Page 2 of A Skirl of Sorcery (The Cat Lady Chronicles #3)

Chapter

Two

Several hours later, as I made myself a late breakfast – or perhaps an early lunch – I was still pondering the conundrum of Bin the trow. Should I have dealt with him differently?

When I was a child, I’d never imagined that being an upstanding member of society who made good decisions would be so complicated.

Sometimes there wasn’t a correct road to take; sometimes there was a fork to the left and a fork to the right and nobody to advise you which one to take.

But I was only forty-two, and at some point surely I’d grow up sufficiently to make the right decisions, the decisions that proved I was a serious person with responsibilities, who cared for others and always made good choices.

I wasn’t sure that allowing a thief to continue stealing from the inhabitants of Coldstream would count as a good choice.

I opened the fridge and gazed at the contents. There were the makings of a decent salad in there, or I could eat leftover pizza. I shrugged: there was no contest. I could be a sensible adult with healthy eating habits tomorrow.

I took my plate out to the garden and settled in the deckchair next to the fence that adjoined my neighbour’s garden. On cue, Dave’s front door opened and the man himself strolled out. I could swear that he always waited until he saw me before he left his own house.

He leaned over the fence and eyed my food. ‘Cold pizza? You ought to be careful. You’re not eighteen with the constitution of an ox anymore.’

There was a loud purr of agreement from a corner of my own scrap of garden: Dave wasn’t the only one who seemed to think I needed dietary advice. He Who Crunches Bird Bones was equally disapproving.

I glared at them both. ‘In that case,’ I said pointedly, ‘I will stop bringing cake around when I do a batch of baking. Too much sugar isn’t good for you.’ I took another mouthful and turned to the cat. ‘And I’ll be sure not to give you any more treats between meals.’

He Who Crunches Bird Bones immediately stopped purring. Dave snorted loudly.

I held up the pizza. ‘There are vegetables on this. Tomatoes. Onions – and at least one whole basil leaf.’ He clicked his tongue. ‘You don’t want a slice then?’

Dave clambered over the fence with surprising ease for a druid of his girth and age and I grinned as I held out the plate. He nodded, tried not to look pleased by offering me his characteristic scowl, and took the last slice. ‘Thank you.’

He was nothing if not polite. ‘You’re welcome.

’ As he munched, he cast a critical eye around my garden.

I preened: it was looking good. The careful flicker of a few appropriate spells meant that the rose bushes were already starting to bloom, there were shades of verdant green in every direction and a pleasing number of buzzing insects.

Dave swallowed a mouthful of pizza. ‘Why don’t you have any weeds like I do?’

The ‘weeds’ on Dave’s patch of land were actually priceless silphium plants that could enhance the magic of any Preternatural being, but I wasn’t planning to tell him that unless it was absolutely necessary.

‘Because I weed,’ I told him.

Dave grunted at the bizarre vagaries of plant life and took another bite. ‘I heard,’ he said, once he’d finished chewing, ‘that Jimmy Leighton over on Sitwell Road was burgled last night.’

‘Uh-huh.’

‘If that damned thieving burglar comes around here, he’ll get a surprise.’ He curled his hands into tight fists. ‘If he tries to break into my place, I’ll show him what’s what.’

‘Uh-huh.’

‘You ought to invite that wolfie friend of yours to stay,’ he suggested. ‘It’s the full moon tonight. He’ll keep you safe, especially when he turns furry.’

There were several responses I could have made to that. I decided to settle for a quiet life and plumped for the obvious one. ‘Uh-huh.’

‘And you could clearly do with a decent leg over.’

I gave him a flat look and he grinned. ‘You know it’s true.’

Yeah, yeah. It wasn’t worth arguing about. Besides, he was right: I wanted to get my legs over Thane, and my legs between his legs. And, more to the point, his legs between mine…

We’d been dancing around the issue for weeks now but I suspected that both of us knew it was only a matter of time. Hell, even Dave knew it was only a matter of time. I decided it was a good thing I’d promised Thane I’d see him that afternoon.

‘You need a good man about the place,’ Dave went on, clearly unwilling to drop the subject.

I raised an eyebrow. ‘Just like you need a good woman?’

He looked only mildly horrified at the thought and I smirked. ‘In any case,’ I said, dusting off the last few pizza crumbs, ‘I wouldn’t worry about any more thieves. I reckon whoever was behind those burglaries has moved on to pastures new.’

Dave’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. ‘What do you know that I don’t?’

He Who Must Sleep appeared from around the corner and made a determined beeline for my lap, jumping up and curling into a tight ball before closing his eyes. ‘I’m a middle-aged cat lady who’s not getting her leg over. What on earth could I possibly know?’

I stroked the top of He Who Must Sleep’s head and smiled to myself – but I still couldn’t shake the image of the troubled trow out of my head.

I didn’t know why Thane was currently living in a swanky penthouse apartment in one of the best areas in Coldstream. He wasn’t short of a bob or two, so it was possible he owned the place, but given what else I knew about him it was equally possible that he was squatting there.

Thane never stayed in the same place for long; he moved around on an almost monthly basis, as if he were afraid of putting down roots somewhere and then being disappointed when he was forced to leave.

I suspected there would always be a scared boy inside that taut, muscular body, a boy who was afraid that he didn’t belong anywhere.

We all had our demons; some were simply more obvious than others.

Just in case he wasn’t supposed to be in residence, I avoided the concierge at the front desk and took the stairs rather than the lift to the top floor. Better safe than sorry.

