Black Cat Crossing

by Fitz Molly

  Was it possible for a cat to roll its eyes? Because it seemed like that's what just happened. "No?"

  The cat yowled.

  "I think you have your answer," Sam said.

  "If you poop on my carpet, you're out on your ear," I warned her. She stuck her tail up in the air and turned her butt to us.

  "She might do it now just because you insulted her," Sam said.

  We watched as the cat trotted into the woods. I had no desire to have a cat or familiar, but I hoped she didn't get lost. Sam, sensing where my thoughts were going, elbowed me gently. "She'll be fine. Cats are fine prey hunters."

  "Yes, but so are other things in those woods." And thus, without meaning to, we'd circled back around to the subject at hand. "So ... not a werewolf."

  "Not a werewolf," Sam agreed. "But werewolves have come to Moonmist and they're responsible for what happened to Mindy."

  "How do you know?"

  "Because I met one of them outside right by Mindy's body."

  This time I did lurch forward. My cooling cocoa sloshed over the top of the mug. "Excuse me? Didn't you think that was important to mention to Sloane?" I blurted.

  One of his shaggy eyebrows rose. "I did. You'd already left by then. But it doesn't matter. Neither one of them believed me."

  "Werewolves aren't exactly an easy thing to believe in," I admitted.

  Sam snorted and shook his head. "We live in a tiny town full of odd magic users with elemental controlled weather and you think werewolves are a hard sell?"

  My lips twitched begrudgingly. "I had this conversation with someone else recently. They said the same thing. I guess not, but werewolves are scary, you know? We live in a town full of people like me and Sloane."

  His bark of laughter this time was loud. "You don't count necromancy in the terrifying category?" He eyed me. "You've become friends with him, haven't you?"

  I nodded. "Plus, he's never shown me anything too scary," I admitted.

  "Necromancers are covered with dark magic, Ivy. I might be dangerous just by virtue of what I can become, but Sloane is dangerous because of who he is. He can control the dead, which means if he wanted to, he could walk right into someone's house and raise their dead aunt Sally and make that woman walk into their home and make them breakfast."

  "Eeew," I said eloquently. "That's gross but not terrifying."

  "Isn't it, though?" he asked. "What isn't terrifying about someone being able to control life and death?"

  I thought about it. "I guess you're right. But I'm not scared of him. If someone thought about it that way, I think they'd be terrified of me, too."

  Sam nodded at that. "They should. Being able to control emotion is possibly even scarier. I just have book magic. You can manipulate the way someone feels."

  I glanced at him sharply. "Cannot."

  "Can too," he argued. "You just haven't tried it yet."

  "How in the world could you possibly know what I can do?"

  He tapped the side of his head. "Bibliomancer," he reminded me. "I know this because I read about your kind of magic. You fall into the empath category, but I suspect you fall into a different sub-category because you can infuse inanimate objects with emotion. It's a very cool power if you think about it."

  I waved my hand at him because I wasn't ready to talk about me yet. "Back to the werewolf you met. Tell me about that."

  Sam's expression darkened. "He wasn't responsible for what happened to Mindy, but he knew who was. The local pack accidentally let one of their newly turned wolves escape captivity."

  "Hooollllld up," I said. "Pack? Newly turned? Are you seriously telling me there's a werewolf pack living in Moonmist?"

  "Yes," another voice said from the dark.

  The darn cat came trotting out, leading a wiry, handsome man out of the woods. I stilled, my heart beating a thousand miles an hour as I watched him. The man's eyes glowed a bright gold, and he moved with a slow grace. He held his hands out in front of him. "I mean you no harm. I promise. My name is Alec. I am the Alpha of Pack Moonmist. We don't come out of the shadows often. When we do, it's usually for unfortunate reasons." He nodded to Sam. "I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, Ms. Ivy."

  Not a lie. The man told the truth. I couldn't sense any ill intent in him, but his power wrapped around him like a cloak. Whoever this Alpha was, he had power in spades. The cat walked up to the patio, jumped up, yowled at the werewolf, and laid down on her stomach, watching him with those deep emerald eyes.

