japanese if they’re from Japan?”
Saffy’s cheeks brighten and her eyes squint when she laughs that breathy laugh. “That’s stupid! Is it racist to call an Australian, Australian? Of course not!”
I raise my glass and tink it with hers. Turns out not all humans are stupid.
The fish pie isn’t sitting right. I’m not sure if it’s given me stomach cramps, or it’s just a side effect of hanging around a Time Snatcher.
Saffy rests her hands on her protruding stomach, looking newly pregnant, even though she barely touched her schnitzel. I can’t even bring myself to taste it; I’ve never felt this sick in my life.
I can sense the other monsters watching me, judging me… what kind of pathetic monster gets sick eating bland human food?
“Part of me feels guilty for not finishing my meal.” Saffy breathes heavily. “But at least the cats will eat it.”
It’s a nice sentiment, but Saffy should know better than to give cats her scrappy seconds. That’s just ignorant.
“So you’re done, then?”
“Yeah, I feel sick.” Saffy sits upright, motioning to Steve for the bill. “Colt, would you mind walking me home? I have something I want to show you.”
“Your cats?” I say eagerly. “Because I’d love to meet them!” It’s important to make sure they’re treated right. “They all have their own unique name, yes?”
“Ah, I’ve seen the musical, Cats. Of course they all have their own individual names.”
“Good.”
Steve approaches, flashing his inhumanly straight teeth. “Saffy, you want me to just add this to your tab and bill you at the end of the month?”
“That’d be perfect. Thanks for everything tonight, Steve.”
Our chairs scrape against the floor, and Saffy links her arm through mine, which is something I’m a little wary about. Humans don’t usually invade my personal space like this. We stop beneath the awning, gasping at the rain.
“Oh no!” Saffy gulps. “I hate rain.”
“Me too.” I grind my teeth. “But we’ll just have to brave it.”
Awkwardly, Saffy takes a step, squealing when her open-toe shoes make contact with the rain. “I hate it, I hate it, I hate it!”
“Me too.” I pat her arm. Dealing with someone else’s disgust distracts me from my own. “On the count of three, we’re going to make a run for it. One. Two. Three!”
Screaming—with equal horror and delight—Saffy springs forward, holding onto my arm for dear life. We race down the street, taking cover under another awning, in front of a closed jewelry shop.
“How far away is your house?”
“It’s an apartment. And it’s a block away. 19 Hornet Road.” Droplets of rain travel down her temples and nestle in her eyebrows. She’s hypnotizing. Her perpetually upturned lips, those bright eyes shining in this dim, colorless town. She truly is a majestic form.
I take her by the hand, cringing at the wetness, and squeeze it. “Ready to run again?”
She giggles nervously. “Ready when you are!”
“Hold up!” Steve’s voice is lower than it was in the restaurant. He sounded boyish before, but now he’s channeling a serial-killer tone. Untouched by the rain, he hands Saffy her purse. “You forgot something.”
“Oh, I’m such an idiot!” She shakes her head. “Thank you so much! You could’ve kept it, and I wouldn’t have noticed.”
“No. You probably wouldn’t have.” Steve doesn’t bother making eye contact. It’s like he’s a whole new person. “Saffy, being with Colt tonight reminded me how good it is to be bad. I haven’t manipulated time in a while. Sent a rush through my form’s blood, a sentiment Colt will no doubt understand. The only way my kind survive is by stealing time from young humans.”
“Steve—” Saffy laughs, but her face is twisted. “Is this a new concept? It’s certainly inventive!”
“You know what I am.” He backs us against the store window. Saffy scrambles for my arm and burrows into my shoulder. Steve throws his head back and sighs. “So is he. Saffy, he’s a monster. He’ll probably bleed you dry the second I age you. He’s the worst of us. Don’t cuddle into him for protection! I won’t kill you, all right? I’ll just take away your good years.”
“Ease up, Steve!” My claws sneak through my fingertips. “You’re not hurting this one.”
“What? Don’t tell me the great Colt Harper has gone soft for a human!”
“She fosters cats, bud,” I reason. “I’ve no excuse to harm her.”
&nb
sp; “Colt?” Saffy whispers. “What’s going on?”
“Step back and turn away, Saffy,” I say softly. “This won’t be pretty.”
“What won’t be pretty?” she asks, her voice high. “Colt? Steve? What’s happening?”
I let my talons slip and my fangs drop. Saffy gasps, and Steve chuckles.
“I can control time!” Steve flicks his wrist and the rainfall speeds up, each drop the force of a bullet. “By the time you have a chance to even lunge at me, you’ll be thrown back to the Stone Age.”