‘Thanks for dropping by, Kit,’ Thane said, when he opened the front door. ‘And thanks for doing this.’ I stared at him. ‘You’ve not changed your mind, have you?’ I opened my mouth but no words came out. ‘If there’s a problem,’ he began, ‘tell me what it is.’

I gestured wordlessly towards his body. He’d clearly just stepped out of the shower, and he was topless, his chest beaded with droplets of water.

A white towel was slung around his hips.

One tug and it would pool on the floor around his feet, exposing him fully to my gaze.

My eyes caught one particular shining drop of water as it trickled down from Thane’s collarbone, creating a mesmerising trail on his faintly tanned skin.

The droplet curved around his exposed nipple before tracking lower. And lower. And lower…

Thane glanced down at himself and looked surprised. ‘Oh, I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t apologise.’ I finally managed to speak with at least a little coherence.

A slow, lazy smile lit up his face as he flexed his arms and leaned casually against the door frame. It was an open invitation to jump his bones. What the hell, I figured. Dave was right; it was about time we did this.

I took a step back, licked my lips very, very slowly, and allowed my eyes to travel all the way down his body then back up again to linger at the towel. ‘You’re very wet,’ I murmured.

His answer was instantaneous. ‘Are you?’

I drew in a breath. Come on, Kit. You like Thane. Don’t be afraid of this. ‘It’s time that you found out,’ I whispered.

Thane’s nostrils flared: he hadn’t been expecting that response. ‘This could complicate our friendship.’

Sure it could, but I’d already considered the ramifications, many times, and I knew Thane had done the same. ‘We’re both adults. We can deal with the fallout. I want sex, Thane. With you.’ Thane flushed. ‘And we both know you’ve done this deliberately.’

His blush faded away and he frowned. ‘Done what?’

‘The towel. The wet, half-naked body. You saw me coming from your window and prepared yourself for my arrival.’

He flashed me a tight, knowing grin. ‘You know me too well.’

I swallowed. ‘Not well enough. Not yet, anyway.’

His emerald eyes glittered and he extended a hand. I reached out to take it.

Then I froze.

‘What?’ he asked. ‘What’s wrong?’

I pointed wordlessly to his stomach. He glanced down and registered the large patch of thick, glossy fur that had appeared. ‘Fucking full moon,’ he muttered.

In theory there were several hours to go until Thane was supposed to transform.

Once the sun went down and the moon’s effect took force, Coldstream would be filled with baying furry hounds; by midnight, Thane would be on four furry paws and roaming through Coldstream with his tail in the air whether he wanted to or not.

But I knew that werewolves often partially transformed in the hours – and sometimes days – before the moon was full, especially when they were under a lot of stress.

Or excitement. That was why I was picking up Tiddles this morning rather than later in the day.

‘Can you control it?’ I asked.

Thane grimaced. ‘Sure.’ No sooner had the word left his mouth than more patches of fur appeared on his arms. There was a cracking sound and his face began to change shape.

I crossed my arms over my chest. ‘I’m somewhat vanilla when it comes to my preferences,’ I said.

‘No wolf?’

Definitely no wolf. I nodded.

He exhaled. ‘Me too. I guess this will have to wait for another day.’ His voice was hoarse with the effects of his semi-transformation. ‘Anticipation will only make the actual event more delicious.’

At this rate, it would be the best sex of my life given how long I’d been anticipating it. ‘I can wait if you can.’

Relief flashed in his eyes as he realised I wasn’t blowing him off. ‘I’ll fetch Tiddles.’

I made no attempt to disguise my disappointment. ‘That’s probably a good idea, then I’ll get out of your … fur.’

He huffed slightly and vanished from the doorway, reappearing a moment later with his small ginger cat in his arms.

‘Have you chosen a name for yourself yet?’ I asked her.

She stared at me unblinking so I guessed not. She was more than old enough to have sorted out her own moniker; it appeared that Tiddles was a late bloomer.

‘I think she likes being called Tiddles,’ Thane said with an air of misplaced authority,

I snorted. ‘If you say so.’ I took the cat from him. At only about seven months old, she wasn’t yet fully grown though she certainly wasn’t the tiny kitten I had first met. Quite the opposite. I suspected that when she was done growing, Tiddles would be a very large cat indeed.

I scratched between her ears and let her clamber onto my shoulder. It wasn’t particularly comfortable for me, but Tiddles seemed to like it and she’d be safe up there during the journey to Danksville. ‘Shall I drop her off again after the full moon?’ I asked.

Thane nodded, his eyes darkening with smoky, heated promise. ‘Tomorrow morning.’

I raised an eyebrow. ‘You won’t need more time to recover?’

‘No. I want you here before noon tomorrow.’ He gazed at me. ‘I need you here.’

My heart rate ratcheted up a notch. ‘Okay.’

Thane ran his tongue across his lips. ‘Give me your word, Kit.’

‘My, my. That is serious.’

‘Where you and I are concerned,’ he said, ‘I’m very serious.’

‘In that case you have my word,’ I whispered. ‘I’ll be here,’ I glanced at my watch, ‘in twenty-six hours’ time at the very latest.’

‘Good. Don’t forget about me in the meantime.’

Fat chance of that. I adjusted Tiddles slightly, nudging her to the right so that her tail wasn’t obscuring my vision. Then, still feeling somewhat deflated at the turn of events albeit excited about what was to come, I left.