  Alec grinned, his teeth a glint of white in the darkening sky. "I like your cat," he said. "She came out and led me right to you. Well, Sam specifically. We parted on strange terms," he said to Sam. "I bring you more information."

  "Would you like some cocoa?" I asked.

  His eyes widened with surprise as he stepped onto the patio. "I would love some. It's been many years since we've been offered hospitality."

  That was ... sad. Really sad. "It will take me a minute to make it, but please come and warm yourself by the fire and catch up with Sam." I motioned to a chair beside the librarian and walked back inside the house. My knees sagged as soon as the door closed behind me and I counted to ten trying to stop my frantic heartbeat.

  Bob clomped out a moment later. "Ivy?" Concern lit his voice.

  I held a hand up. "I'm fine. But there's a werewolf sitting on my patio."

  Bob's eyes flared a brilliant blue. "What?!"

  I jerked my thumb to the porch. "See for yourself."

  Bob practically fell all over himself to the back door. I grinned as a shout of alarm came from Alec. If the guy lived in the woods his entire life, there's no way he's seen my animate skeleton.

  Chapter Five

  I brought four steaming mugs of hot chocolate out. Mine had gone cold and Sam's probably had too. Bob just wanted to hold his, and I wanted to make sure he didn't feel left out. When I got outside, Alec and Bob had their heads together talking earnestly about something. Sam sat back and watched them. I handed them each a mug and took my seat again. This was one of the weirdest days I'd ever had and it didn't seem to be slowing down.

  "We tracked him to the Moonmist river, but we lost the trail." Alec shook his head in frustration. "I can't figure it out. We can track anyone, especially if we have their smell, but we keep losing him."

  Sam had put his glasses back on. I frowned at him because I now knew the odds of him actually needing them were low. "Tell me about his parentage," he said.

  Alec frowned. "Two wolves. They're in my pack. Nothing unique about them that I can tell."

  "Could one of his parents be witchborn?"

  Alec sat back, his expression one of alarm. "Usually the wolf magic burns through other magics. But maybe." He stroked his chin. "If that's the case, it would be the first mixed werewolf born in hundreds of years." His eyes flashed gold. "How in the world would a jail cell hold him then?"

  A shiver ran down my spine. It was a good question. "The police department probably has something strong enough. But it would be a good idea to know what kind of magic he has."

  Alec sighed. "I must get back to my people." He held up the mug. "It was delicious. I'm sorry I couldn't finish the rest of it."

  "Take the mug if you want to," I told him. "It's fresh and the night is cold."

  Alec's eyes lit up. "Truly?"

  I nodded. "Truly."

  He sketched a graceful bow and bounded off the porch. To my surprise, not a single drop of cocoa spilled. "Farewell, Ms. Ivy! I shall see you again."

  If those words weren't foreboding, I wasn't sure what was.

  "He didn't say goodbye to me," Bob pouted.

  "You aren't a pretty little dark-haired lady," Sam said with a laugh.

  "Hush, you two," I grumped. "Aren't you even curious about finding this wolf?"

  Bob snorted. "You'd be the height of insane if you went traipsing about in the woods trying to track a murderous werewolf."

  "That's never stopped her before," Sam muttered. He stood and set his mu
g down. "Thank you for speaking with me, Ivy. I hope your breakfast with Sloane goes well tomorrow."

  Funny. He sounded the exact opposite, and I knew he was lying. One of my eyebrows went up at him and he chuckled. "I'll have to remember not to lie to an empath."

  "I don't think that's what I am," I retorted.

  "Never argue with a Bibliomancer," Sam said. His eyes flashed gold as he winked and walked to the driveway.

  When he was gone, Bob blew out a breath. I still didn't know how he did that without any lips. "You sure do know how to make friends, don't you?"

  I groaned. "I have no idea what happened today, but this makes me want to take up a safe hobby. Like knitting."

  "You already make soap," Bob reminded me.

  "Yeah, and I have a necromancer, a werewolf, and a know it all shifter librarian as friends."

  Bob stood and cracked his spine. "I wouldn't call them friends," he warned. "They're all interested in you."

  I held up a hand. "Nope, nope, and no way. Getting involved with any of them would be an absolute disaster."

