Page 3

THREE

willow

G ood morning, beastie,” I murmured to the black ball of fur, who was currently sitting up, licking his front paws as he lounged on my bed.

I’d put on my orange buffalo plaid comforter when I’d decorated the house inside for fall, and he almost looked like the perfect little stuffed animal laying on it. Especially when my decorative pumpkin pillow was against the pillow shams.

Meow. It was crazy to me how even though he was a fairly quiet cat, I almost felt like I could tell what he was thinking. What he was saying, even with a simple meow. Good morning, human.

I’d slept better than I had in weeks last night. Was it because I’d known there was another being in the house? This old, creaky house could get lonely.

“I have to work today,” I said, petting him slowly. “But I won’t be gone all day—just for the morning rush—because Luna, my sister, she’ll need me. I don’t enjoy leaving her alone, you know?”

He chirped in agreement.

“I feel bad leaving you alone too, little beastie. But I’ll pick up more salmon on the way home, and then maybe we can watch another movie? Snuggle on the couch?”

Why was I narrating my entire day to the cat I’d just adopted yesterday? I couldn’t explain it, but the way he looked up at me with those gigantic eyes told me he understood, too.

Damien brushed up against my hand. Instantly, the contact centered me. Calmed me down. I’d never felt anything that gave me such an immediate sense of rightness, but I guessed that was a sign of good synastry between us.

I sighed. Time to get going. I didn’t want to leave my warm, cozy bed. Damien was basically a bed warmer with his cozy warmth keeping my feet nice and toasty.

Picking him up, I scratched under his chin before nuzzling at his face. “Who’s a cute little boy, huh?” He squirmed as I rubbed my nose against his cheek.

I laughed as he jumped out of my arms, moving to the other side of the bed to lick his paws.

Rejected from any further love, I finally forced myself out of bed. Shucking my shirt off, I whisked it into my dirty clothes hamper, the rest of my clothes following behind, and I headed to the bathroom.

Maybe after I’d had a solid few hours of work in the bakery, this strange feeling in my gut would go away.

I could only hope.

* * *

Luna’s hands were kneading a ball of cookie dough when I came into the kitchen area, unwrapping my scarf from around my neck and hanging it up on a hook.

“How was your night?” She narrowed her eyes on me.

I winced. “I’m sorry for canceling our plans. It’s just… I took your advice.”

“Looking into your future?” Luna perked up.

“No.” Snorting, I went to pull my hair back so I could help her with prep. “I went to the shelter.”

“Oh. And?”

“And… I got a cat.”

She blinked. “That soon?”

“Uh-huh.” I whipped around from the fridge, where I’d been grabbing the heavy cream to make some fresh whipped toppings for drinks. “What do you mean, that soon? You’re the one who told me to go.”

“Yeah, but I figured you’d avoid it for another few months. That’s what you always do.”

Always? I cleared my throat, dropping my eyes to the floor. “I do not.”

Luna’s voice grew quiet. “Willow. You don’t have to pretend with me. I know you didn’t pick this, either.” She indicated around us at the shop.

“But I love?—”

“I know.” She shook her head. “But that doesn’t change the way you’ve always avoided decisions: What to do after college? Selling mom and dad’s house? Building your own life?” She smiled sadly at me.

“I...” But I couldn’t exactly deny most of it. “I’m not selling the house.” Crossing my arms over my chest, I frowned. “There’s no reason to. I told you that. It’s my house now.” Our house, until she’d chosen to move out.

When did my little sister get so introspective?

“There are other houses,” she mumbled.

“I don’t want other houses, Lu. We’ve gone over this.”

“I just worry about you, all alone in that creaky old house.”

“So move back in.” I shrugged, like we hadn’t had this discussion multiple times since she’d brought up moving out and into the studio apartment above the bakery. “Besides, I’m not alone now. I have Damien.”

“Damien?” She raised an eyebrow.

“ My cat.”

“Right.”

“Luna…”

She shook her head, her bandana that was holding her hair back swishing with the movement. “I’m sorry. I overstepped.”

