“Who did this?” I ask, trying to keep my anger under control.
“I don’t know…” Dean says, trailing off with a frown. “It could be random.”
“You think someone randomly broke into our nightclub and murdered our motherfucking cat? Without alerting any of the security?” Finn asks skeptically.
“The cameras, did we get anything on camera?” I question, hoping that I can move on from mourning straight into feral. I will rip apart the person who dared fuck with me.
“Reggie and I will be looking into that later,” Dean replies cryptically, and I frown at him.
“I want to see.”
“No,” all three of the men say sternly.
“Nothing good will come from you seeing what some sick bastard did to Pumpkin. Seeing the aftermath is bad enough. Reg and I will look at it, and then I will let you know what I see,” Dean argues. My lips form into a frown, then I open my mouth to argue with him, but he stops me with one look. A ferocious look that would turn me on in other circumstances. “Rosalie, this isn’t about you being frail or me trying to be a protective asshole. This is just something you don’t need to see. You have had Pumpkin for years, and he was practically your child. I won’t budge on this.”
I squint my eyes at him in frustration but feel my shoulders drop in defeat and my lip quivering as I try to hold back my tears, then I nod my head to him.
“I think I will take a bath,” I say quietly, and turn to walk towards the bathroom. None of them follow me. Finn doesn’t even make a suggestive comment about joining me. They just let me be. When I get into the bathroom, I look at myself in the mirror and see my poor cat’s blood staining my clothes. I rip them off and stuff them into the trashcan, knowing that I could never bear to wear them again. It’s after the door is shut and I am truly alone that I break down. I break down in a way that you can only do by yourself. It’s not the hysterics of when something horrible first happens. No, it’s when it sets in and sits on your chest. A hopeless feeling overwhelms you, and you just let the tears flow, your chest constricting with the pain of your silent sobs.
I turn the water to hot with just a small amount of cold and watch as the bath fills. I could probably fill this bath with tears, I think with a small pathetic smile. A smile full of self pity and an unwillingness to move on from this moment of horror. I push a button on my phone and pull my hair from its messy bun, then step into the bath. The water is precariously close to the top, but I settle in anyway.
I soak into the bath, feeling the water warm my soul but doing nothing to mend my broken heart. Can vampires do drugs? Man, I'd love something right now. Like, would weed even get me high? I lean my head back and sink deeper into the water, closing my eyes shut tightly. The sounds of a beautifully depressing song echo within the room, coming from my 'Fucking Emo n Shit' playlist. Yes, I'm a cliché. There’s something about drowning your sorrow in sadness until you can't be sad anymore that just works, and that's where I'm heading. Nothing breaks your heart like a little James Blunt.
I hear the quiet sounds of my men speaking in the living room, but I am able to ignore them easily enough. I'm sure they are plotting ways to only keep me upstairs now. Maybe they'll padlock me in here. Whatever. I'm done, no more Miss Nice Rose. When I find out who fucking crossed me, I will set the Earth on fire. A padlock won't stop me, nor will a Whitaker. I will no longer be the victim; I will be the hand of death.
"Rose?” I hear my name said quietly and keep my eyes closed, choosing to ignore whoever is on the other side of the door. I soak deeper into the bath, so that only my face is sticking out. “Fuck. Am I dead?” The words drift into my head again, err my ears?
“Hello?” I say out loud, raising my head of out of the water so that I can hear better.
No answer.
“Is someone there?” I yell, waiting for a reply. “Sebastian? Finn? Dean? Is that you?” I ask, listening carefully for an answer. Nothing.
“Okay, Google, stop music,” I command, and my phone immediately stops the playlist. “You guys, are you fucking with me?” Now I’m starting to get a little mad. They wouldn’t do anything to mess with me in the state I’m in. I know that. Could it be the cat-murderer? I get out of the bath and stand facing the door, dripping water onto the floor.
“If you are the one that killed my cat, I will rip your fucking head off and bathe in your blood, you fucker,” I say in my most menacing voice.