  "I think this is the first time we've ever agreed with each other so easily," Bob said. As he walked into the house, he stopped at the door. "Leave the werewolf thing alone, Ivy. They can be dangerous creatures. Alec might appear to be a gentleman, but the full moon rules him for one full night and two days on either side. This is one where your curiosity will only put you in danger."

  With that, he let the door shut behind him, leaving me outside to ponder all the ways my life had gone wrong.

  The next morning, Sloane let himself into the shop and into my kitchen. He was freshly shaven and dressed in business casual slacks and a button-down shirt. He smelled like a winter forest and I inhaled discreetly. Even over the cinnamon roll smell in my house, I could smell him.

  "These look amazing," he said.

  "Careful. They're hot." I handed him a spatula and Sloane took a large helping. "Coffee?"

  He nodded gratefully as I poured him a cup and handed it to him.

  "Come outside." I held open the door, and we walked onto the patio. This was the absolute best money I'd spent in a long time.

  Sloane settled himself onto the patio furniture and I told him about what happened last night. By the time I finished, Sloane's expression was stony. "You welcomed a werewolf into your home?" His voice was seething with anger.

  Irritated, I sat up straighter and glared at him. "No. I welcomed him onto my patio."

  "Foolish girl," he muttered.

  My lips pressed tight and I counted to five. "I'm no girl, Sloane Kramer. If you insult me again, I'll rescind my welcome to you. No more cinnamon rolls, cider, or hot coffee."

  Sloane blinked at me and his expression went contrite. "You're right. I'm sorry. It was uncalled for."

  Surprised, all I could do was give him a shake of my head. "Fine. Apology accepted."

  "Good then. First, I need to remind you that chasing werewolves is a very bad idea. Let the police handle this one."

  I almost growled at him. "Why does everyone keep saying that to me?" I grumped.

  "Because you want to be involved in everything if someone you care about is accused."

  "But Sam didn't do it!" I insisted.

  "And we'll find that out," Sloane retorted. "In due time. With due process. Okay?"

  I bit into a cinnamon roll and didn't say a word.

  Sloane's chuckle was deep and low. "Stubborn lady," he said affectionately.

  I ignored it and was about to tell him about the potential witch blood when my sister Holly stepped outside. I waved at her and nudged the pan of cinnamon rolls. "Oooh," she said with delight. "Don't mind if I do." She saw Sloane sitting there and stopped. "Am I interrupting something?"

  Sloane shook his head. "I'm just leaving." They'd met before and had a cool relationship with each other. I didn't understand why. Holly was awesome. But she was lukewarm about Sloane as well. I didn't think anything happened between them, but it was a definite odd dynamic, that was for sure.

  I waved goodbye to Sloane and caught up with my sister. She rarely stopped by of her own volition, so I didn't plan to squander this time with negative talk.

  But when she sat down, I could tell her expression was concerned.

  "Holly?"

  "Something tore up my entire back garden last night," she blurted.

  I gasped in surprise. My sister's magic was tied to plants so losing one of them must have felt like a death in the family. "Oh, Holly, I'm so sorry."

  "I looked outside and all I could see was this massive ... thing." She shook her head and dashed her tears away with the tissue crumpled in her hand. "It was making a terrible racket - weird growling sounds. It almost sounded like it was hurt."

  "I'm glad you didn't go outside. If you see it again, get inside in a hurry and don't engage." My mind whirled with the possibilities. What was it doing in her garden?

  "Did it take anything?" I asked.

  She nodded. "That's the weird thing. It took wolfsbane."

  The one thing that could repel werewolves. Odd. "Anything else?"

  Holly sighed. "Some of my sage and a little bit of rosemary." A wet laugh came from her. "You can't cook with wolfsbane, but the other two made me wonder if it was making a turkey."

  We snorted together, and I filled her in on what was happening.

  She blinked at the word "werewolf."

  "That seems farfetched," she said.

  "In a town where the weather is controlled by magic and you make plants grow with your magical fingers?"

  She tilted her head. "When you put it that way..."

  "Yeah," I agreed. I reached over and took her hand. "Let's catch up. I can head over later and help you make heads or tails of your garden, but for now, let's chat."

