Chapter 3
~~~Dimitri~~~
“He’s beautiful,” the woman not dressed like a nurse says, as the one in scrubs opens the cage door wider and motions for her to pick me up.
Beautiful, yeah right. “Mave,” I yell again as the woman who I’m sure isn’t an employee of the shelter reaches for me.
I hiss at her when she sticks her hand into my cage. Surprisingly, that doesn’t offend her, though she does withdrawal slightly. When she reaches for me again, I let her pick me up. I actually enjoy it when she curls me against her chest and pets me. For a fleeting moment, I think about how soft and full her breasts are before I remember what I am and begin to curse Mave again, forgetting all about the two women talking over me.
“Did we find something we like?” another female voice asks from behind us, interrupting my mental rant. When the woman holding me turns, the doctor who is a little too familiar with my cat form says, “Hi, I’m Doctor Smith.”
“I know. I’m Abby. My cat, Sebastian, comes here,” she returns, shaking the doctor’s hand, not at all offended that, apparently, she knows the doctor, but the doctor doesn’t know her.
At the doctor’s questioning look, Abby says, “Sebastian is never sick, so I only bring him in when he needs his shots. We aren’t here enough for you to remember me, but when we come, you are the doctor that takes care of him. He is beautiful and calm to be so young.” She holds up me slightly, indicating to the doctor that she is talking about me now and not her own cat.
“He is. I can take it from here, Jody. Thank you,” Dr. Smith says to the woman who escorted the large-breasted lady to my cell.
“Okay. I’ll see you when you get ready to leave,” Jody says to Abby before going back to her desk.
“Do you know anything about him?” Abby asks, jostling me slightly.
“He is very healthy,” the doctor says, petting my head. “I’m assuming he had an owner and is not a stray, judging by the condition we found him, and by the fact that he’s a Maine Coon. A purebred Maine Coon from the looks of him. I’ve had Jody calling around to all the breeders and owners we have on file to see if someone is missing an animal. Why someone would steal him, then drop him off here, I don’t know. Considering he was in a carrier, I doubt he wondered away on his own. So far nothing has come up.”
“Does that mean he isn’t up for adoption?” There was actually a hint of disappointment in her tone. The woman has held me for all of a minute and already she’s ready to take me home. I must be pulling the cute, cuddly cat act off pretty well. I’d be proud of myself if I was able to change out of this cute, cuddly cat form.
When the doctor hesitates, I get worried. Damn it. Please don’t tell me they are going to keep me here. There is no way I can escape my situation as long as I’m in this cage. I eye the doctor hard as she reaches down to stroke my head again. Mentally I try to compel her to let me go home with the woman holding me. I feel my thoughts leave my body, but not touch the woman even with her hands on me. Damn it to hell.
“Yes and no,” Dr. Smith says, looking intently at the woman. “This is a little unorthodox, and not at all part of our normal procedure, so I’d appreciate it if you not tell anyone what I’m about to do.”
“Um…okay,” Abby says, shifts me in her arms, and begins to scratch me under my chin. Something the cat part of me really loves, and I almost catch myself wanting to purr.
“Our research has brought up nothing,” the doctor continues, smiling at the woman’s reluctant tone. “None of our known breeders have any missing animals or have sold any that look like him in the last few months. So, I’m willing to work out something if you really want him.”
“Oh, I really do,” Abby says with a bit too much excitement in her voice, something she notices quickly and tries to cover up.
“Good. Understand, I don’t feel comfortable letting him officially go this soon in case his owners do show up, but I’ll tell you what I’ll do. We’ll set up a foster situation with an option for adoption if no one steps forward. We don’t normally do it, as I said, but just this once, I think I’ll make an exception. You can take him for now. We’ll do a half payment on the adoption fee, along with our normal discount on shots, vaccinations, flea treatment, and after six months, if no one claims him, we will do the official adoption paperwork. Until then, we can’t neuter him. Because of his breed, we don’t want to do anything too permanent until the six months are up.”