Shit, I am dead, aren’t I? Rose, did I die? The voice comes again, but this time I can tell that I’m not hearing with my ears. I’m hearing with my–mind? No, that can’t be it.
“Who are you?” I ask the silent room, catching sight of my reflection in the mirror and the crazed look on my face. Is that it? Am I going crazy?
Who am I? I’m Pumpkin, your cat of eleven years. Who else would it be? the voice shouts out in a very sarcastic tone, with a weird sound at the end. Shit, I hear purring in my head.
Dean
I hear her talking from the bathroom, but I just let her be. Maybe she is talking to herself, maybe she is talking to her poor deceased cat. Either way, I know that she doesn’t want to be bothered and that I need to respect that, even if it makes me want to scream. It is taking everything inside me not to snatch her up and lock her in a room. I would lock us all in a room if I thought it’d help. If I thought Rose wouldn’t fucking flay me for just thinking it. The need to protect my mate is bone deep, and I feel horrible that I haven’t been doing a good job at it.
“What the fuck is happening to me?” Rose’s voice cracks on a sob as the words leave her mouth, loud enough that we can hear her speaking in the bathroom where we sit in the living room. I look at my brothers, and we all speed to the door. We’ll break down the motherfucking door if that’s what it takes to protect her, even if it’s from herself. When I reach the door, I slam my fist into it.
“Rosalie, baby, can you please let us in?” I ask loudly, hoping that she will just comply. A rush of relief flows through my body when I hear the lock click, and I am greeted by my robed mate. It is clear by her face that she has been crying the whole time; it’s the look of fear on her face that causes me to pause.
“He’s talking to me,” she says, shock on her face.
“Who is?” I ask, feeling fear myself.
She pauses, looking at each of us nervously. “Pumpkin.”
“What the fuck are you talking about, Rosalie?” Finn asks, unable to control his brashness, even in a moment like this.
“Pumpkin is talking to me.” She pauses, then taps her temple. “In here.”
“Um—babe. I don’t really…” Sebastian trails off, looking at Rose with concern.
“I fucking know this sounds crazy. Okay? I fucking know it. But he asked me if he was dead. He said my fucking name!” She immediately comes to her own defense and looks at us pleadingly. “I need to see him.”
“Calm down. You can see him. He is in the same spot you left him in,” I say calmly, holding my hand out to her. She looks at my hand for a long time, then nods and grabs it, dragging me into the living room.
“I know this sounds crazy.” She repeats the words again, as if trying to sound less crazy. I give her hand a light squeeze, trying to comfort her, trying to reassure her that I am here for her even if I don’t know what the hell is going on.
We step into the living room and walk straight over to where we left Pumpkin in his bed in the corner of the room. Except he isn’t there. Blood stains the beige fabric where his body lay just moments ago, but there is no other sign of him.
“What the fuck?” Finn says, taking the words straight from my own head. Where the fuck is Pumpkin?
“Pumpkin? Where are you, baby boy?” Rose asks the room in a hysterical tone. She pauses, her body going stiff as a board, then she turns slowly towards the kitchen. “But you are my baby boy,” she says, now dragging me towards the kitchen.
“Rose, who are you talking to?” Sebastian asks, he and Finn following behind us c
losely.
“Pumpkin!” she says, still looking around. “Will you just come out?” she asks the empty room. I look around and see nothing. Nothing out of place, nothing odd, and sure as shit no vampire cat. Can a cat even become a vampire? I cannot think of one fucking vampire that has even attempted to change an animal. The repercussions could be huge. There is no way to control an animal, even if it is a pet. There is a large possibility it could just go sprinting through town and biting every human in reach. Fuck, it could change other animals. I stiffen a bit at that thought. The only reason I even played along with the whole ‘changing the cat’ attempt was for Rosalie. I honestly believed it wouldn’t work, that it would be a waste of time. For her, though, I would do anything.
“Can you hear him?” she asks, turning towards me. My brows knit together in concern, and I pause, unsure how to answer the question. Truthfully is my only option. I can’t spend the rest of our existence pretending to speak to a cat that isn’t here. That would be crazy.
