Chasing Cats

by ERIN BEDFORD

  “You aren’t being honest, Kat,” he said, sounding hurt.

  I frowned, my stomach tightened in knots. I didn’t think repeating what happened with my old friends would be a good idea, not only because I didn’t want to injure Chess’ feelings, but because I didn’t want to have the conversation about what my relationship with them before was like. So I did what Fae did best: be evasive as fuck.

  “I just did it.” I threw the dress on the bed, a dark blue t-shirt style that would hit me just below mid-thigh. It happened to be the only dress my mother wouldn’t give me crap about and still wasn’t too girly for my tastes.

  “I see.” Chess spread himself out on my bed, looking very much at home, and too perfect in my room. He fingered the dress while he watched me carefully.

  Avoiding his gaze, I went in search of a pair of acceptable shoes. In most cases, I would have gone straight for the flats. For some reason, my hands landed on the only pair of heels I owned instead.

  They weren’t expensive by any means. They were black with a low, two-inch heel and a strap that wrapped around my ankle. They weren’t ‘fuck me heels’ by society standards, but I’d never had any complaints.

  “I suppose the scent of a certain pair of twins I caught on my way in had nothing to do with it?” his voice was dark and sensual but had a bite to it that made me wince.

  “You can’t wear that.” I attempted to evade his question as I slipped the dress over my head and the towel.

  Though, the mirror was still covered by a sheet, I could see a faint outline of Chess as he moved from the bed. I let the towel pool at my feet as a pair of strong, warm arms wrapped around me.

  “You don’t need to hide from me, Kat,” he murmured in my hair. “I know what those in both courts say about my kind. I’ve had time to get used to it. So, do not worry about sparing my feelings.”

  “Doesn’t mean it is right,” I countered, acutely aware of how naked I was underneath the dress.

  “Right or wrong. What does it matter? It is what it is, and there is no use in worrying your pretty little head about it now.” He gave me a squeeze and released me without more than a slight caress.

  The air rippled around me as it did when magic was afoot, and I stepped out of the towel at my feet to see what had happened.

  “How do I look?” he asked.

  With his glamour back in place, Chess no longer had his adorable ears. His pink hair was braided and blond and it lay across his shoulder. His bare chest was covered with a dark plum colored button-up and was tucked into a pair of black dress pants with matching dress shoes. He looked normal, and yet still, otherworldly.

  “Well?” He inclined his head to the side, a small grin on his face displaying the lack of fangs in his mouth.

  “You look like you stepped out of one of those fashion magazines.” Just then, my gaze caught sight of said magazine sitting on the floor by the bed. It was opened up to a page showing a male model with the exact same outfit, though Chess wore it infinitely better. “You did jack that from a magazine! Isn’t that cheating?”

  He gave an elegant shrug. “I only used what was at my disposal. Do you not like it?”

  He grabbed my hand, pulling me to him as I tried to turn for the door. Instead of touching the cloth of his new shirt, I felt the warm skin of his chest. To make matters worse on my rising pulse, his invisible tail whipped out and slid up the length of my legs beneath my dress. It wasn’t like I wasn’t used to him groping me, but not seeing it when I could feel it made it so much creepier, and yet weirdly exciting. It was going to be one of those kinds of nights, I could already tell.

  When his tail got too close to my bare butt, I pulled myself away from his grasp without answering his question. Grabbing a pair of underwear from the laundry pile, I inelegantly pulled them on while he watched with laughter in his eyes. Ignoring him, I shoved my feet into my shoes and kneeled down to buckle the straps. When those were done, I grabbed my keys off the nightstand and headed out the door with Chess in tow.

  I stepped out onto the front porch, and he made a noise behind me.

  “Where are we going?”

  I rolled my eyes at him. “To my mom’s, of course.”

  “But how will we be getting there?”

  “In my car, of course.” I headed to my car.