  Holly sat back and smiled at me. "As long as you pony up more than one of those rolls, I'll stay as long as you like."

  "Done," I said.

  Chapter Six

  The internet search I did on werewolves didn't make me feel any better than I had before. In fact, it opened up a deep sense of trepidation inside of me. Alec was articulate and well-mannered, but he still turned furry on the full moon. Could we trust someone like that? I thought about Sam. I forgot to ask if he was tied to the moon, but I'd let him inside my house when I thought he might be involved in a murder. I was being a judgy Mcgee, wasn't I?

  I clicked off the search engine and stretched. Today I'd kept the shop closed because it was Halloween. My favorite day of the year. The house was decorated, the cider was piping hot on the stove, and I'd bought enough candy to keep the Moonmist dentists in cavity work for the next five years. My costume was all laid out on the back of the chair and I'd figured out my makeup the night before.

  Mindy's murderer was still on the loose and had been for the last few days, but there hadn't been any more crime - a fact we were all glad of. Sam and Sloane had made themselves scarce which, honestly, was a relief to me. Too much testosterone had been in my shop lately. I needed to get some girlfriends to drink wine with and gossip. My assistant had made me untrusting of other people and it wasn't a good space to be in. I wanted friends, but I wanted trustworthy friends.

  Trinity came to mind, and I tried to squash the thought right away. There was no use thinking about her because she'd betrayed me in the worst way. Then when I tried to stop thinking about her, Cliff popped right back into my mind. He'd been scarce, too, but I knew the man and he wouldn't take no for an answer when he finally came around again.

  Bob sat on the porch wearing a jaunty hat. He held a large bucket of candy and delighted every single year in scaring the bejeezums out of unsuspecting kids who reached in to grab a handful of candy. Of course, most of the kids in town knew about him, but every year he managed to scare at least a few new kids right out of their costumes. I couldn't help but laugh at how much he loved it, and I suspected the other kids who acted scared played along because it made him happy. I waved at him as I passed by the windo
w and grabbed my costume off the chair. I had some time to change before I was due in town.

  This year, we planned a town-wide hayride and a harvest festival with trick or treating for the kids who didn't want to come through the neighborhoods. This usually meant the kids would go through the neighborhoods first, snatch up all the candy to be had, then head right to whatever festival we planned that year and snag even more sweets.

  Like I said, the dentists would have an excellent year coming up. I dressed quickly and slid on a pair of comfortable boots. You couldn't see them underneath the voluminous skirts - a fact I'd forever be thankful for. There was little worse than walking in shoes that pinched your toes for long periods of time. I touched the hot rollers I'd turned on earlier to make sure they were hot and quickly rolled my shoulder-length hair. While the curls were setting, I carefully applied my makeup, using eyeshadow to get a good soot effect around my eyes - like I was wearing goggles in a polluted environment. When I finished, I stepped back, pursed my blood-red lips and grinned at myself.

  Steampunk pirate for the win. I pulled out my curls, fluffed my hair and pinned my jaunty feathered hat to the side of my head. Satisfied, I grabbed my custom fake parasol gun and headed outside.

  Bob's eyes flared orange, and he whistled low. "Gracious, Ivy. I don't like to compliment people because I find it beneath me, but I think you're going to come home a taken woman tonight."

  I barked a surprised laugh and gave him a saucy curtsy. "Why thank you, Sir Bob. I appreciate your kind words." Then I pointed the parasol gun at him. "But give me all your money, please."

  Bob chuckled and waved me away with a bony hand. "Have fun tonight, but be careful. The wolf is still out there."

  I hadn't forgotten. How could I? “I'm always careful," I said lightly as I stepped off the porch to make the short walk into town.

  Yesterday I'd set up a large display of harvest-themed soaps infused with gratitude and joy. They were deep orange and brown mixed with pops of white and cheery pumpkin patches piped on top. The scents varied, but I'd chosen all fall scents full of clove and sugar cookies, and all the wonderful things we only baked once a year. As I passed by the booth and saw people admiring the gift basket I'd donated to the upcoming auction, I had a pang of grief for my mother. She would have loved to see me and my sisters now. I wish she could have.