by E. Van Lowe
I walked into the house, sticky from the heat of the day and in need of a shower and a nap, after which I planned to call Maudrina and apologize for the crappy day. I hoped by then she’d be ready to share. Suze and Tony were in the living room watching TV.
“Hi there,” Suze called as I passed by. She tuned off the TV, a sign she wanted me to join them.
“Hey, Mom. Hey, Tony.” I wasn’t in a chatty mood, but I could tell there was something on my mother’s mind. Tony slid closer to her on the sofa—if that were possible. His eyes were puffy and red. Poor guy. The allergy meds still hadn’t kicked in.
“Where’s Amanda?” I asked.
“In your room. And I made sure the door latched this time, so no escapes.” Tony squirmed a little at the mention of Amanda.
“So what’s up?” I stepped into the room.
“Sit,” Suze said, gesturing me toward the arm chair across from them.
He’s asked her to marry him, I thought as I eased into the chair.
“Tony and I have been hanging out for a while now.”
So we’re calling it hanging out now, are we?
“Six months,” said Tony. He picked up her hand and smiled at me, his watery eyes crinkling at the corners.
“Okay…”
“And I want you to know we’re getting serious,” she said. She looked at me, her head cocked to one side as if she was waiting for a reaction.
“And?”
“ And that’s it.”
“We just want your blessing to take this to the next level,” said Tony. He squeezed her hand.
Next level? How many levels are there?
“Umm, sure. You guys make a great couple.”
“We’re thinking of taking a trip together,” Tony said.
“Just for a few days,” Suze added quickly.
They were being extremely cautious with me. “Great. Where’re you going? Paris? Rome?”
“Las Vegas,” replied my mother.
“That was my third choice for romantic city.”
“Stop being sarcastic.”
I chuckled. “I’m happy for you guys. Really. Enjoy yourselves.” I got up to leave.
“There’s one more thing. It’s your birthday weekend.” Her eyes hinted concern.
Every year for as far back as I could remember we’d spent my birthday together—just the two of us… and Matt. This news could have come as a blow a few weeks earlier, before Guy had returned, but now it was welcome. The idea of spending my birthday alone with Guy was extremely exciting. “Oh. Okay,” I said, not letting my true feelings show. “You’ll be gone for my birthday. No problem.”
“You sure?”
“You can come along if you want to,” Tony offered.
It was sweet of him, because I’m sure he didn’t want me along on their romantic weekend.
“We plan to attend the Antiques Roadshow at Caesar’s, and it happens to be that weekend,” explained Suze. “It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”
They both seemed fidgety. “I’m good, you two love birds. Relax. Have fun. Just don’t come home and tell me you got hitched.”
“Don’t worry, we won’t.”
“Well…” said Tony. She elbowed him in the side and he laughed. They really were a great couple. I wouldn’t mind having Tony as a step-father.
When I got upstairs, Amanda was seated at the top of the landing waiting for me. As soon as she saw me she mewed.
“Well, hello to you, too. So much for making sure the door latch caught.” She rubbed against my lower legs and I scooped her into my arms, rubbing my nose into her fur. “Okay, Houdini. Come hang with Mommy while she takes her shower, and I’ll tell you about my messed-up day.”
The shower freshened me and brightened my mood. With the memory of my nightmarish behavior at the bake-off nearly washed away, I decided to spend a few hours working on my abilities. The only way to stop the things that happened today from happening again was to get them under control.
I smiled at the thought of how pleased Guy would be when he saw I’d harnessed more of my power.
I pulled three number two pencils from my pencil case and placed them near the edge of my desk, side by side. The exercise I had in mind was to make them roll off the desk one at a time.
Amanda looked on as I cleared my thoughts. Allowing my mind to open, I reached for my power. I found it quickly this time and the first pencil rolled easily off the desk, then the second, and then the third. I was surprised at how easily I had been able to do the trick. Amanda moved in and sniffed the pencils curiously.
