Matt blinked, looking at me as if he’d only just noticed that Anselm wasn’t alone. His eyes widened as his gaze moved over me. They lingered on my ears, and I could almost hear him trying to figure out if I was human or not. I wasn’t sure what I was anymore. I wasn’t quite human, but I’d never been entirely cat either. Unless we found a dark witch, I was just something that was slowly dying.
“I’ll put your order in,” Matt finally said, moving away from the table. I picked up my mug. It was heavier than I’d thought it would be, and I had to use both hands to hold it. Pressing it to my lips, I stopped myself from lapping at the milk like I would have done before. Anselm chuckled as I pressed my lips to the edge of the glass to drink like a normal human.
“It's weird the things you forget how to do,” I said. Trying to get used to my new thumbs, I picked up the fork and knife after setting the mug down. It had been so long since I’d needed to use things like cups or utensils, so long since I’d had the digits required to pick up things.
“So long as you’re still potty-trained,” Anselm teased.
I rolled my eyes. “There's always the litter box,” I said, though I still remembered how to use the bathroom.
“I’m sure the shelter has one,” Anselm threatened jokingly, and I laughed. Shocked, I paused to touch my throat, surprised at the sound. It had been a long time since I’d laughed. I’d found humor in things over the years, but even though I could talk, I couldn’t actually laugh when I was a cat.
Anselm reached out, scratching behind my ear. I purred softly at the familiar touch.
“We should go see Grey. He might know a dark witch,” I said.
Grey was a vampire as well who was an old friend of Anselm’s. He was always into something shady. If anyone could find a dark witch, it would probably be that vampire.
“He knows one—Cassius Ruda. But Cassius will be hard to find.”
“Cassius Ruda?” I tested the name on my tongue. It wasn’t one I’d heard before. I hadn’t known that Anselm knew a dark witch. He had never brought it up before. Maybe that was just because he knew how I felt about witches.
“Hmm. He could help, but I’m loath to contact him,” Anselm said.
I raised an eyebrow. “Why?” If he could help, wasn’t that what we needed? Even if I didn’t like witches, we could use one right about now.
“Because I haven’t spoken to him since September 1666,” Anselm said, and I whistled. Sometimes it was hard to remember just how old he really was. In 1666, no one I’d known as a human existed. Yet here I was with someone who had been there during the Great Fire of London.
“Don’t tell me,” I said, knowing that dark witches had a tendency of fucking shit up.
Anselm shook his head, maybe thinking about something he hadn’t in a long time. I knew he didn’t have many friends. In fact, Grey might have been the only person he called a friend, and even then, he used the term loosely.
“If he can help—” I started to say, but the words got caught in my throat. If his friend could help us, wouldn’t it be worth putting their differences aside? It had been so long ago.
“I know. I’ll think about it,” Anselm said, and we both fell silent again. Like me, Anselm was probably thinking about our own pasts and problems and what finding a dark witch would actually mean.
Matt returned to our table while Anselm and I were lost in our thoughts. He placed the food down in front of Anselm, who only slid the plate over to me. I could see Matt smiling, clearly flirting and trying to get the vampire’s attention.
I rolled my eyes and picked up my knife and fork, cutting off a small bite and trying the food. Flavor exploded over my tongue, and I closed my eyes, enjoying the rich taste and texture of something that wasn’t bland fish or flavorless boiled chicken. I hoped my stomach didn’t protest the meal because it was probably the best thing I’d ever eaten.
“I like human food,” I said, taking bigger bites, trying to pace myself and devour my meal at the same time.
Matt finally walked away. He was either called back to his duties or maybe he was just sad that he had been ignored.
“I suppose now I have a reason to learn to cook,” Anselm said, and I looked at him.
“The Great Fire of New Synergy coming right up,” I teased around a mouthful of food.
Anselm laughed, a sound that, once again, I found my ears twitching towards.
“Shut up,” he commented, and I smiled.
I didn’t know how long this would last, but I liked it.
I wished I could hold onto it for a bit longer.
Anselm
Edmund was wrapped in my suit jacket, bundled against my chest as he slept heavily. He’d finished his dinner, yawned, and transformed suddenly, leaving a pile of clothes where his body had been. He was probably exhausted from his busy day.
I pushed the elevator button and waited. It only took a moment for it to come.
After stepping into the elevator, I pressed for my floor.
“Hold the door!” a familiar voice called. I jabbed the close button once, twice, and then went for a third time, but at the last moment, Elex Just slipped his hand between the doors, causing them to slide back open. I glared at my next-door neighbor. He smiled a happy little grin as he stepped into the small box. He smelled like wet dog. I didn’t approve and not because I hated dogs.
I liked dogs just fine. Werewolves were another story altogether.
When I’d been a boy, before I’d died and woken as a vampire, a pack had torn through my village one night. Their actions had brought my town to ruin, erased it from history, obliterated it from the map because slowly, bit by bit, the people had left, seeking a better life in another place and leaving those of us too poor or too sick or just too damn stubborn to leave to fend for ourselves.
In time, with the able-bodied gone and no one but the poor and the sick and the stupid left, my village had died out.
There was nothing left of it now save me.
