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damien

T he collar jingled around my neck that the damned humans had snapped on me.

Didn’t they know I wasn’t a cat?

I mean, I looked like a cat in my current form, sure .

But that was because I was stuck like this. It certainly wasn’t by choice. All thanks to one godsforsaken night.

A month. I’d been stuck in this shape for a month, and what did I have to show for it? A collar and practically permanent residency at this shelter.

I didn’t belong in a shelter, for crying out loud. Sure, I could escape, but that didn’t solve my current predicament.

If only I had my magic, I’d have figured a way out of this mess.

But no. They had confined me to a cage, which forced me to stare at my reflection, wishing I could get out of this damn form. To make matters worse, they’d given me a name. And not one that was benefiting of my caliber. No.

I preferred when they called me Demon Cat to anything else. At least that one was accurate.

But this human… I’d sensed her.

Something about her scent drew me towards her, and I hadn’t even needed to suppress the cat-like urges that grew stronger by the day.

She’d looked into my eyes, and a part of me knew I could trust her.

And maybe… she could help me.

That was why I’d practically crawled into her lap. Why I let her take me.

“What do you think?” The human mumbled, carrying me into her house. “I know it’s not in the best of shape, but… it’s home.”

The outside of the old Victorian mansion was just like I would have imagined it, down to the broom that rested against the siding.

And the inside was warm . It was clearly a home. A family’s home.

But where was her family? The human didn’t seem to have anyone else living with her, and I didn’t detect the traces of anyone else. Maybe a faint smell of another human—female, and then some older ones, but nothing else.

It’s nice. I thought. Better than any home I’ve ever had. But I couldn’t say that.

She’d carried me into the kitchen, setting me onto the floor as she rustled through the fridge, clearly frowning at its contents.

“What do you think, little beastie? Do you want some water? I need to go to the store to get some things…” She bit her lip. “I didn’t exactly expect this to happen today.” She sighed, her cheeks turning slightly pink as she continued mumbling to herself.

Oh. That was cute.

I cocked my head, staring at her with fervent attention as she filled a bowl with water.

She stopped, staring back at me. “Will you be okay while I go?”

Crouching down to place the water bowl on the floor, she rubbed between my ears, and an involuntary purr emitted from my throat.

That was… new.

I’d never really had the occasion to let humans pet me when I was in this form before. It surprised me how much I liked it when she did it.

I meowed in response. I hoped that it communicated, I’ll be fine, human.

But what did I know?

The human stood up, brushing off her orange skirt—cat hair I’d left behind, I was sure—and then nodded at me.

“Okay, boy. I’ll be back. Be good and don’t get into anything.” She winced, looking around the room. “I’ll have to clean up when I get back. Geez.”

I flicked my ears back in amusement as the human talked to herself.

“Gods, Willow,” she muttered to herself. Willow. I liked that. “You have got to stop talking to the cat like he’s going to respond.”

If only she knew.

Heading to the door, the human—Willow, I corrected myself—picked up her phone, hitting a contact before putting it to her ear.

“Yeah, Luna?” she said into the speaker. “I’m going to need a raincheck for tonight…” She winced. “I know. I’m sorry—” And then she was out the door, leaving me all alone to explore my new home.

Flicking my tail, I walked across the human’s hardwood floors. I figured if I was stuck here till I figured out how to reverse this damned curse, I might as well get my lay of the land.

What’s this? My nose caught a scent and I couldn’t help but follow it.

What was that delicious scent? My mouth watered, and I knew it was the feline side of me that had been dominant for too long. That was what guided me through the rooms of the house, searching for the location of the wafting smell.

Pushing open the cracked door, I padded into a room, stopping suddenly as all of my senses were overwhelmed by her. Willow. Her scent was all over this room, and I realized with a jolt exactly where I’d entered a moment later. Bedroom.

Darting out of the room, I dashed to the other end of the house—peeking my head into what looked like a library. There was an empty bedroom with lilac walls, and then—there was the source of the twitching to my nose.

It smelled like catnip, rosemary, marigolds—the things my cat side loved.

The room itself seemed to be some large storage room, though everything had its place. The back wall was covered in bookshelves, filled with a whole myriad of supplies: essential oils, crystals, plants, herbs, dried flowers, candles, incense and books.

Jumping on the table in the center, I surveyed the crystal ball, a grimoire laying open, plus a stack of books, and more candles that littered the table.

It suddenly occurred to me what exactly she used this room for.

Witch.

And then a thought ran through my mind.

This female—she could fix me. She could end this damned curse and turn me back into my proper form.

Maybe luck was on my side when they brought me to the animal shelter here. I’d certainly never have expected to end up in a town with a coven of witches.

Fates.

I needed this undone.

But how…?

* * *

She was back, with a bag of cat toys and treats at her side.

“Here, kitty,” the brunette girl cooed, shaking a bag of treats. I sat on the floor in front of her as she held the bag.

Internally, I rolled my eyes, flicking my tail to show my irritation.