  It wasn’t an expensive car: a small, four-door blue sedan that I had driven since high school. It was old, and the stereo system was out of date and crackled sometimes. But it was mine, and mine alone. I had bought it with my own money from my part-time job at Dairy Queen. Not that I had to work—my parents would have been more than happy to buy me a car—but it would have been some extravagant foreign car that cost more than what was normal for a sixteen-year-old's first car should.

  Chess snorted behind me, and my hand paused on the door handle.

  “What?”

  “Why use that when we could use a mirror and be there in no time?” His voice was arrogant but had an underlying nervousness to it.

  “Are you scared, Chess?” A small, teasing smile crept up onto my face.

  “No,” he snapped. “I just do not see the point of riding in that.” He pointed his finger at my car, and I bristled. “We could just as well use magic.”

  “And where, pray tell, would we come out at?” I crossed my arms; annoyed he was dissing my car. “We don’t have mirrors linked up to everyone’s houses here, and even if we did, I could imagine all kinds of trouble coming from people entering without permission. Not to forget, these are humans, it would be weird for us just to pop up in their house unannounced. Besides, I don’t think this is about using magic at all. I think you’re scared.” A delighted glee filled my face. I danced a little jiggle, wiggling my hips back and forth, calling out in a singsong voice, “Chess is a big, old, scaredy cat.”

  “Fine. Let’s get in your death trap.” He marched past me and shoved himself into my car, slamming the door behind him.

  Frowning, I opened the driver side of the car and slid in. Had I taken it too far? I put the key in the ignition and started the engine, glancing at Chess, who was digging his nails into the seat of the car.

  “Hey.” I grabbed his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Relax. You have nothing to worry about. I’m a great driver.”

  Dropping his hand, I threw the car into reverse and peeled out of the driveway. Chess yowled in protest, and I tried to repress a chuckle. This was definitely going to be an interesting dinner.

  Chapter 10

  Sunday Dinner

  “THAT WASN’T SO bad, was it?” I asked when we arrived at my parent’s house.

  Chess didn’t answer, and I turned to look at him. I tried not to laugh. His hair stood on end and his glamour flickered in place, making his already petrified eyes even more so by the changing of his pupil back and forth from human to feline.

  “Chess?” I spoke in a soft voice so as not to spook him. I held my hand out. He turned to look at me, but it was like he didn’t really see me. He blinked over and over, and then he was out the car door, and making his way up to my family’s house.

  Jumping out of the car, I hurried after him as fast as my heels would let me. I caught up with him as I made my way up the walkway of the old Victorian style house my mother was so proud of. Keeping history alive, she liked to say. But to me, it was gaudy and screamed, ‘Look how much money we have!’ It was three stories, with way more rooms than anyone needed, let alone an old married couple whose kids were out of the house.

  “Chess, are you all right?”

  “I’m fine,” he muttered as we headed up the steps.

  I didn’t need Fae senses to tell it was a lie. His shoulders were stiff, and his hands were clenched into fists. I was about to call him out on his bluff when the front door opened to reveal my mother’s housekeeper, Hillary.

  Hillary was an older woman whose pale skin was only made paler by her pitch-black hair that had started going white wh
ile I was away at college. She had sharp eyes, a grim smile, and eyes that saw everything a little kid did, even when in a different part of the monstrous house.

  My sister and I despaired whenever Hillary was tasked with watching us for the day. It meant no playing around, and we’d end up doing more chores than usual. One time, I was in the kitchen trying to sneak a snack when Hillary’s grim voice called out from the third floor.

  “Katherine, get out of the kitchen and come help me clean up your disaster of a room.”

  I didn’t know how she knew I was in the kitchen, but she always did. I swore it was witchcraft of some kind. Linda and I always got in trouble for doing something we normally wouldn’t have gotten caught with our mother watching us.

  Those same sharp eyes penetrated through me now as if she could tell there was more different about me than my hair color.

  “Katherine,” she greeted with as much warmth as she could muster.

  “Hillary,” I returned with a nod.

  “And this is?” She tilted her chin toward Chess.

