Page 28 of His Infernal Purr
The bell above the door chimes, and I look up to see a nervous young man enter, carrying what appears to be a perfectly normal cat carrier. But my enhanced senses immediately detect the distinctive energy signature of a lesser fae creature inside.
“Welcome to Hughes Veterinary Clinic,” I greet him, using my more human-passing form—still tall and imposing, but with minimized horns and no visible wings. “How can we help you today?”
The young man glances around anxiously before leaning closer to the reception desk. “Um, I was told you handle… special cases? My, uh, ‘cat’ has been acting weird lately, and my regular vet couldn’t figure out what was wrong.”
I nod understandingly and lower my voice. “What kind of ‘cat’ are we actually dealing with?”
Relief floods his features at being understood. “Honestly? I’m not sure. I thought she was a regular stray when I took her in three years ago. But she sometimes turns invisible, can walk on ceilings, and recently started speaking in riddles when no one else is around.”
“Sounds like a riddling coatl,” I diagnose. “Harmless trickster fae that often disguise themselves as ordinary cats. May I?” I gesture to the carrier.
When he nods, I peer inside to see a tortoiseshell cat with unusually bright green eyes that swirl with faint spiral patterns—invisible to human sight but clear to my demonic perception.
“Definitely a riddling coatl,” I confirm. “They go through a metamorphosis every few years, which explains the newbehaviors. Dr. Hughes specializes in fae creatures. Let me check when he can see you.”
As I schedule the appointment, I reflect on how drastically my existence has changed in the months since I was first cursed into cat form. From commanding legions in Hell to managing appointment schedules and demonic pet adoptions—a transformation no less profound than my physical one.
And yet, I wouldn’t trade it for all the power in the infernal realms.
“Morax?” Finn calls from the back. “Can you help me with these vaccinations? They keep setting the exam table on fire.”
“Duty calls,” I tell the young man with the disguised fae. “Please fill out these forms while you wait.”
* * *
Later that evening, after closing the clinic and dealing with a minor hellhound-induced disaster (note: puppy-proof all brimstone containers), Finn and I retreat to our apartment—now fully renovated to accommodate my larger form, with higher ceilings, wider doorways, and a custom-built bed big enough for a demon with fully extended wings.
“Successful day,” Finn comments, collapsing onto the couch with a contented sigh. “Two regular spays, one hellhound adoption, and Mrs. Fitzgerald finally paid her bill from last month.”
“After I reminded her that payment delays have consequences,” I note, settling beside him.
“You didn’t threaten her, did you?” he asks suspiciously.
“I simply explained our payment policy in a compelling manner.”
He rolls his eyes but doesn’t press the issue. We’ve reached a comfortable compromise regarding my more intimidatingtendencies—I don’t actually threaten clients, but Finn doesn’t object when my naturally imposing presence encourages prompt payment.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” he says, sitting up straighter. “I got a call from Dr. Lieberman at the university. He wants to publish our paper on interdimensional parasites in supernatural companions.”
“With the appropriate redactions, I assume,” I note. Our research has been carefully framed as “theoretical” to avoid revealing the supernatural world to humans not ready for such knowledge.
“Of course,” Finn assures me. “But he called it ‘groundbreaking’ and wants to discuss a lecture series.”
I smile at his obvious pride. The academic recognition means much to him, even if the full truth of his discoveries must remain obscured.
“You’re revolutionizing veterinary medicine,” I observe. “Across multiple dimensions.”
He blushes slightly at the praise. “I have help. Not everyone has a demonic consultant with extensive knowledge of otherworldly creatures.”
“Partner,” I correct. “Not consultant.”
His expression softens. “Partner,” he agrees, leaning against me comfortably.
We sit in companionable silence, his heartbeat a familiar, soothing rhythm against my side. After a moment, he speaks again, his tone more serious.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said. About the possibilities.”
I know immediately what he’s referring to. We’ve had several conversations over the past months about the disparity in our lifespans and the potential solutions.