“Come on,” she said, sighing. “They’re good. At least, I think.” Willow looked in the bag, as if questioning it now.

Sniffing it, I scrunched up my nose. It was bad enough that I’d had to eat whatever the shelter gave me for the last few weeks. I’d barely survived on the scraps except for when I dared to sneak out.

But this? No. I couldn’t bring myself so low.

I wasn’t a cat, dammit.

Willow frowned. “Do you not like treats?” The expression gave her worry lines on her brows, and I instantly wanted to smooth them out.

Why, Damien? Why was that the thought that had popped into my mind?

I jumped to my feet, padding over in search of real food. Something palatable that I’d actually be able to stomach. Not dry kibble or whatever they put in those cat treats everyone tried to feed me.

“Where are you going, little beastie?” The witch murmured, following me as I sauntered through the living room into the kitchen.

Planting myself in front of the fridge, I meowed.

Opening the doors, she looked at the contents. “What do you want, hm? Tuna?” She pulled out a can.

I flicked my ears back in disgust. No, thank you. I’d never been a huge fan.

“Hmm.” She diverted her attention back to the drawer, bringing out a fresh cut of salmon. “What about this?”

Meow. I brushed up against her legs in approval.

She chuckled to herself. “Picky cat, huh?”

My little witch had no idea.

Willow sighed. “Guess I’m making you dinner, then. I don’t think raw salmon is good for cats.”

I gave her a chirp of confirmation before curling up in the corner, letting my head rest on my front paws as I watched her cook. She was a natural in the kitchen, which made me wonder about the potions room I’d seen. Despite how easy it would be for disarray, the entire room was meticulous, organized—like everything had its place.

I had a feeling she was equally skilled with whatever concoction she was brewing.

And now I had to brew my plan—one to get her to help me.

How not to startle her when I revealed my true identity.

There was something nagging in my gut— what was it? The feeling settled within me, though I couldn’t identify it.

“Here you go, beastie,” she said, placing a plate at my paws.

My nose twitched as she stared at me, her eyes darting between the cooked salmon and me. Are you going to watch me eat, little witch?

Apparently she was. I sniffed the cooked fish, and after deeming it smelled good—she’d grilled it perfectly. I took a bite.

Oh, Hell. I gobbled up the entire piece of fish, tearing through the entire fillet faster than I could blink.

Willow scratched under my chin. “You were hungry. Poor little guy, huh? I still have to figure out what to call you.”

Demon Cat is fine, I thought, sitting up to stare at her.

She snorted, not breaking eye contact. “I still can’t believe they called you a demon cat. You’re such a sweet little boy, aren’t you?” My witch scratched under my chin, and I let out an involuntary purr.

Damien, I thought, hoping whatever bond she seemed to feel between us would communicate that. My name is Damien.

I’d never willingly given my name to a human before, but… I didn’t think I minded her knowing it.

Didn’t mind being here, even if they’d trapped me in this feline body.

Willow’s lips tilted up into a smile. “Damien?”

Yes! I meowed excitedly, brushing back and forth against her legs, nuzzling my head against her skin.

“Damien. I like it, too.” She scooped me up into her arms, cradling me like a baby. “What do you say we go sit on the couch and watch a movie, huh, beastie? There’s so many good ones for the Halloween season.”

Meow.

Yes.

Domesticity was never a part of my life before. I’d never really had the chance to just sit and be. There had always been something else for me to do, something my brother needed from me. I was never my own person.

But maybe here, in this town, at this witch’s house, everything would be different.

So I let her carry me to the couch. Curled up on her lap, and watched a couple fall in love while they rebuilt an old bed-and-breakfast. Snorted when they were clearly too stupid to admit their own feelings. Watched with rapt attention, until the warmth of the little witch’s lap lulled me to sleep. I’d never felt so comforted, so at peace.

Maybe life as a cat wasn’t so bad. That was the thought that startled me awake.

I couldn’t afford to think like this. I didn’t know what was wrong with me, but I had to get out of this body—before the change was permanent. If there was even a chance I had to remain as a cat forever, I needed to do everything I could to fix it.

Willow stood up and yawned, stretching out her arms before turning back to me.

I tried to push the nagging feeling aside and remind myself that it could wait until tomorrow.

Curiously, I angled my head and perked my ear up towards her. Did she expect me to sleep in her room? That felt like a line I shouldn’t cross. Especially considering I wasn’t actually a cat.

And I’d have to break the news to her, eventually. That I wouldn’t be her cat. That I wasn’t a cat at all.

But when she looked at me, tucking her hair behind her ear as I peered at her from the couch, I could sense how vulnerable she was. How alone this little witch was.

And I didn’t want her to feel like that.

“Should we go to bed now, Damien?”

Meow. I got up, stretching my back, and hopped off the couch, following her loyally.

Witch’s best friend, I thought with a smirk.

Despite my upbringing not to consort with witches, this woman had done everything she could to make me happy. Comfortable.

Even if I was just her cat.

I curled up at the witch’s feet, and for the first night in weeks, I slept.