  “Oh.” I placed my hand on his arm. The bare muscle flexed beneath my fingers, reminding me of what hid behind his glamour. “This is my friend, Chess. Mom invited him to dinner.”

  Sunday dinner was usually a family affair and only serious boyfriends, or the occasional benefactor my father needed to impress was allowed to join.

  Her hawk eyes narrowed in on Chess. He didn’t make any move to defend himself or greet her, so unlike his usual flirty self. It made me worry the car ride had affected him more than I thought.

  We waited while Hillary came to her own conclusions, none of which she shared with us. She sniffed and opened the door wider, allowing us into the foyer.

  Shutting the door behind us, she gestured toward the door to the right. “Your mother is in the sitting room, and I wouldn’t keep her waiting.”

  The last part was more a warning than anything, letting me know my mother was in one of her moods again. I repressed a sigh and hoped she would calm down when she remembered Chess was here.

  “Hillary!” My mother’s voice screeched through the house. “Who is at the door? Is that Katherine I hear?”

  “Yes, Mom. No need to shout.” I stepped into the sitting room, my shoulders back and ready for a stiff one. Drink, that was.

  “There you are.” My mother stood from her seat on the couch next to my sister, Miss Fucking Perfect, and her fiancé, Mister Fucking Perfect. “We were beginning to think you weren’t going to show up again.”

  And the first round had begun.

  “I couldn’t very well not show up after you asked so nicely.” I smiled sweetly, approaching my chuckling father who sat in his favorite chair by the mantel. “Hi, Daddy.”

  I bent down and kissed his cheek.

  “Hello, sweetheart.” He wrapped an arm around me in a warm hug.

  My father was almost ten years older than my mother and had already begun to bald so much that he had shaved it all off, leaving only his red goatee that was the same shade as my hair. His eyes were the deep forest green that matched mine, except for the age lines that surrounded his. He always had a smile for me and had never once raised a hand or voice at my mother.

  He had been my rock in every difficult bump in my life. When I broke up with my first and only boyfriend in high school, he was there to wipe my tears. When Mom was being unbearable, he was there to calm me down from doing something rash. As an actuary, he had more patience than a saint, and I never did find out if being married to my mother was a self-inflicted punishment or not. Though, he swore Mom was more like me when she was younger, I didn’t believe it.

  A throat cleared next to me, reminding me of my guest’s presence.

  “Katherine, you are being very rude.” My mother latched onto Chess’ arm, pulling him toward a chair.

  If she noticed she was touching skin instead of the cloth of his shirt, she didn’t give it away. Chess let himself be seated, and she perched on the arm of the chair. I sat on the arm of my father’s chair and watched my family interact with Chess.

  Seeming to notice Chess’ distress, my mother did what she did best—poked at it. “Are you all right, dear? You don’t seem to be yourself?”

  Chess glanced up at my mother and offered a weak smile before taking her hand in his, giving it a brush of his lips. “How could I not be with such company surrounding me?”

  Linda giggled on the couch. “Where did you find him? He sounds like a fairy prince from one of your books.”

  If I was the spitting image of my dad, then Linda was everything that embodied my mother. Blonde hair cropped in a fashionable angled bob and subtle makeup, combined with a smart, pale pink blouse with a matching skirt. Kitten heels completed her ensemble and, to make the image even more picturesque, her new fiancé, Simon, sat quietly next to her with a polite smile on his face.

  I’d only met Simon once before, and he had as much character as a lima bean.

  My eyes landed on Chess, and I smirked. “Oh, you know, just something I ordered out of a magazine.”

  Chess cracked the first real smile since we had gotten in my car.

  “So, how did you two get here? Not in that monstrosity you call a car, I hope.” My mom asked.

  “Hey!” I stood from my seat. “There is nothing wrong with my car. It runs fine.”

  She ignored me and gave Chess a pitying look. “I hope you at least didn’t let her drive. Katherine has many hidden skills, but driving is not one of them.”

  I ground my teeth at her blatant jab. I watched Chess’ face for a reaction to her words, pleading in my eyes. I didn’t know how much more of my mother’s quips I could take before I blew up the house.