It wasn’t a reason to hate Elex Just, but I did. I hated him because despite the fact he was human he’d conspired with one of them—maybe more—and I didn’t need to know his werewolf personally to know it was a filthy mutt.
“Someone looks like he wore himself out today,” Elex said.
I glanced down at Edmund. He purred softly, his little body shaking with the soft vibrations. “He’s feeling under the weather,” I lied. Or, I supposed it was true.
The Med-Witch had said he wasn’t sick, but all she could do was theorize that Charlotte was dead, which didn’t answer our questions. It didn’t reassure us that he wasn’t slowly dying—being killed by the hands of time.
“Oh, poor guy,” Elex cooed. “I hope he gets to feeling better.”
I grunted, not agreeing or disagreeing. Instead, I just wanted the elevator ride to end so I could escape the overwhelming smell of mutt.
It soaked into Elex’s pores like a cheap whore’s perfume, tainting his scent until he smelled nothing like a human and everything like the beast he rolled in the dirt with. If it were at all possible, I would vomit on his feet. There was no substance in my stomach, though. It had been days since I had eaten, and I was thankful for the fact that my stomach was empty considering the way my elevator companion’s stench permeated the air.
The elevator dinged. The doors slid open. I exhaled and rushed into the hallway. The scent of the creature Elex liked to frolic in the forest with followed me down the hall.
I fumbled for my keys, jamming them into the lock.
“It was good to see you,” Elex chattered as he stopped at his own door. “If Edmund needs anything, just let me know.” He still wore a happy smile as I pushed my door open.
“Unless you know a dark witch, you’re useless,” I assured him, stepping into my apartment and kicking the door shut behind me.
Why was he always so happy? Why was he always trying to be so fucking helpful?
“You should be nicer to Elex,” Edmund grumbled in my arms,
his voice hoarse from exhaustion.
“I don’t know why you like talking to him,” I replied, shaking my head. I held Edmund carefully as I set his clothes and bag of food down onto the hallway inn table.
Could Edmund not smell how Elex’s stench infected the very air around him?
“He’s nice,” Edmund retorted, snuggling deeper into my coat.
“He’s disgusting,” I countered, moving towards my bedroom.
Edmund would rest better in our bed. For now, since we didn’t know what was going on with him, how turning from cat to human to a cat again was affecting him, he needed as much sleep as he could get. I didn’t want him doing anything that was going to cause extra strain.
“Be nice,” Edmund hissed, his head popping out of my coat. His ears twitched as his bright eyes, almost red in the low light of my apartment, glared. He liked the human, and I wasn’t supposed to fault him for that, but I did. My neighbor and I would never be friends.
“Elex is kind,” Edmund said.
“If you’re so fond of him, maybe you can be roommates,” I retorted, unwrapping him from my coat. He jumped out of my arms and landed on the bed. He flexed his claws into my pillow and nudged it around until it was just right before he collapsed on it in a pile of exhaustion.
“Don’t be mean,” he said, yawning as he shifted for comfort.
I sat down on the edge of the bed before reaching out to run my fingers down his slender body. His tail thumped against the mattress, and he purred softly; his little body rumbled under my touch. My own exhaustion was setting in, but I needed to find a dark witch, someone besides Cassius Ruda, and ensure that my best friend—or I suppose at least one of them—lived forever as had been intended by the witch who had cursed him.
“I’m going to see if I can find someone who can help us,” I told Edmund.
It would take time to find someone who could help. I would have to slip into the underworld, reconnect with people I had been avoiding for centuries and convince them not to be assholes long enough to lend me a hand. It wasn’t going to be easy, but for Edmund, I would do just about anything.
“No way.” Edmund stumbled to his feet, swaying from side to side. He could hardly stand, but he was about to put up a fight. I supposed that was more than enough proof that even during this emotional time, he was still very much himself. “I’m coming with you.”
“You need rest,” I protested.
He could not follow me into the bowels of New Synergy, a city where supernaturals took refuge and humans pretended not to notice if they were smart. He wouldn’t be welcome in some of the places I needed to go if we were going to find help.
“I’ll rest on your shoulder,” he insisted.
I shook my head, reaching out to caress his ear.
“You’re being difficult,” I told him. Plus, it wasn’t that simple. He couldn’t just ride on my shoulder into the unknown. It was too dangerous for him to come with me for many reasons—one of them being that he could turn into a human at any moment. We still didn’t understand what brought about the change.
“What if something happens while you’re away? What am I supposed to do?” he whined, climbing into my lap and pawing at my chest. “I’m a cat.” I continued to soothe his ear. He tilted his head into the touch, his chest vibrating as he nuzzled my palm. He was trying to sway me.
“You can’t come,” I told him firmly. “If you turn into a human at the wrong moment, you could very well end up as someone’s dinner. It’s best if you stay home.” I curled my arm around his backside and hoisted him up against my chest to soften the blow of my words.
“Fine,” he huffed, his cold nose pressing into my neck. “How long will you be gone?”
“Not long,” I assured him. “I’ll go tomorrow night and should be back before sunrise.”
The sunrise would be here soon, so there wasn’t much I could do now.