“No, darling. I cannot hear anything,” I reply solemnly. She frowns but doesn’t look sad. She looks annoyed.
“Can either of you hear him? Like a sassy kind of sarcastic voice? Sometimes with purring.” she explains, looking to Finn and Sebastian now. I wince, as I can only guess what Finn’s response will be. In no way will she be prepared for his words, so I glare at him.
“No, baby, I don’t. But I believe you,” Finn states resolutely.
“You do?” I ask, unbelievingly.
“You don’t?” Rose snaps back at me. I blanch and look back to her, regretting my words wholeheartedly.
“It just seems unlikely that only you can hear your cat. I am very concerned that he is missing, and I do agree that we should be looking for him. Especially if the person that killed him came back to finish the job. But no, Rosalie, I do not think that he is speaking to you from the dead.” As I say the words, I watch her face drop, and it makes me feel sick to my stomach. Hurting her is something I never want to do, but this is ridiculous. We need to be vigilant. We need to be searching the apartment for an attacker, not playing into Rosalie’s delusions. Even thinking the words makes me wince, and I want to take them back.
“What about you, Seb?” she asks, staring straight at him. He fidgets but stares straight back into her eyes.
“I don’t know. I’ve never encountered anything like this in all of my existence. It seems very weird that the cat is missing,” he replies, dancing around the question.
Rose frowns again, then keeps looking around the room. “Pumpkin? Please come out,” she begs, and my heart clenches at her tone.
“No! I promise you that they would never hurt you. Would you guys?” She looks back at us, and we stare at her, none of us answering.
“You guys, tell Pumpkin you would never hurt him,” she presses, glaring at us to answer.
“We would never hurt you, Pumpkin,” Finn states loudly, and I look at my brother in disbelief. Who the fuck is this person? Six months ago, I would never have believed that he would be speaking to a dead cat for a woman. Then again, six months ago, I didn’t think that we would ever have Rose.
“We would never hurt you,” Sebastian repeats the words, then they all look at me. Am I going to play along with this? Is this healthy? Will this hurt her more in the end when she finally has to accept that Pumpkin is dead?
“Rose, you know that we would never hurt something you love so much. You are everything to us,” I state, looking at her unflinchingly.
She mouths the words thank you to me, then turns with a huge smile on her face as Pumpkin steps out from behind the cabinet.
Rose
“Holy fucking shit,” Dean says in shock, taking a step back. Pumpkin walks forward proudly, his tail swishing in the air like he is king shit. He has always thought he was king shit, I think with a smile.
I am king shit, he replies to my unspoken words, somehow looking like he is smiling back at me. What the fucking fuck?
Have you always been like this? Self-aware? I ask the questions in my head, testing to see if this shit is really real. Can I speak to my cat fucking telepathically?
Of course, I have. What do you think I’ve been doing this whole time? I’ve been protecting you. He looks at me like I should already know this, and I gasp.
Protecting me? You are a cat! I reply, looking at the silly feline in disbelief.
I have never been simply a cat, Rose. I am your familiar. He states the words with such certainty that I can’t help but believe him.
A familiar? Aren’t those just for witches? I’m not a witch, I argue, shaking my head.
“Rosalie, what the fuck is happening?” Finn asks, a slight smile in his voice. I take notice of myself and find that I am now sitting on the floor in front of Pumpkin. Pumpkin sits on the floor directly in front of me, and we are staring at each other. Communicating telepathically. Have I slipped into a fucking episode of Sabrina the Teenage Witch?
“I can hear him, up here,” I say again, pointing at my temple.
“Yes, you mentioned that, but the bloody cat can’t have that much to say. You’ve been silently staring at the cat for like five minutes,” Finn retorts.
That makes me laugh, loudly. I laugh so hard that Pumpkin startles a bit but remains sitting in front of me. The reality of the moment hits me, and I dive into hysterical laughter. I’m a fucking vampire. I have three mates, also vampires. My cat died, then didn’t. Now he can communicate with me telepathically. This is fucking insane.
