Page 16 of Calling All Angels
Bossy, this one. Fair enough. If that would get her out of here and on to what needed doing. He followed her to the kitchen, where she spotted the plastic container of cat food lying on its side beneath the table.
The skill of materializing was one he’d managed early on and often used in his interactions with the mortal world. Blending in was simple enough, and he did it without ever drawing attention to himself. It was often useful in his job—a faculty his mentor, Marguerite, had perfected long before him. It was she who’d taught him the value of being seen. Of interacting with the mortal world when necessary. As he reached for the food, he reminded himself that Marguerite would answer for this assignment as well, putting him in the path of—
The feline banshee-like yowl struck him only a heartbeat before ten sharp talons sank into his back. He yelped as pain rifled through him. He arched with surprise, tossing the offending cat off his back, landing it in the corner of the kitchen with an almost comical scramble against the tile floor. It crouched there with a hissing growl in the corner, sending a dagger-filled stare at him as Emma dropped to her knees beside it.
“Winston! There you are! Oh, did he hurt you, baby?”
“DidIhurthim?” Connor blurted, clutching his wounded shoulder. “Aye, right!”
The little hellraiser instantly mellowed at the sight of his mistress, curious but not terrified by her new form. “You frightened him, appearing the way you did,” she accused.
“Did I? I thought ye asked me to feed the wee monster.”
“The poor thing is half scared out of his mind already with all those”—now she descended into baby talk with the cat—“awful, awful people who terrified you, didn’t they my poor, sweet little boy?”
Winston yowled loudly at him again, warning him off, and Connor glared back before undoing the top of the plastic container and tossing a handful of dry food onto the floor for him. Winston pounced on the kibble, all the while eyeing Connor with suspicion.
“I feed him in a bowl,” Emma pointed out.
“I didna think it mattered, bein’ as all the bowls themselves are already scattered t’ kingdom come.”
“Please give him a little more. A lot more. Who knows when I’ll be back?”
Connor grudgingly obliged, setting down a bowl of water, too.
“I want you to teach me how to do what we did,” she said. “Getting here. ThatStar Trekteleporting thing.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
He slapped the lid back on the cat food. “If ye need to travel, you’ll be goin’ with me.”
“Why is that fair?”
“No one said anything about fair.”
She blinked at him. “Fine. Then take me to the place where the accident happened.”
“Why?”
“I need to see it myself. I need to remember.”
“Because?”
“Don’t be belligerent.”
His jaw worked. “Why do you need to go?”
She reached out to Winston, who meowed plaintively at her. “There’s something I’m forgetting. It’s important. We’ll be back in plenty of time for the…other me to wake up. Once they pull back on the drugs, you’ll see. This was all a big mistake.” The cat stared up at her. “I’ll be back, Winston. All of me will be back soon, you’ll see. Don’t be scared.”
Unexpectedly, Winston rubbed up against Connor’s leg before he sat, curling his extravagant gray tail around himself under the kitchen chair.
“See?” she told Connor, who was exploring the painful divots in his shoulder with his free hand. “He likes you.”
“Oh, is that what this is?” he said with a snort of disbelief. “Let’s go, then, before he changes his mind again.”
“Wait.” She turned back to the living room. “First, I want to know. Why am I here?”