I wince with each speeding raindrop, checking to ensure Saffy is safely undercover. The rain hurts like hell, small welts and bruises already showing on my form’s skin. “Is stealing Saffy’s youth really worth an eternity in the valley?”
“Duh. You know why? They’ll never catch me.” Steve is surprisingly confident with that statement. I blink, and in that time, he’s behind me, his hand on my back, sucking out my form’s youth. I grunt and flip backward, swiping at his stomach. My claw nicks his shirt, but I miss his skin. Dammit.
“What’s happening?” Saffy shrieks, tugging at her hair. “Stop!”
I leap up, thirsty for blood. Steve never killed a cat, but he did hang a duck upside down for three minutes. Close enough.
I spring toward Steve, but time has slowed down. Within an instant, I’m flat on my back, and Steve is on top, with his hand on my chest. “You can’t beat time,” he snarls. “Your form has a lot of years left. Don’t mind if I do.”
His energy punches through my chest, the pain excruciating. Just when I make the decision to leave my form to age miserably, Steve is thrown off, landing headfirst in the gutter, his head hitting the concrete with a crack.
I sit up and gape at Saffy, who’s… straddling Steve and gnawing into his neck. As he stares vacantly at the night sky, what’s left of him motionless, Saffy stands and wipes the blood from her chin.
“Saffy?” I say uncertainly. She took down a Time Snatcher. It’s nearly impossible to catch them off guard.
“Help me…” Pale, she falls into my arms, vomiting all over my shirt, which only blends in with the color.
“Saffy? What’s with the vomit? You’re… wow, I guess I was right again. I thought you were too beautiful to be a pathetic human. It was the eyes that gave it away. So… are… does this mean you’re a vampire cat? I’m not alone? Does this mean there’s more of us? I didn’t think that was possible. None of us sensed you! Why couldn’t we sense you? We really should hide you, we don’t want the council giving you community service, or worse. You won’t get in trouble for killing a Time Snatcher, but doing it in a public place has consequences. We should leave, actually. Wow. You’re just so damn beautiful, you know? If you were just a little cleaner, you’d be perfect. Those fangs and claws are so sharp! They look as good as new!” Great. I sound like the damn Leshi or werewolf talking.
Saffy’s jewel-like eyes are wide with fear. Teeth chattering, she grips onto me when her legs give out. “What AM I?!”
She passes out in my arms, so I drag her into the shadows and lay her down out of the rain that has returned to normal speed.
Her words and reaction confuse me. How can she not know who she is? Isn’t that a given?
I never thought I’d have a human slung over my shoulder like this. You know, alive. The last human slung over my shoulder was a police officer I killed for stroking a cat’s fur the wrong way. You just don’t do that.
Getting Saffy home safely is the only thing I let myself worry about. I consider taking her back to the theater, but Lexi will only bother her with questions. There’s also the whole Jax-stuck-with-a-chaser-in-the-basement thing, and I can only deal with one problem at a time, especially considering I’m not supposed to care about other monsters.
Sure, I kind of like Jax… but I can’t admit that to myself. How could an esteemed vampire cat like a smelly, benevolent, twitchy werewolf? It’s unheard of.
Saffy’s flat is underwhelming, much like the theater. A lifeless garden hunkers down out front, and the bricks are painted white. The front door is gray, with no porch or awning.
I’m sick of the rain. Especially when I’m locked out. I smile fondly at a black cat staring at me through the window.
“Miago? Open the door for me?”
Miago blinks slowly in acknowledgement and jumps off the windowsill, disappearing for a moment. Beyond sensing any cat’s name, I can allow them to understand the human mind. Miago will temporarily have the skills and capacity to unlock the door.
Within seconds, come a click and a scrape, of what I can only assume is Miago leaping up to the doorknob, cupping it between his paws and twisting it. The door unlatches, and I’m greeted by dozens of cats. Fluffy, ginger, tabby, Siamese… you name it, Saffy’s got it. I think I’m in heaven.
“Hey cuties,” I coo, flinging Saffy onto the sofa. She doesn’t flinch and I have no idea how long humans faint for. I quickly check for a pulse just to make sure.
The apartment is… nice. Pleasant, even. Small, but well-preserved. The furniture looks like it was bought in a set; all white, and similar in design. The floorboards are pretty dated though, and various artworks stand out against the apricot walls. I get the feeling Saffy painted them because they’re all portraits of her riding large felines through remote parts of the world.
