Page 19 of Where Exorcists Cannot Lie

Many a sage in the Magical field considered cats distant cousins to the demonic. Anyone who ever witnessed the blissful satisfaction of a kitty knocking shit off a table or a shelf had to concur. No wonder the little furry bastard chose Inuel.

“Oh, well.” The triumph saturating Inuel’s inflexion spoke for itself. He began stroking the tabby, whose tiny body didn’t even exceed the size of his hand, his countenance the picture of serenity. Inuel relaxed further into the backrest, lowering his eyelids and humming a cheery tune, appearing absorbed in the moment.

The kitten’s purring drowned out the crackling of the fireplace.

I allowed myself to observe the adorable scene for a time. I couldn’t resist a smile and an eye roll, both. It was just such a cliché—spiritual cats and demons tended to be drawn to each other’s lifeforce. I could swear I’d seen a similar image in The Great Lexicon of Elder Races in the library of the Magical Academy during my studies.

Finally, I could not take it anymore. I cleared my throat. “What are you doing?”

Inuel’s steely eyes bored into me. “What do you mean? I’m providing this fluff ball with a spot for a snooze,” he said as if pointing out the obvious.

“Snooze,” I repeated, a swirl of dark emotion rising in my chest. “Inuel, this is clearly a mogõ. A mogõ kitten.”

“I understand it’s a mogõ kitten, Taz.” Inuel frowned, his fingers buried in the little fellow’s long fur.

I waved my hand and sat up straighter. For reasons I couldn’t quite comprehend, I started to get upset. “So, you need to take this seriously. You’re bonding with it. It’s a responsibility. A mogõ is a com-mit-ment.” I emphasised the lengths of the vowels. “Do you know the meaning of this word?”

Inuel stilled. “Yes, Taz. I know what a commitment is,” he said.

“Pff. Ridiculous. You can’t bond with a spiritual animal on a whim only to desert it later. That’s not on. It will die, and you’ll hurt your aura.”

“Who said I would desert it later?” Inuel features tightened.

“It’s a logical assumption based on my previous experience.” I snorted again, but this time, it sounded harsh and derisive. I couldn’t say what had flown under my cloak all of a sudden. It felt like something I’d been harbouring for a while had grown tired of being bottled up, and it wanted out.

“Is that what you think of me?” Inuel’s tone remained mellow throughout our exchange, but that same display of hurt I’d observed on a couple of previous occasions filled his eyes.

I lifted my chin and huffed but didn’t comment.

Inuel resumed petting the mogõ. “Well, I guess I deserved that. And you’re well within your right to hold such an opinion.” He held my gaze. “But let me tell you something. This little thing has chosen me today, and whatever happens, I intend to look after it. And since I’m not wheezing in pain, you know I’m being sincere.”

It took a heap of self-restraint not to yell, “I know of another little thing who chose you. Yet that never stopped you from not giving a shit and fucking off.” Instead, I said, “Well, good. Brilliant. I’m glad. And now I’m going to bed.” I stood and stomped off.

I considered going into my own long-abandoned room at first but decided against that. Regardless of the huff I’d got myself into, I didn’t really want to spend the night deprived of Inuel’s arms around me. Not so close to our departure.

Half-sitting, half-lying on a pillow that rested against the headrest of our bed, I focused on the pleasant, warm light filtering from the lamp, not quite meditating but aiming at lowering my heart rate and relaxing my muscles. After a while, I started to feel a wee bit embarrassed about leaving in a strop like that.

Inuel—bare-chested—turned up at the door half an hour later, holding the round wicker basket we used to store apples. The mogõ nested inside, curled up on Inuel’s shirt, fast asleep and snug.

“Is it safe to come in?” Inuel asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“What, are you scared?” I sneered. “A fellow twice my size?”

“I sure am.” Inuel approached the bed and perched on the edge of the mattress, placing the kitten between us like a peace offering. “You’re pretty damn scary when you’re pissed off, Taz. Glowering at me as if you wanted to blast me with the Ultimate Rite any moment. Gave me shivers and all.”

“Hm.” I didn’t quite know what to do with that. “I’m sure you got over it pretty quickly.”

Inuel gave a little laugh and pointed at the basket. “So, I’ve checked. It’s a boy.”

He was spot-on if he thought that showing off his new spiritual cat would succeed in disarming me further.

“Congratulations,” I drawled, but couldn’t resist having a closer look at the sleeping mogõ. Poor thing, crossing the barrier and initiating the bonding must’ve exhausted him. I stroked the soft tuft of fur between his ears. “He’s cute, all right.”

“Why, thank you.” Something akin to pride rang in Inuel’s voice as though he fancied himself the creator of all mogõs, deserving credit for their design. “I’ve decided to call him Tazzik.”

“Tiny Taz?” I scoffed.

“What?” Inuel’s mouth twitched. “Look, he takes after you. Silky to the touch. Adorable little face. Sharp claws that can draw blood if need be. Green eyes. Grey fur…well, fine. That would be grey robes in your case. All in all, a striking resemblance.”

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