What? Excuse me. Rewind. That was my hopeful ear.
“Thank you so much. However, I don’t intend to get him fixed. He is too pretty. I would most definitely want to breed him,” Abby says, stroking my fur.
Oh, thank God. I really didn’t want to have to claw this woman’s eyes out for simply considering doing such a thing to me. I know my penis has gotten me into a lot of trouble as of late, but no man deserves such cruelty, then my excitement dies when I register the word “breed.” There is no way I’m going to mount a cat. That is too creepy to think about, and I’m positive my penis wouldn’t respond anyway. Never mind any of that, I’ll be long gone before that situation comes up.
“Okay. If you are willing to work with the arrangement and give him up the moment someone comes forward with real proof that he is theirs, we’ll sign some paperwork and let you go home with him. What do you think about that, little guy?” the doctor asks me, and as I look up at her, I see something in her eyes that tells me something isn’t quite human about the woman. I can’t put my finger on what she is. She isn’t a were or shifter or vampire or any other supernatural being my senses can recall, but she is a supernatural, of that I am certain. A part of me thinks that for just a second she knows who and what I am, but when she says nothing to confirm this, I pretend it was my imagination.
“So, you aren’t going to hand him over to just anyone who comes in claiming he is theirs?” Abby asks, her brows scrunch lightly as she thinks over the situation. “I really don’t want to get attached to an animal that I’m going to have to give up, but he is simply too cute not to take home.”
“No, we aren’t going to hand him over to the first person who comes through the door claiming he is theirs. We have pictures of him and a list of everything that was with him when we found him, which isn’t much. Someone will have to come in with all of those details, and then some, to claim him.”
“I really hope to keep him, but I trust you. If someone comes in claiming him, and they are his real owners, I will turn him over.” The doctor frowns slightly, worried that Abby will do no such thing. Abby smiles back in a way that reassures the doctor that she will do as the doctor says.
“Good. I’ll take him, put him in the carrier he was left in, and meet you at Jody’s desk in a few minutes,” Dr. Smith says and reaches out for me. Abby reluctantly lets me go with the doctor.
There is nothing more I can do about my situation until I get out of here, but even then, I’m not sure what I am going to do once I’m free. After a few moments’ contemplation, I began trying to summon one of my brothers or pack mates. Chances are that if Mave can’t hear me, and isn’t just ignoring me, my brothers can’t hear me either. Yeah, I know, I should have tried harder to reach them earlier, but I wanted to find a way out of this on my own. I’d have to kill them all the first time some smart-ass comment about my situation and current form escaped their lips.
Abby takes nearly a half an hour to sign everything and set up all of my appointments. The entire time she is signing forms and checking her schedule for convenient days to bring me in for my shots and vaccinations, I do nothing but lay in the bottom of my carrier ignoring them.
“Since I have Sebastian at home, I don’t have to stop anywhere,” she says to me as she puts my carrier in the front seat of her car a few minutes later.
Okay, I think sarcastically, giving her my best annoyed look, which I’m sure does not translate easily.
“This is good, because it is too warm outside to leave you in the car,” she continues.
“Sebastian,” she calls out as she carries me through her front door when we get to her house. I turn toward the back of the carrier, trying to see the outside world. Stuck in the carrier for the entire drive to her house, I was unable to make note of any landmarks to give me a clue as to where I am. Having a point of reference will be nice for when I find a way outside of my weak telepathic abilities to contact my family. Once out of the car, all I saw was the red brick of her house. No street names. No street numbers.
After a second or two without a response, she calls for him again. The indifferent cat doesn’t jump up and come running when he hears his name like a dog would, but he does pop his head lazily up out of the armchair he is sleeping in and looks at us. “I brought you a new playmate.” Abby lifts her arm slightly to show him the carrier.
Playmate my ass.
