Page 77 of Witch Please

And you’re doing it again. Dial it down. This isn’t the end of the world. You’ve been here before. It’s not the first time or even the worst.

Maybe it would be the last, however, because he didn’t see how he could muster the optimism ever to try again. Even when it felt perfect, wholly right, it wasn’t.

Some people were bachelor uncles from birth. Titus could live for his extended family, maybe have nieces and nephews one day, be good to a series of dogs and give back to the community. He could be a volunteer firefighter for years; maybe he’d join the Rotary Club too. And when he died, a bunch of strangers would be sad at losing such a useful—

Fuck this. Fuck it all the way down.

Chapter 23

“What doyouthink I should do to move on?” Danica asked Goliath.

I’m asking a cat for advice.

It was a low point, admittedly. Sure, Danica was doing better than she had been, but improvements were relative. She might not be drinking until she barfed, but the world was grimly monochrome, like the moment she hurt Titus, all the color leached out of her world. Clem had been unbelievably generous and given her a day off despite how much she’d slacked recently.

Maybe I should’ve gone to work. I have too much time to think.

The ginger cat circled her ankles and mewed, whiskered face uplifted in perpetual hope. Today was his day, however; she was in the mood to torture herself. Stooping, she scooped the cat into her arms and settled in the porch swing with him purring like mad and rubbing all over her. Soon, the watery eyes and sneezing would start. Maybe she’d even break out in a rash. She petted the damn cat like he’d always dreamed she would, rubbing his head, between his ears, stroking down his spine, and scratching his butt. Goliath purred until he fell over, then he waved all four paws, twisting wildly on his back.

Danica let him.

By the time Clem got home, Danica’s eyes were nearly swollen shut, and she had some nice welts going. Goliath was in heaven, though.

“What the hell are you doing?” her cousin demanded, pulling the purring ginger furball out of her arms.

“Punishing myself and making this cat’s day?”

“Cut it out! It will take you days to recover from this. I’m taking the cat home, and then you’re going with me to the clinic to get a shot.”

“Just call Kerry or Priya. They can take care of it.” That was the benefit of being attuned to vivimancy.

Clem leaned in, lowering her voice. “This doesn’t require magic. Modern medicine will do the job, and you know damn well it’s safer, especially now. Gavin was asking me about our last name, and I think I played it off. But he mentioned the shop too. One is a coincidence, two is suspicious, and three—”

“Is a pattern,” Danica finished. “Fine, I’ll put compresses on my eyes and be ready to go when you get back.”

“I’ve had about enough of this self-imposed penance. The only reason I’m not yelling more is… Well, you’ll see when you look in the mirror.”

Goliath cried and stretched out a white-tipped paw as Clem carried him off, reaching for Danica like they were Romeo and Juliet, separated by feuding Venetian families. With a crooked smile, crooked because her face was swollen, she soaked a cloth in cold water and winced when she saw how scary she looked. If someone claimed she was the first wave of a terrifying outbreak, anyone would believe it.

The cold pack helped a little. An allergy shot would help more. She was waiting as promised when Clem returned. Her cousin grabbed the keys and drove to the clinic without saying a word. Things weren’t exactly…right between them, but Danica didn’t have the energy for the kind of fight it would take to clear the air. Mostly she appreciated how present Clem always was, no matter what mess Danica had made.

“Sisters for life,” she said aloud. More than once, they’d chanted it drunkenly, affirmed it when they’d sobered up.

Clem glanced over, and her set jaw softened a little as she did the call back. “Sisters for life.”

She let out a long breath. “Thanks for always being there, even when I act like a dumbass.”

“I admit, you’ve been a challenge lately,” Clem muttered.

“Hey…”

“Yeah?”

“You called the hunter ‘Gavin’ before.”

Her cousin slid her an unreadable look. “What? That’s his name.”

“It’s not so much what you said as how you said it.”

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