Page 15 of How to Flirt with a Witch

“I have to go, Miss Alexander. Please understand that you’ve got the cat you were meant to have.”

“What is that supposed to—”

Beep beep beep.The call disconnects.

I gape at the phone, fury bubbling up. The jerk hung up on me!

I can’t even call her back because her number is private.

My hands are shaking. I can’t believe her. She lied about Lucy being restored to health, she lied about her contracting a curable disease, and now…

My eyes prickle, a lump forming in my throat.

No. Don’t go there.

She has to be okay. Only a monster would harm a kitten.

I tap the number for the vet’s office.

“Helping Paws, please hold,” the vet tech says in a rush.

“Wait—”

Hold music blares in my ears. I pull the phone away a few inches, continuing to pace because there’s no way I could sit still right now.

A long minute passes before she comes back. “How can I help you?”

“Hi, it’s Katie Alexander again. I have another important question for Doctor Zacharias. Can you please have her call me?” I barely refrain from referring to her as ‘that asshole.’

“I just spoke with her,” the vet tech says, sounding a little snippy, “and she told me to tell you that Lucy’s illness is resolved and there is no further reason for you to contact us.”

My face burns. She’s made it sound like I’m stalking her.

Too humiliated to argue, I swallow. “Oh. Sorry for…” I mumble something incoherent and hang up.

My room is quiet. Not-Lucy is asleep. Even the rain has ceased, leaving me in a heavy, suffocating silence.

These dead ends won’t stop me. I refuse to let the real Lucy down by giving up on her.

But ‘Doctor’ Natalie Zacharias seems to be a pro at this. Like maybe she does this sort of thing all the time. What if Lucy isn’t the only victim? Have there been other cases like hers—at other vet offices, even?

I grab my laptop, determination settling over me like armor. I’m ready to do whatever it takes to break this secret open… even if that means making a reckless plan.

Chapter 5

The Haunted Flea Market

The following Friday, Idrop my head into my hands as I finish writing my last midterm. Sighs and rustling pages fill the lecture hall, and the prof comes around to gather our exam papers.

Well, that sucked. Cold regret pulses through me as reality hits. I wasn’t as prepared as I should have been for any of the exams. But aside from trying to study for four tests at once, it’s impossible to concentrate on topics like neural structures when there are mysteries to solve. Namely, who is Natalie Zacharias and why is she so infuriating?

Between studying, I phoned a bunch of veterinarians and asked if they knew of her. Turns out, she’s on call for specific symptoms at every vet’s office from here to Abbotsford, which is far enough from Vancouver to have its own international airport. When I asked which symptoms she’s on call for, they all said they couldn’t share that information. They also wouldn’t provide me with her contact info.

Frustration burns a hole in my abdomen. No matter how deep I dig, I’m no closer to the truth—and no closer to finding the real Lucy.

A loose plan is slowly taking form. If Natalie does this sort of thing, whateverthisis, then I should track down another kitten with the same condition and bring it to a vet so they call her in.

The problem: how am I supposed to find another Lucy? Do I volunteer at the shelter and watch if any kittens start triggering strange occurrences?