Sebastian yawns, tucks his head back under his arm, and goes instantly to sleep. Good.
“He’s excited. I promise. He’s just ashamed to show his feelings,” she says to me as she pulls me from the carrier and back into her arms—right back into the softness of her breasts. God help me, but for a second I forget to pay attention to my surroundings. I’m pathetic.
Storing the carrier in a utility closet, she shifts me in her arms, giving me a view of everything around me. “This is my home,” she says, carrying me throughout the house. I make a note of every door and window. One of them will be my way out. “You have free reign of everything except the kitchen. Stay off the counters and table in there. You can sleep in the chairs, but that’s all.”
Oh, good God, woman. Enough. You’re insane, you know that, right?
I am going to have to get out of here soon before this woman dresses me in cat clothes, paints my nails, and put little bows in my hair. She might be pretty, but not nearly pretty enough to play dress up with me. I squirm in her arms in a gesture that screams ‘put me down,’ but she ignores me. She continues her tour of the house, showing me where the food and water bowls are, where the litter box is, ending in her bedroom where she tells me that I can sleep in the bed with her if I can fight Sebastian for room.
That sounds like loads of fun.
I meant that to be sarcastic, but if I were human, I might take her up on that offer. Thinking about her offer makes me wonder if she is one of those creepy people who loves her animals a little too much and… I stop myself before that train even leaves the station. If she is that disgusting, it doesn’t matter because at the first sign of such behavior, I’ll scratch the nearest body part I can, then run and hide. Yep, I’m man enough to admit that.
Sebastian is still sleeping in the armchair when we return to the living room. She has been holding me through the entire tour, but here she finally puts me down right in the middle of her living room floor. Taking a seat at her desk, she flips on the television and hits the power button on her computer.
“We’ve got to get you a name,” she says to me once her computer is on and she has gone through a number of password windows.
Wondering what she could possibly do for a living that would warrant having to enter in so many passwords, I lie down in the exact spot she put me in, don’t move for a long time, and watch her. I want to explore the house, but I’ll wait until she is gone or asleep. If she catches me trying to open windows or doors, things will get awkward. Not only that but if she figures out what I am, there will be hell to pay. The supernatural world has a strict ‘don’t tell the humans’ rule. We can tell humans when it is necessary, and some would say this is a necessary situation, but I want that to be my last resort.
She bends over to rub my head, giving me an intimate view down the front of her shirt and bra. I shift my eyes slightly and see a shadow of a nipple. Remembering I’m a cat, I close my eyes to keep from moving closer to her and shoving my head between them.
She strokes my back a few times, then leans up and launches Internet Explorer, which opens to a Google home page. She stares at the screen for a long time, then says, “I really don’t have a clue what to name you.”
As long as the name isn’t something lame like Fluffy or Whiskers, I could give a shit what she calls me. A part of me wishes she could hear me and would leave me alone. I just want to lay here and figure out my next move. No one is answering me. No one can hear me. This entire situation is getting out of hand, and I don’t even know where the fuck I am.
“It’s too bad you didn’t run off or get catnapped wearing your collar, not that you are actually old enough to realize what your name is, but it would make things easier for me if you already had a name. I hate picking out names.”
I watch as she types “baby boy names” into the Google search bar, then clicks on the first link to appear below the sponsored links.
As she searches for names on the Internet, I try to think. My powers are limited. My pack is unreachable to me in this form. At the very least, I should be able to hear them. They should be able to feel me and come to me. I wonder if it is my size or my form that keeps my powers down or if this is something the witch did to me. I guess it’s a good thing that I was able to change into this form. Maine Coons can grow to be very large. I hope that my powers will grow with my size. If the windows aren’t unlocked or I’m not strong enough to open them, I’m going to need my powers to open them for me. I wish I knew how long it took such animals to grow to full height. If I have to put up with this crazy woman for too much longer, I might have to commit cat-icide.