“Okay, this time, something harder.” I looked around for something larger to move. My bedroom door was closed. I stared at the closed door, again reaching for my ability. Nothing happened. Concentrate, I told myself. Dig deeper.
After several minutes of deep concentration, the door knob turned ever so slightly, but the door remained closed. And then something exploded in my belly. It was as if a geyser had erupted, dousing my insides with red hot rage. Open, you stupid door!
The door knob turned. The door flew open and slam-banged into the wall. Amanda screeched and arched her back. I turned to her, eyes glaring. I had the sudden urge to focus my power on Amanda and fling her across the room. Wouldn’t that be hysterical?
I looked at her with a deadly gaze. She stared back, not sure what I was doing. As my mind opened, she screeched again and raced from the room.
“What’s the matter, you little fuzz ball?” I called after her. “Scaredy cat!” Venomous laughter spewed from my lips.
Haha, haha, haa!
“You’re nothing but a scaredy cat.”
And just as quickly as the anger had appeared, it vanished, leaving me feeling empty and filled with remorse.
It was like coming down off a sugar rush. Wow. I almost hurt my baby, I thought. As I came to my senses, my eyes began filling with tears as the thought that I might have harmed my darling Amanda sank in. While it seemed I was getting my abilities under control, the same was not true of my rage.
With tears streaming down my cheeks, I went to find my kitten. I had to let her know how sorry I was.
Amanda was standing by the staircase pacing back and forth, not wanting to venture down.
I called to her sweetly. “I’m sorry I scared you.”
She stopped pacing and looked at me. There was a wariness about her.
“I wasn’t myself when I said those things back there.” I eased closer. She didn’t seem frightened. She seemed puzzled as if she, too, were trying to get a handle on what had happened to me.
I scooped her into my arms. “I’ll get it under control. Promise.” She licked my fingertips and began to purr, letting me know all was forgiven.
I stayed in my room the rest of the evening, playing with Amanda and trying to get a handle on my bizarro day.
*
I had the dream again that night, the one where I was at Erin’s birthday party. Everyone was as they were back in 2006, except for me Matt and Erin. Matt was again swiping M&Ms from the candy dish on the refreshment table with the Power Puff Girl’s table cloth. He smiled at me and pressed a shushing finger to his lips, just as he’d done in the earlier dream.
“Happy Birthday, Erin,” I said, stepping forward, holding out the brightly wrapped package. I still couldn’t remember what was in it. But I remembered it was something extra special—something she would love.
“What are you doing here?” she said in that nasty tone.
The rest of the dream played out exactly as it had the first time.
As the group closed in around me—Matt is in hell… Matt is in hell—I looked back over to the refreshment table. Matt was no longer there. This time, however, I noticed something on the table, something familiar that I knew didn’t belong there. As I tried to make out what it was, I woke up.
I lay in bed, eyes wide, the dream swirling in my head like flakes in a snow globe. As my rattling heart settled, I tried recalling the differences be
tween this dream and the first. But dreams are like mist, and the details faded as soon as my eyes were open.
I found it difficult getting back to sleep. The dream haunted me until morning light seeped between the blinds and onto my pillow, squinting my eyes. I decided to get up and do some reading before heading off to my first day at my new job.
I had tossed and turned so much during the night that Amanda had given up sleeping on my chest and had decided to finish the night in her basket.
Or maybe she no longer trusts me.
The basket was under my desk. She rarely spent time there anymore. When she first arrived, she retreated to the basket quite often, but now that she’d fully explored the house, she’d found other comfortable nooks and crannies to catch a nap.
I plucked her from the basket and gave her a hug. I was still feeling guilty about wanting to toss her across the room and was trying to make it up with an extra dose of affection. When I picked her up, I realized the blanket that lined the basket was now a mess of cat hair.
I’d never thought of cleaning it out before, but if Amanda were going to spend time in the basket, she should have a clean place to nap. I also realized that the less cat hair in the house, the quicker Tony might stop looking like a man on his last legs. Tony needed to be more comfortable in our home.
