Page 6 of His Infernal Purr
“Yes,” I confirm, folding my wings more comfortably against my back. “And you talked in your sleep. Quite a lot, actually.Something about a ‘Professor Higgins’ and ‘don’t take the spatula’?”
Finn covers his face with his hands and groans. “This can’t be happening.”
I consider him thoughtfully. Despite his current distress, this human had just faced down three lesser demons to protect me. Without any weapons or powers. Just… courage and that stubborn compassion of his.
No one has ever defended me like that before.
“Your intervention was… unexpected,” I admit, my voice softer than I intended. “Those were Valefar’s minions, sent to ensure I remained trapped. You could have been killed.”
Finn slowly lowers his hands, studying me with newfound curiosity. “So that weird cat really was you? With the tiny horns and the wings that didn’t work?”
“A humiliating approximation of my true form, yes.”
“And those men were… demons?”
I nod. “Lesser ones. Barely worth acknowledging.”
Finn takes another deep breath, then does something I don’t expect. He starts to laugh. It begins as a chuckle, then grows until he’s doubled over, gasping for air.
“I’ve lost my mind,” he wheezes. “Completely lost it. I’ve been working too hard. This is a stress hallucination.”
“I assure you, I’m quite real,” I reply, mildly offended.
“I fed you premium cat food! I bought you a cat bed shaped like a PUMPKIN!”
“Which was DEEPLY undignified,” I growl.
“I took you to work every day! I gave you BELLY RUBS!”
At this, I feel my face grow warm—an unusual sensation for a being of my infernal nature. “Yes, well… I allowed those indignities only to maintain my cover.”
Finn wipes tears of laughter from his eyes. “You PURRED!”
“I did NO such thing!” I protest, perhaps too forcefully. “That was… strategic noise-making to lower your guard.”
His laughter subsides as a new thought seems to occur to him. “Wait, are you… the cat is… did I just lose my pet?”
The plaintive note in his voice catches me off guard. Is he actually… sad about this development?
“You never had a pet,” I clarify. “You had a Duke of Hell temporarily inconvenienced by a curse, which you just broke through your ridiculous, reckless act of selfless protection.”
Finn slowly gets to his feet, keeping the coffee table between us. “So those men—demons—whatever they were… they’re gone?”
“For now. Valefar won’t be pleased they failed.”
“And you’re… free now? The curse is broken?”
I stretch my wings to their full impressive span, nearly touching both walls of his modest living room. “Indeed. Thanks to you.”
“So you’ll… go back to Hell now?” There’s that same note in his voice again, almost like… disappointment?
I open my mouth to confirm that yes, obviously I’ll return to my rightful place, to my thirty legions and my position of power. But something stops me. Perhaps it’s the memory of Finn facing down demons for me. Or the way he’d carefully tended my injured wing just moments ago, not knowing I was about to transform.
Or maybe it’s the memory of falling asleep to the sound of his heartbeat for fourteen nights in a row.
“I…” For the first time in several millennia, I find myself uncertain. “I should express my… gratitude before departing.”
Finn runs a hand through his already messy hair. “I mean, you could just say thank you. No need to make it weird.”