“He can hear me too. I think we are speaking telepathically,” I explain, unsure if that makes me sound crazier, or if I am staying at the same level of crazy.
“Well, that is fucking weird,” Finn replies with a laugh. I look over at Sebastian and Dean. Seb is smiling, but poor Dean just looks confused, like his logical brain can’t wrap itself around this whole thing.
“I mean, we are vampires. This isn’t that big of a leap, is it?” I ask, looking at Dean.
“I mean, I guess not. There are witches that say they can speak to their familiars telepathically, but I’ve always been skeptical that it would just happen. I had always assumed that some sort of spell was involved. But you are not a witch, and Pumpkin is not your familiar, so that doesn’t quite work out…” Dean trails off in thought. “Unless—does he know who his attacker is? That could be helpful.”
“Pumpkin says he is my familiar. That he has been protecting me,” I state firmly.
“Protecting you from what? I’ve never seen this little shit do anything more than sleep,” Finn retorts with another laugh.
Asshole, Pumpkin hisses both in my head and out loud. I’ve always liked him. I roll my eyes at Pumpkin and smile.
“What did he say?” Finn growls, eyeing the cat suspiciously.
“That you are an asshole, and that he’s always liked you,” I reply with a giggle.
“Awww, you are a cute little fucker,” Finn says, bending down and rubbing Pumpkin’s head and behind his ear, earning him a purr from the cat. I look at Pumpkin, thinking hard about Dean’s unanswered question.
“Pumpkin, did you see your attacker?” I ask out loud so that the men can hear me and don’t wonder why I am just sitting in silence again. We need to get a handle on this communication thing.
Sadly, I did not. I had come down with you and your friends, then fell asleep behind the bar. When I woke up, you were all gone, so I cozied up in that wonderful bed you guys made. All of a sudden, there was so much pain. The creature smelled feline, but different than your typical feline shifters. I couldn’t really see anything until I woke up in my bed up here, Pumpkin explains, and I wince at the thought of him in pain. Of him being ripped from sleep like that. I repeat his words to the guys, who listen intently.
“What does all this mean?” Sebastian asks, looking at Dean.
“It means that Rose may be a witch, and that what I believed about familiars isn’t true. It also means that we are dealing with an unknown supernatural for
ce that is possibly feline. Possibly with some kind of ability to cloak itself.” Dean frowns in thought, staring at Finn petting my cat. “I need to go to the library, and you need to speak with a witch. See what you can learn. I hate to suggest it, but maybe you should head over to Jewels Cafe and talk with Julian. He isn’t the best witch, but he is one nonetheless.”
“Do you think it’s wise to let her leave while Pumpkin’s killer is still out there?” Sebastian asks, again looking at Dean.
“You’re right. Rose, see if Julian will come over here. I’m going to have Reg watch the video of last night’s attack and see what we can find out. We still aren’t safe, but at least Pumpkin isn’t dead. I suppose, well, he must be a vampire now? That must have intensified his familiar powers, making it easier to communicate with you. Maybe Violet with have something on that.” He pauses, then looks at me. “She is the librarian in town and also a supe. You know, Calluna might also be able to help, but we would need to go to her pet store, Beastie Besties. Maybe she has heard of pets with supernatural powers.” Dean has gone into information gathering overload, and I can’t help but smile as I watch the gears in his brain turning.
“Don’t think too hard, brother, or your brain will explode,” Finn jabs.
Sebastian laughs at that, bending down to also pet Pumpkin. “This is his element, and his nerdiness is showing. I don’t know how much Rose has seen of this since he hasn’t acted like this since we opened Vee and he felt the need to over research that. As if there are hundreds of vampire bar owner manuals out there.”
“We have to research how vampires in history have been viewed owning bars. If this could truly be a good cover to feed. We also need to research ways to keep the human population from finding out what we are.” Finn puts together his best Dean impression, complete with voice, causing Sebastian and I to crack up. I swear, even Pumpkin makes a noise of humor.
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