I set Amanda down and pulled out the vacuum cleaner. Then I removed the blanket from the basket and spread it on the floor so I could vacuum up the hair. I didn’t shake it out because I didn’t want cat hair flying everywhere, but when I spread it onto the floor, Amanda’s toy mouse fell out.
Amanda ignored the mouse. She walked onto the blanket and lay down.
“No, Amanda,” I said in a less-than-scolding tone. “I need to vacuum this.” She mewed softly and licked her paws. I picked her up and placed her on the bed, then went back to vacuum the blanket. As I was about to begin, something in the basket caught my eye—a slip of yellow paper trapped in a crevice at the bottom.
I plucked the paper from the basket. It was a torn-in-half sheet from a legal pad, folded neatly. Some kind of note. I unfolded it and saw it was a note from Harrison to me. I smiled, delighted that Harrison had written me before he left:
Dear Megan,
I didn’t feel comfortable leaving you alone, so I’m leaving someone here to watch over you. Her name is Amanda and she’s quite special indeed. Amanda is a unique breed of cat bred only by the Nephilim. She is what we call a hell cat. Hell cats are an excellent barometer for detecting the presence of demons. Demon slayers use the breed to help mortals detect when a threatening demon is nearby.
Hell cats can get pretty angry when their masters are being threatened by one of them nasties, and can do a demon terrible harm. So demons tend to keep their distance when one is in the vicinity. Take care of Amanda and she’ll take care of you, although I’m sure she won’t be needing to protect you from anything. Enjoy your summer. I’ll be back before ya know it.
Luv ya,
Harrison
By the time I finished reading, my hand was trembling. I looked over at Amanda standing on the bed. Her wide eyes were watching me.
Chapter Fourteen
I’ve got to get a grip. I have seriously got to get a grip!
I was staring at my cat, my emotions a swirl of contradiction.
Yes, I was happy to see the note from Harrison, happy to know that he remembered me. He had become like the best big brother and it brought a smile to my face knowing he’d been thinking of me. I was also relieved to know that he’d left something behind to protect me from demons.
And yet, I was afraid—very afraid… of… my… cat.
I was afraid there was a monster lurking inside her, an out-of-control monster, very much like the one lurking inside me.
The fear brought on a fresh emotion—shame. A mother shouldn’t be afraid of her own children.
Amanda mewed softly. She wanted me to come and get her off the bed. She was always nervous about climbing down on her own… or was that an act? She was usually gone in the morning when I woke up. Getting down off the bed, opening doors, going outside. Amanda was a regular Houdini. Was she playing me?
“I know all about you,” I said in response to her innocent meow. “I just read Harrison’s note. See?” I wagged the paper at her. “Seems you’ve been keeping a little secret from me.”
She meowed loudly this time, a demand for me not to leave her stranded on the bed.
I took a half step back. “I’m not afraid of you,” I called, wagging the note at her accusingly. But in saying it, I was admitting out loud that I was. Without warning, I started to cry. Fat tears flowed freely from my eyes, and when they did, Amanda climbed down from the bed, gripping the bedspread like a grappling line and lowering herself until she felt it was safe to drop to the floor.
She moved to me, weaving between my legs, and began to purr. I stiffened at the feel of her rubbing against me. A part of me wanted to push her away. Yet as I stood there, I realized she wasn’t a hell cat trying to play me; she was my little Amanda, trying to comfort me. She purred louder, and I found my heart melting along with a fresh rush of tears. I scooped her up into my arms.
“My love is stronger than my fear,” I said, brushing my tear-drenched face against her coat. “You really are here to watch over me, aren’t you?” I wondered if there truly was a monster lurking inside her. “We’re a perfect match,” I sighed, as she continued to purr.
*
The Insomniacs’ Café was an old fashioned coffee emporium with comfy high back chairs and overstuffed couches. It was a customer-friendly place that encouraged patrons to lounge as long as they liked while enjoying their espressos, green teas, and Café Lattes.
