Page 15 of Spookily Yours

“Don’t hiss at anyone else,” she warned me before taking off in a blur of orange and brown. The hit of her sweet scent—like coffee and vanilla and somethingelse—caught my nose.

There was something satisfying about that, just watching her. Every so often, she’d disappear from my line of sight, and then she’d return to our table, depositing another handful of books. I stayed quiet, just a few meows of acknowledgment. I couldn’t help but notice how her face lit up when she brushed her hand over my back, and the way her eyes sparkled when she rubbed that spot in between my ears.

I already hated the thought of leaving her. It was strange, the affection I felt for this human. This little witch. Despite having just met her, there was already a sense of familiarity and ease.

And not just because she was so delicate with me, even though she knew now that I wasn’t actually a cat.

Willow sat down with another pile in her hands and I perked up. “Anything good?”

“Shhh.” She looked around, her eyes widening before turning back to the book. “Don’t talk to me. It’s bad enough that I brought my cat to the library.”

“Not a cat.”

She reached over and scratched under my chin, that involuntary purr coming from my chest. Like she was proving to me I was exactly that. I’d been stuck in this form for too long.

I narrowed my eyes. “Don’t do that.”

“Then let mefocus.”Willow turned back to her pile of books, grabbing a new one out. “I’m trying to help you, after all.”

Although I hated to admit it, she was right, and I sat there and watched her work while wishing I could be more useful. I lacked any real understanding of how witchcraft functioned beyond what I learned in the demon realm. Crystals, herbs, candles, potions—that much I knew. Not how their magic worked. Not the things that might actually make a difference here.

“Did you find something?” I asked, peeking over at the book she’d buried her nose into.

She shook her head. “I don’t know yet.” Looking down at my paws, she sighed. “I’d ask you to help, but…”

“No opposable thumbs,” I agreed. “It’s probably the worst part of being stuck in this form for the last month. That and being stuck in the shelter with only that horrible kibble for food.” I scrunched up my nose, making a disgusted face. I hated that stuff.

She froze. “What?”

I cocked my head to the side.

“A month? You…” Her eyes grew wide. “Gods. Fuck. That’s… awful. I’m sorry.”

Doing my best cat-equivalent of a shrug, I curled back up on the desk, watching her read a book labeledThe Little Book of Curses and Maledictions for Everyday Use.She’d already setWitchcraft: Hexes and CursesandMagic Spells To Curse Your Enemiesto the side. There was a pile of books in her discard pile, too, with similar names, that she must have deemed useless, barely taking the time to flick through them.

Something about the names made me want to chuckle. The titles were so on the nose. What else did I expect from a town of witches?

It could have been worse,I reminded myself,if she hadn’t rescued me.

Because at least now I had a chance. My few experimentations with my magic in the shelter hadn’t proved fruitful—except for finding Willow.

Is this better?I said into her mind.

She jolted upright. “How did you—” Willow blinked. “Did you just say something?”

Yes.I kept my eyes focused on her, watching as her green eyes grew rounder.

“But… your lips didn’t move.” Her voice was a hushed whisper as she leaned down closer to my fuzzy body. “Can you hear what I’m thinking, too?”

I snorted.No.

She looked relieved that I couldn’t hear into her thoughts, and I wondered what she was hiding underneath her warm smile. What thoughts were so private that she wanted to keep them only to herself?

Besides, the only demons that had that ability were ones who had found their mates. That mind-link between a bonded pair. I wasn’t one of the lucky ones who had.

“The problem is,” she declared, slamming her book shut, “that I don’t know what curse was placed on you. And that’s crucial to the undoing of it. Which means…”

Willow took a deep breath. Stood up and paced around the table, deep in thought. The muttering under her breath only intensified as she seemed to work through whatever problem she was having.

---