  Playing the part of perfect dinner guest, Chess smiled. “I don’t know about that. Kat was a wonderful driver. I felt like I could have slept for days knowing I was in her capable hands.”

  “Yeah in a coma,” my sister muttered.

  “Linda, I think we’ve had enough of that,” my father, God bless him, said in an easy tone. “Isn’t dinner supposed to be ready soon?”

  He glanced down at his watch, an old birthday gift I had given to him. It was a Walmart knockoff. My mother had scoffed, but he still wore it every day.

  As if knowing he was asking, Hillary stepped into the doorway. “Dinner is served.”

  “Wonderful.” My mother moved from her spot and gestured to the door. “Shall we all adjourn to the dining room?”

  As we made our way out of the living room, I grabbed Chess’ hand in mine, pulling him behind everyone.

  “Thank you,” I whispered keeping my eyes downcast.

  He squeezed back with one hand and tilted my chin up with the other. “Think nothing of it.”

  The softness in his eyes made my breath catch. He could be so sweet when he wanted to be. Then his tail took that moment to grope my ass. I squeaked in surprise. Knocking his invisible tail away, I gave him a chastising glare, though my heart wasn’t in it.

  As we settled in our seats at the table, Simon cleared his throat.

  “So, Chess. That is an unusual name. What exactly is it that you do?”

  “Do?” Chess tilted his head to the side in a very cat-like manner.

  I hid my smile behind my napkin.

  “Excuse Simon.” My sister placed her hand on her fiancé’s arm. “He means, what is your occupation, your job? You must be some kind of actor or model, right?”

  I didn’t like the way my sister was assessing Chess. She had that slight hungry look in her eyes that most women got when dealing with him.

  “What do I do?” Chess repeated the question back slowly, before giving me a questioning side glance.

  I nodded, giving him permission to say whatever he wanted. I was curious to see how he would handle their questions as well. Would he mention the Fae world?

  He sat up higher in his seat, giving off a commanding presence that had the rest of the room
’s occupants leaning in to listen.

  “I’m the moderator,” he said, matter-of-fact. Most people would have been like ‘I’m a doctor’ or ‘I’m a model,’ but Chess in the Fae realm was The Moderator. The one who settled all disputes between the Fae kingdoms.

  When I was the princess, we didn’t have a moderator. With the UnSeelie Court at fault for my suicide, everything had pretty much defaulted to my mother’s decisions, though, sometimes there would be a dispute between the two realms that had to be handled by a third party and that’s where Chess came in.

  “He’s the moderator between two companies and sometimes he handles civil disputes. Isn’t that right?” I lifted my brow at him, expecting him to play along.

  “Right,” he drew out.

  “So, how much money does that kind of position pay?” Simon asked.

  I almost fell out of my seat.

  Maybe I had misjudged this guy. He at least seemed to have some kind of brain in his head and no filter to his mouth. I suddenly couldn’t wait until their wedding.

  “Simon!” my sister gasped. “You shouldn’t ask such things.”

  While she chastised her fiancé, I could still see that she wanted to know as well.

  I reached for the glass to occupy my mouth while I thought of an answer, but Chess beat me to it.

  “Oh, quite well. I am provided with an unlimited supply of willing companions to meet my every need.”

  I sighed at his response and took a deep drink from my glass. At least one of us knew what was going on.

  “And you know the occasional virgin to keep things interesting.”

  I started coughing, choking on my tea as it went down the wrong pipe. The cup spilled onto the table and into my lap. A warm hand patted me on the back, but I waved it away, and I drew in a breath.

  “Are you all right, dear?” My mother’s concerned voice pulled my attention. “Hillary! Get Katherine a towel for her dress.” She turned her attention back to me. “You’ll want to get that dry cleaned. No need to ruin your only suitable outfit.”

  I refrained from rolling my eyes since my throat was still burning, and I turned to Hillary as she held out a towel for me to dry off with.