“Okay, I don’t know what to call you. None of these names fit. We’ll give it a few days to see if you reveal your name. Now, I should get some work done before my boss starts blowing up my phone wanting to know where the day’s edits are.” With that, Sebastian bounds across the sofa and jumps onto the computer desk where she is sitting. He walks over to her, licks her chin and cheek a few times, then lies down behind the monitor.
Two hours later, her sister calls. She has told the kids that Abby got a new cat, and they want to come over to see him. “You know my house is always open to the kids. You want me to order pizza for them?”
“Would you please?” I hear her sister say. “They have Scout meetings tonight. I had planned on going for happy meals when we left your house, but pizza would be much easier.”
“I’m on the pizza place’s website now placing the order. I’ll see you when you get here.”
“You’re going to have guests,” she says, picking me up from my place in the floor once she placed the order. “I hope you don’t pee on anyone or anything. You haven’t moved since we got home. I’m sure you’re about to bust.” She curls me in her arms and begins to pet my stomach. Damn it, that feels nice. I can’t help it; I close my eyes and let her pet me. If I’m going to be stuck in this form, I might as well enjoy some of its perks. After she realizes that I’m not going to attack her after the first few strokes the way most cats would have, she continues for a few more seconds then takes me back to where the litter box is and sets me inside the box.
“I’ll piss when I want to piss,” I hiss. “And that will not include when you are watching. Man, you are insufferable.” When she continues to look at me, waiting for me to do something, I wander around the smelly box, step out, shake the nasty smelly litter off my feet,—“Clean that up,”—and go to the water bowl to take a drink. I don’t really have to piss, and I know she will not let it go until I do something, so I drink some water then walk back to the living room. “This company of yours had better not pull my tail,” I hiss again as I pass her by.
“Do you really hate being here that much?” she asks sadly.
I freeze for half a step, thinking she is actually speaking to me, the person me, then force myself to keep moving another step or two. I can feel her w
atching me curiously for a second. “I am sorry you do. I will pray that the shelter finds your family soon,” she continues with a tone of voice that suggests that my current behavior is odd and not at all cat-like. Her tone is also sad. I wonder if this is because despite my behavior, she actually wants to keep me.
I instantly feel bad for upsetting her. How can she know who and what I am or what has happened to me? She has only been kind enough to take me from that place. I seem to have gotten lucky with her. Her home is quiet and inviting. There are worse places I could be and worse people who could have adopted me. Mave sent me to that shelter thinking they would put me to sleep. Instead, this nice woman has adopted me. I should be more grateful toward her, but I am having a hard time being civilized under my current condition.
Without looking back at her, I go back into the living room, jump up on the sofa, and pretend to sleep.
“I’m not second-guessing bringing home the new cat, but there is something about him that is breaking my heart,” I hear her say to someone one the phone a few seconds later. “He seems exceptionally depressed and resigned. I didn’t know cats could look that way, yet he is pulling it off well. Maybe he is feeling abandoned. Maybe his owners had dropped him at the shelter door.
“Listen at me. He’s a cat. I love my cats but to contemplate this hard on a cat’s emotions proves how out of touch with reality I am. Carrie is right; I have to get a life. I’ve got to do something with myself.”
The conversation goes on, but I ignore it, dreading the arrival of children who are probably too young to know how to handle animals properly.
Chapter 4
~~~Dimitri~~~
How is it that I have been in this place for a month now with no sign of my family or pack? I’ve asked myself this question every morning since I got here. You would think that by now someone in my pack would have figured out where I am. Hell, even Mave hasn’t bothered to show up looking for me. I thought for sure that she would be the one person to come to see if the vet had killed or neutered me, but I haven’t heard a word out of her. At every opportunity, I’ve called out to her. Tried the few summoning spells I know. Either she can’t hear me, or she is ignoring me. My money is on the former. I’m sure that if she knew I was still alive, she’d have come to finish me.
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