“No. You’re right.” Luna’s eyes shot to mine, the surprise as clear in her eyes as I figured it was on my face. “I need to figure out my life. What I want. If…” I didn’t want to say it. I loved working with my sister. “If this is it.” Maybe it wasn’t?

She nodded. “It’s okay, you know. To make your own decisions. Even if it’s not this.”

I dumped the heavy cream into the blender, along with the flavoring, busying myself so I didn’t have to meet her eyes again.

All morning, I pondered that very thought.

Because it felt like there was something out there waiting for me, and I didn’t know what it was yet.

But I wanted to find out.

* * *

The entire morning and afternoon passed by in a blur. Saturdays during October were always a hustle and bustle of activity. The crisp autumn air was filled with the sounds of laughter and chatter as most of the town was out enjoying the perfect fall weather. Practically everyone in town had made a pit stop for Luna's famous pumpkin cookies.

I couldn’t blame them. I’d snuck three over the course of the day.

Early afternoon, I took off, leaving Luna to close up. I never considered myself a morning person, but I loved getting off early. It was the one perk of going in before the sun rose.

And now, I was probably wearing my footprints into the kitchen floor, walking back and forth as I nibbled on another cookie. Luna’s words from earlier were still bouncing around my mind.

Was I always avoiding making the big decisions? Waiting for someone else to make them for me?

Damien was sitting on top of my kitchen table, staring at me, but I didn’t have the mental energy to make him get down.

“Are you going to pace like that all day?”

I blinked.

Stared at the black cat as he flicked his tail.

“What? You’ve never seen a talking cat before?”

“Willow, you’re losing your mind,” I muttered to myself. “That cat is not talking to you.”

“No, I am.” He jumped off the table, coming to sit at my feet. “But I’m not technically a cat.” He tilted his head to the side, those ears pointing up adorably.

I raised my eyebrow. “You have whiskers. And a tail.”

And now I’m talking to my cat.

“Well, I’m certainly aware that I look like a cat.” He licked one of his paws. “But I’m not. I’m just stuck.”

“Stuck?” Did he just narrow his cat-eyes at me?

I’m going crazy. That was the only logical answer to this. I’d lost it.

“Yes. I can’t shift back to my normal form.”

“And your normal form is?”

“A man. Mostly.”

“Mostly? What the hell does that mean?”

“I’m not sure you’re ready for that.” His eyes flickered red, and I could have sworn the room darkened.

Oh. “Well…” I bit my lip. “How do we get you, um… de-catted? De-catified ?” I pondered the term, and then shook my head. “Has this happened before?”

“No.” He heaved a dramatic sigh. “I was cursed. By a witch.”

Oh my gods. “A cursed talking cat? What is this, Sabrina the Teenage Witch?”

He blinked his eyes at me. “What?”

“You know… Salem? He’s cursed to be a…” I looked at his blank face. Clearly, he’d never watched human television. “Never mind.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “How do we fix it?”

“Hmm?” His voice came out scratchy, almost a purr. Which made sense. Since I was talking to a cat .

My legs wobbled, and I lowered myself to the ground, sitting on the hardwood floor. I wasn’t sure I could keep myself upright if I stayed standing. Not with the events currently unfolding in front of me.

I blinked. What was the proper response in this situation? I’d never dealt with a person-turned-cat before. Of all the weird magical things that had happened in Pleasant Grove, this topped the list.

“How do we turn you back to your proper form, then ? ”

“Now, now, little witch.” His little pink nose wiggled. “What’s so wrong with our little arrangement?”

My nostrils flared. “Our little arrangement? You mean the one where you bamboozled your way into my home, got me to feed you, and slept on my bed? That one?”

He licked his paw nonchalantly. “Yes.”

“Oh my—” Goddess be.

Slept on my bed.

“Did you see me naked?”

Damien the cat froze. “What?”

“This morning. When I changed. You were in my room, and I—” I paled, glad I was sitting on the ground. “I’m going to be sick.”

“Little witch.” He placed a paw on my arm. “I promise, I did not look.” Much, the little grin on his face seemed to say.

I rolled my eyes. “Willow.”

“What?”

“My name. It’s Willow.”

He flicked his tail. “I know.”

“Then why do you keep calling me little witch ?” I was five-six, a perfectly average height, thank you very much.