I feel strangely comfortable here. At home. I’ve never really felt at home anywhere, except for the hippie cult I bunked with for a while (but that’s a story for another time). A vanilla-scented candle burns on the kitchenette counter, and I have the strong desire to scratch the furniture and lay on the coffee table. Saffy’s TV is outdated—I mean, it’s not even a flat screen and I can’t see anything Apple related. I thought humans were obsessed with anything that has the letter “I” in it.
The cats take turns to bump their heads against my leg, several bringing me gifts, like catnip, mice and… Saffy’s underpants.
“Thanks, guys.” I motion at my insensate hostess with my thumb and lean against the back of the sofa. “Did you know she was a vampire cat?”
“Meow!”
“Naooow!”
“Trrrrhoo!”
“Eeeeeeeaaaaat!”
“Chigga brow!”
See, cats don’t just meow. If you listen closely enough, it’s easy to hear a different dialect. If I listen especially close, it’s almost like they’re speaking Human.
“Whoa, whoa! One at a time!”
“If I may?” A fluffy gray pads forward, his voice velveteen, the name Gribs flashing in my mind. “Lovely to meet you, Sir Colt. Our thanks for your deeds. The cat community looks up to you.”
“Right back at you, Gribs. So what’s the go with Saffy?”
“We had our suspicions, but we can’t sense the vampire cat in her.” Gribs jumps on the sofa head and scratches at the fabric. “She… she smells human… but her kindness toward us insinuates a greater heart. A greater heart that simply does not belong to a vampire cat.”
“Could it be you’re not used to sensing vampire cats? Besides me, we’ve been extinct for at least a century.”
“No, Sir Colt. We could sense you a mile away. We wouldn’t mistake it. The fact of the matter is, Saffy is not a vampire cat.”
“But her eyes! And you should’ve seen her rip apart a Time Snatcher!”
Gribs licks his paw. “Her scent says otherwise.”
I pull out my phone and dial. It rings, taking its sweet time to get answered. “Hey, could you get me a towel? I’m freezing.”
“We could lick you dry?”
“A towel will suffice, thanks, Gribs.” Several cats trot through the kitchen and into another room, their tails high over their heads. They quickly return with folded towels rested on their backs. One-handed, I ruffle my hair dry, relieved when St. Damian picks up.
“Ah! You’re there!”
“What’ve you done wrong?” St. Damian sighs. I can hear him anxiously tapping a pencil on his desk.
“Nothing. Well, yeah, actually, I’ve been well-behaved. But the girl we’re doing the community service with is a vampire cat! But she doesn’t know it! She just killed a Time Snatcher in the street. I don’t think anyone saw, but we’ll need a clean-up, stat. Oh, and there’s a chaser in the theater. Pretty sure she’s terrorizing Jax as we speak, so I’ll head over shortly and check the damage. We might need more cleaners.”
St. Damian groans and hangs up without saying goodbye. That usually means he’ll help, but begrudgingly, considering how much he despises clean-ups. It’s not an easy job at his age.
“She’s not a vampire cat,” Gribs reiterates when I’ve put my phone away. He kneads into the spare towel that’s not wrapped around my shoulders. “Sorry to disappoint.”
“You’re wrong, Gribs.” I smile at her angelic face. “Just wait for her to wake up. You’ll see.”
“Ah, you’re staying for a while, then? Could we interest you in tuna? Milk? Fish?”
“I couldn’t.” I pat my stomach. “I’m full, but the offer was very thoughtful.”
“COLT!” Some cats scatter underneath the table chairs, others spring three feet in the air and a select few hiss at Lexi who stands drenched in the doorway, gripping onto the doorknob as if it was the only thing saving her. “Colt! You need to get to the theater!”
“How did you find me?”
“I tracked you. Jax is right. Even with those candles in your pockets, you smell pretty bad. Oh! Kittens. Hello, cuties. You little furballs don’t smell bad!” She picks Tyranna up, a ginger kitten, and cuddles her. “You are so cute! Yes you are! Yes you are!”
“Hey! Don’t even think about tickling her!”
“I wasn’t gonna… much…” Lexi lowers Tyranna, gooeyness practically dripping off her face.
“Lexi, focus. What’s happening at the theater? Is it Brynn?”
“Oh… oh! Yes! I found her in the kitchen, sharpening all these weapons, humming ominously! Then, then, she’s like, you’re next, Leshi, and I was all, what the actual eff, so she glides down those stairs all majestically so I ran here, but that was about seven minutes and thirty-seven seconds ago, so we need to get back to Jax! Colt, I… I think she’s…”
Colt Harper: Esteemed Vampire Cat Page 7