I was nearly late for my first day of work. I’d been so distressed over the news that Amanda was a hell cat, I’d spent a large chunk of the morning at my computer looking it up. Of course I couldn’t find anything on Google. No surprise there. The world of Nephilim isn’t exactly public knowledge.
As I sat at my computer, jumping from search engine to search engine, trying to uncover anything I could about hell cats, I kept a cautious eye on Amanda. I’m not a demon, so I knew I was safe from whatever she might do when she encountered one, and yet I got a creepy feeling every time I looked at her.
She was playing next to my bed, batting the shoelace on my tennis shoe. In the past, this would have been an innocent, almost comical activity, yet that morning I saw a hell cat practicing the take-down of a demon.
My morning internet activity proved to be futile. All it managed to do was get me to work and into my Insomniacs’ Café tee shirt and apron a mere five minutes before shift supervisor Carly Sanchez was supposed to give the summer hires our indoctrination speech.
The newbies were all lined up inside the store near the register when I joined the queue.
“Five minutes early is five minutes late,” said Carly to the group in a snide tone as I stepped up, tying my apron strings.
“I’m not sure what that means but… sorry.” I added an apologetic smile to let her know I meant it.
“It means,” she said, her voice turning more vinegary, “that Insomniacs must be ten minutes early to be considered on time. It’s the Insomniacs’ way.” She wore her jet black hair close, like a boy. Her angry lips were neatly painted with the dark maroon lipstick preferred by Goths.
“I didn’t know there was an Insomniac’s way,” I said in my own defense.
“That’s the purpose of this indoctrination that you’re late for.”
A few of the new hires snickered.
“See, but I’m not yet late because I haven’t yet been indoctrinated. So for the unindoctrinated, I’m actually on time.” I was trying for a save.
“Stop talking,” she said, brusquely brushing me aside.
She went through the entire indoctrination speech without once glancing in my direction. Her white supervisor’s tee appeared to be starched and pressed. She reminded me of a drill sergea
nt who enjoyed beating up on her young platoon.
When she finished explaining the Insomniacs’ way, which took an entire fifteen minutes, she began handing out assignments to the new hires. She told Julie, the girl standing next to me, to observe the cashier. The hires dispersed to their stations, and then Carly started away, still without so much as a peek in my direction.
“Umm, excuse me. You didn’t give me an assignment.”
She wheeled on me, a bully ready to pounce, with a cruel smile curling the corners of her lips. “You wanna know why I don’t have an assignment for you?” she asked in a loud sing-song that everyone could hear.
The anger slammed into me like a freight train. Not her anger—mine. It came so quickly and hit so hard, I took two steps back. I squeezed my hands into fists, my knuckles turning white, nails digging into my palms, hoping to get a handle on the rage that was suddenly spiraling inside me. But it was coursing uncontrollably.
“Yes. I do want to know why I don’t have an assignment,” I said in a low, seething tone. “But if I were you, I’d think long and hard before answering that question.” The words came out of my mouth without thought. The dark thing inside had seized control.
Carly’s eyes began to narrow, and I could tell she was about to give me a piece of her mind… until she saw my face. I don’t know what she saw, but I knew the rage burning inside was splayed across my face. Something about my look told her this girl is not to be messed with.
Her eyes grew wide with surprise as she suddenly realized I was no longer her prey. I had become her tormentor.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she barked. She was trying to stand up to me because by now every one of her coworkers had stopped what they were doing and were watching. There was an edge to her voice, but it was all fake, and everyone knew it.
It was my turn to smile. Mine was the deadly smile of a gunslinger. “It means, I want you to be sure you give me the assignment I deserve,” I said slowly as if talking to an idiot, my eyebrows arching slyly. “You weren’t planning on sending me home, or something degrading like that, were you?” There was a clear threat buried beneath all the sweetness on top.