“Well, you are, aren’t you? A witch?” Damien tilted his head to the side. “Which is why you can help.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Sure, but I’m not little. I’m twenty-eight, and I’m a business owner. Even this house is mine.”

“You called me your little baby boy three times this morning.”

I cleared my throat. “I thought you were a cat.”

“As normal people do.” He purred.

“ Damien .” It felt weird addressing him like that—with his name. When it had popped into my head, I’d thought nothing of it, but now?—

“Ah, see, you already know my name, witch.” His nose twitched.

Goddess help me. You’ve truly lost your marbles, Willow.

“You’re not insane.”

“What? Did you just read my mind?” I rubbed at my temples.

“No. I can’t access my full powers in this form, unfortunately.”

“Full powers?” I raised an eyebrow.

Damien stretched his back before sitting up, like he was drawing up his full cat-height. His eyes flickered red again, and I shivered, even though there wasn’t normally a draft in here.

“What are you…?” The words came out barely above a whisper.

His black tail flicked against the floor. “I’m sorry I didn’t properly introduce myself before. I didn’t want to startle you.”

Well, you did a pretty good job of that, anyway.

“My name is Damien, though I suppose Demon Cat is also appropriate.” His ear twitched. I didn’t think I was imagining the chuckle in his voice. “I’m the bastard prince of the Demon King, and that makes me?—”

“A demon.” I paled. My mom had always warned me about demons and their trickster ways. How they’d steal your soul and condemn you to an eternity in their realm. Hell.

Which meant this cat—my cat—was from hell.

‘And never, ever, make a deal with the devil.’ She’d always warned me of that, ever since I was a little girl. I sucked in a breath. I had a feeling I’d done something a lot worse by inviting this being into my home.

“You look like you’re finally getting it now,” Damien the d emon —the cat, currently sitting next to me—said. “Now, can we get back to the important part?”

I ignored his question, still reeling in my surprise. “How did this happen to you if you’re the son of the Demon King ? Aren’t you like… super powerful?” What little I knew about demons wasn’t helping me here.

He narrowed his eyes, and the temperature dropped a few more degrees. “Say that again when I'm not in this form, and you’ll see just how powerful I am.”

But this black cat glaring at me with red eyes made me burst out laughing. “I’m sorry. I just can’t take you seriously. You’re so cute.” I booped his nose in demonstration, watching as he wiggled his whiskers.

“Willow.” His eyes narrowed into slits. “I’m serious.”

“So—” I couldn’t stop giggling. “—am I.”

He climbed up, putting one paw in the center of my chest so he could put the other one over my mouth.

“Listen to me, little witch. I need your help to reverse this damn curse so I can go back to my proper form. My life .”

I moved his paw off my face, dangling his cat-self out in front of me. “And you expect me to do this out of the goodness of my heart?”

“Well, a little, yes. But also… You have heard of making a deal with a demon, haven’t you?”

I narrowed my eyes. “Enough to know I shouldn’t make one.”

Damien sighed, flicking his tail again in annoyance. “I can give you anything you want in return for helping me. Whatever your heart desires.”

“But I—” I blinked. There wasn’t anything I needed, but what did my heart desire? It was something I’d been thinking about. Not that I was going to tell him that.

“Everybody wants something, Willow.” He licked his paw. “Even good little witches like you.”

Ignoring his comment, and how it made me feel, I frowned. “So, how do I turn you back? Is it some spell, or potion I need to make, or…”

His eyes focused on mine. Unblinking. “I don’t know. If I did, don’t you think I would have undone it myself by now?”

Oh. Well. I guessed that would make sense.

“Yeah.” I muttered under my breath. “But I have little experience with curses. None of the witches here would ever use them. They’re banned in the community. Our coven hardly even discusses them, even though I think Cait would love to hex her ex-boyfriend for good measure. Although…”

My thoughts wandered to the library my parents had spent years amassing. I’d read so many of them, but maybe there was something in there that would tell me how I could break this curse.

“Maybe I have an idea.”

I didn’t need anything from him, but the sooner I could get him out of my house, out of my life, the better. Because Demons were not to be trifled with.