Page 5 of Me and My Christmas Familiar

The cat glanced out into the dark cold. He suppressed a shiver. After a second, he decided against going back out there. He stepped further into the bakery towards the food, gaze darting around.

“See. It is not so scary, is it, kitty?” Lachlan’s cheeks stretched with the intensity of his smile. He laughed. “I should probably call you something other than kitty if you’re going to be visiting our kitchen.”

The cat began to eat the fish.

“I should give you a proper name.”

Pausing to eat, the cat glanced up at Lachlan. A name? The man wanted to give him a name. He chewed as he thought. He supposed since he’d forgotten the name his parents gave him, it would make sense to get a new one.

And it was nice to have a name. Having a name meant someone was around to use it and talk to him.

“How about Kit the kitty?” Lachlan laughed again. “I’m sorry. I know it isn’t original. I’m not really good at coming up with names. But you think you’d like that, Kit?”

Kit. He considered it, staring up at Lachlan. Why not? He resumed eating.

“I’ll take that as assent. All right. We’ll go with Kit.” Lachlan seemed pleased as he patted him again. “Kit suits you,” he said, voice soft.

Kit. He decided he liked the name.

Lachlan began to move around the stove, and soon it gave off warmth.

Had Kit lived in a place like this once? He remembered a kitchen and a stove. He remembered fire. And he remembered the sounds of his parents’ voices as they spoke.

Lachlan brought Kit more food when he finished the fish, along with more pats. He ran his hands over Kit’s back and head, scratching that delicious spot on the back of his neck.

Soon the warmth of the kitchen, his full belly, and the gentle pats lulled him. He lay out on the floor, close to the stove, watching Lachlan.

“I’m a hearth and kitchen witch.” Lachlan added bits of greenery and dried things to a cauldron on the stove. “I’m considered to be very talented. That’s why I start work before everyone else, to prepare the bakery for the day.”

A hearth and kitchen witch.

Kit didn’t think he’d ever heard of such a thing. But the world was big, and there was much he didn’t know. And there was so much he’d forgotten.

But Kit thought he must like hearth and kitchen witches if they were like Lachlan.

“I live and work with my siblings. We live upstairs.” Lachlan stirred the cauldron. “Our apartment is pretty basic. We share rooms. We all get along most of the time.” He smiled at Kit, a nice smile. “Working down here in the early mornings is the only time I ever get peace and quiet.” He paused. “Although, I’m not entirely alone anymore since you started visiting.”

Then Lachlan reached down to pat Kit. Kit closed his eyes, purring.

“You could stay with me if you wanted.”

Kit opened his eyes.

Lachlan’s hazel eyes stared down at him. “I could look after you. You could be my pet. I’d feed you, keep you warm, keep you safe. I’d like to have you as my pet. I promise I’ll be good to you. And it would be nice to not be alone.”

That did sound nice. That all sounded nice. And Lachlan really was nice. Kit pressed his face into Lachlan’s hand.

A pet. Lachlan’s pet.

No more cold streets. No more empty bellies. No more pain or fear. No more loneliness. They’d be together.

A noise sounded in the street outside. Kit jumped to his feet, gaze flinging around wildly. He looked to the door, which filled with two shadows.

CHAPTER 4

“Hey! A cat!” one of the men yelled. “It’s the cat you were telling us about, Lachy!”

“He looks a little sickly.” The other man, an exact replica of the first, frowned. “Where’s the rest of his tail?” He stepped into the bakery, big black boots thudding towards Kit.