“It sucks I don’t get to go,” Edmund whined, snuggling into my arms.
I sighed. He didn’t want to be home alone, pacing the floor and worrying about me. I could understand that. If our positions were reversed, I wasn’t so sure I would have given in as easily as he did, no matter how good of a point was made.
But I was far more stubborn than my friend.
“How about I ask Elex to sit with you while I’m gone?”
“I guess,” he said. His nails dug into my shirt, biting into my skin. He wasn’t happy.
“You should get some rest,” I told him. I scooped him up and pulled the blankets down before setting him in the middle of the bed. He flexed his claws in the sheets then plopped down. “We can talk more about it later,” I promised, stroking his side before pulling the blanket over his body.
I still wasn’t sure anyone, even another dark witch, could help us.
For all I knew, we could both be wasting our time.
Edmund
Hunger nagged at me, and I grumbled as I sat up.
I peered down at my hands before flexing my fingers and inspecting my fingernails; it was still so strange to be a man, to have a body after being a cat for so long.
With a deep huff, I looked to the left of me and saw that Anselm was still fast asleep.
The clock on the other side of him read that it was only noon.
I smiled and slipped out of bed, going to the bathroom so I could do something I’d wanted to do for a while. I adjusted the knobs the way I had watched Anselm do a million times, and then I stepped under the hot spray of water.
When I’d been human, before I’d been cursed, there was no such thing as a shower. If my siblings and I wanted to be clean, my mother warmed water on the stove and we all washed in the same bath. Most of the time, by the time it was my turn, the water was already filthy.
This was different. The water was clean and hot. It beat against my back and shoulders before cascading down my body and swirling into the drain.
My tail waved behind me as I washed my body like I’d seen Anselm do himself a thousand times in the past. While scrubbing, I softly hummed one of the many songs I’d heard on the radio. I enjoyed music—all kinds of music—and Anselm always played the tracks of artists we liked through the house. Singing was something I couldn’t do in my cat body, or at least I couldn’t do it very well. I liked to think I sounded a bit better now.
When I finally turned off the water, I was satisfied with my level of clean.
“Aaah!” I screamed, my back thumping against the wall as I pressed my hand over my heart. At first all I saw was the solid shadow of a person, but then as I calmed down, I saw Anselm standing on the other side of the glass shower doors. He was leaning against the bathroom door jamb, watching me. I hadn’t expected to see him up at this hour. And he was just standing there watching me.
My face heated as I pushed open the door and grabbed a towel.
“Pervert,” I muttered, my face still burning. I’d seen him shower countless times, but it felt different now that the shoe was on the other foot.
“Hello, kettle,” Anselm teased.
I laughed softly, walking towards the door, and he fell back, going into his room.
“Did you enjoy yourself?” Anselm asked.
I nodded, drying off. “It was lovely,” I admitted, towel drying my hair and ears. I could feel him watching me as I went through his drawers. I took out one of his T-shirts before pulling it over my head and letting it fall to my thighs like a dress. I had my own clothes now, but if I was just in the house, I didn’t see a reason to wear my clothes when his were available.
“I can’t fault modern convenience,” Anselm said.
“I’m hungry,” I said. It seemed like I was always hungry lately.
“Come on,” Anslem said, grasping my hand and pulling me after him.
Neither of us needed to turn on any lights. We easily found our way through the darkness created by the blackout curtains we had tightly pulled over every window or hole that sunlight could creep through during the day.
&n
bsp; Anselm moved to the fridge and took out the leftovers before putting them in the microwave as I jumped up onto the counter. My legs dangled over the side as I sat and waited for my food.
When the food was done, he passed it over, and I started to eat.
Anselm yawned, and I looked at him.
“You must be tired,” I said. It wasn’t in his nature to be up at this time of day.
“It’s okay,” Anselm said, standing with me as he watched me eat.
“We should get some more sleep after I’m finished,” I told him.
“I won’t argue,” Anselm agreed, reaching out. His fingers moved along my jaw as I chewed. His eyes danced over me, and I wondered what he was seeing.
The first few times he’d seen me as a human, he’d seemed horrified. This time he seemed to be taking in all the details he’d missed. I allowed him to look.
God knew I’d seen my fair share of Anselm over the years.
“You’re so . . .” Anselm trailed off, and I raised an eyebrow.
“Is that a good thing?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” Anselm said. His fingers moved over my neck, then trailed across my shoulder. I swallowed hard as he seemed to explore. His touch was completely innocent. If anything, it was more like a doctor learning their patient.
Still, my stomach twisted with desire, and I turned away from him.
I had to remember my place. Once we found a witch, I would be turned back into a cat. I would stay that way forever so Anselm and I could continue to exist together. It was what I wanted, to stay with him forever.
Though I would be lying if I’d said there wasn’t a part of me that wanted this body.
I shook my head to dispel those thoughts. I didn’t care if I was a human or a cat. What I cared about more than anything was staying with Anselm.
He grabbed my chin, lifting my head back up, and I gave him a soft smile.
“You look so sad,” Anselm said, and I turned away from him.
Eight Lives (Match Made In Hell Book 1) Page 4