Witch Risen: A Paranormal Adventure (Bad Tom Series Book 2) (5 page)

There's no way for Cat to get in, that's clear soon enough. I prowl to the back while I think about the best approach to the problem. I don't have tools, and if I shift, I'll be exposed, vulnerable. I'll also be locked outside in the buff.

I could go wake up Gillian to help with the locks, but I'm so close now. I don't need her trying to talk me out of it.

Unless Eunice has changed things since she returned, there's no alarm in the shop, only the video cameras to deter shoplifters. No one who lives in this town would have risked her ire by breaking in.

I shift myself, trying not to make a sound as I experience the pain that always accompanies my transformation. Then, when I'm able, I pick up that troublesome landscape rock and pitch it at the side parlor window. It shatters on the first try. I shift back to cat and leap through gracefully, careful to jump out beyond where the shards of glass are strewn.

I thought I'd leapt far enough, but a sharp pain in my left front paw tells me I misjudged. I raise the throbbing paw to take a look. A piece of the window glass pierced Cat's left front paw as it met the floor. The cut is deep and dangerous. Cat can see no reds, but the gray blood flows freely. He's in trouble.

I move a few steps farther into the house to make sure I really am out of the danger zone this time and shift again. A third shift in such a small period of time is agony, and I take longer to recover than normal. I'm completely defenseless while I try to get control over my human limbs but flail helplessly instead as the pain and the lingering sensations of Cat fade too slowly.

My heart races out of control. If Eunice walks in, it's all over.

I'm freaking out. I'm freaking out. I'm freaking out.

Cat's injury won't harm him until I shift to his form again, but he'll need medical attention immediately then, or he's done for.

I take a huge breath and blow it back out. Calmer. But still panicked.

I take another breath. And another. And another.

I have to put my fear aside and focus on one thing: Eunice has Cassie. And she's not keeping her. Not even if Cat loses his last two lives. Not even if I lose mine.

I have to get what I'm looking for and get out before anyone notices that broken window. Then I've got to get from downtown to the ritzy section of Giles where Mayor Robert lives without being stopped for indecent exposure.

Looks like I'm not going to need the pouch I put on my collar for the ID. I'm going to have to take some of my clothes from the house so I can get across town as a human, and if I do, Eunice could discover that they're gone and wonder why. That's a lot of "ifs", though. First, she would have had to go through Cassie's closets and found my stuff there. And once I take them, she'll have to go through them again to find out that they're gone.

There's a chance she'll never know. A big chance.

Really? Who am I kidding? Eunice notices everything.

No, maybe not. Gillian bought me some new, modern clothes that my former mistress has never seen. If I only take some of those, even if she did notice them, she might not realize they've disappeared or even that they belonged to me. She'd miss one of my dashikis, but she wouldn't miss a plain v-neck t-shirt. I work to make my panic subside. I need my brain back.

I find my wallet in the back pocket of my pants as I slide into them. That's a stroke of luck. I hope it means Eunice didn't find it.

Once I'm dressed, I creep quietly up the stairs, although I don't know why I feel the need for silence. There's no one here, and if there was, silence wouldn't help me. Even with Nat's cloaking spell, I'm terrified Eunice will sense me.

But she's not here. She's not here. Say it, rinse, repeat.

She's not here.

Big breath. Let it go slowly. And then one more. Continue up the stairs like a man.
You can do this for Cassie.

I stop on the stairs before I enter the attic. The tension weighs me down. I keep flashing to the image of Cassie standing there, reading the words on the lid of the box…and then…Eunice laughing at me from Cassie's face with a promise of pain.

It's pitch black up here and smells like dust and abandonment. I grope for the string of the bulb to the left of the door. I feel like Cat, batting at invisible combatants in a beam of sunlight.

Then I find the string and tug.

Light fills the dark corners of the room. My adrenalin levels start to drop.

I walk to where Cassie found the box. There's nothing here now except a clean rectangle in the dust, a place that had been covered and now is not. Eunice moved it. But where could it be?

I open every trunk, every box of old-lady junk, careful to memorize the location of each item so that I can return it to its exact place when I'm done. I can't have Eunice knowing I've been here if I don't find what I've come for. I'd never get back in the house for a second look.

After a half hour or so, I run out of patience. It's not in the attic. I've explored every inch.

A thud, followed by the sound of footsteps downstairs, turns my frustration to fear.

I'm paralyzed, visualizing Eunice coming up the stairs, visualizing her preventing me from shifting myself and trapping me forever as Cat, forever separate from Cassie. Not to mention bleeding out from Cat's injury while she capers around doing a victory dance.

It's not Eunice. It can't be her. I listen for more clues.

It's a male voice—no, two male voices. I hear a riser creak as at least one of them starts up the stairs to the second floor. Then another follows.

A whisper. "It's clear." It sounds official. Sounds like the fuzz.

At least it's not Eunice. Not that I can let them find me. I'm not afraid of them—I have a right to be in this house, assuming Eunice hasn't told anyone that Cassie's new boyfriend has moved out. And with Robert's help, after what may have been unnecessary blackmail, I've got government-issued ID, too.

Still, I don't want anyone mentioning to Eunice that I was here. And how do I explain the broken window?

I strip and throw my clothes and tennis shoes behind a box, then lay on my side until I hear the officers stopping at the open door to the attic stairs. I leave the light on because turning it off now will only alert them that someone must be up here.

I think
bad Tom
, and by the time the cop's head pops over the top of the landing, following the barrel of his pistol, the only living thing that greets him is a sleeping cat. He comes all the way up the stairs, probably wondering what that light's doing on in an otherwise dark house. I pretend to wake, and he bends over to scratch beneath my chin when I give him Cat's friendly stare.

"Nobody up here but the cat. Whoever broke the window is long gone. Maybe it wasn't even a break-in. I'll get my brother-in-law out to board it up and we can sort it out with the owner when she surfaces."

When he leaves, I bring Cat's damaged paw out from underneath me where I'd kept it hidden, and the floor and my fur are slick with his blood.

I feel woozy. They're still downstairs when I shift again, but I can't wait for them to leave. Cat is losing blood way too fast. He's on his seventh life now. He's only got the two lives left, and Eunice always made it clear to me that when his last life is used up, my one life goes with it. I'm not going to waste any more of the time I have left.

I breathe a sigh of relief when they're gone, but I can't linger and search the rest of the house now. They've got someone on the way to board up the window, and I can't be here when he arrives.

Once I'm clothed, and I've mopped up every bit of Cat's blood from the attic and shoved the paper towels I used into a pocket, I get all the way to the back door before I remember the perfect thing to get me back to Robert's without being detected by the cops. I can hear them talking through the broken window, probably keeping an eye on things from outside while waiting for the brother-in-law to arrive. I may have learned a lot about stealth from Cat, but it's a lot easier for a Cat to go undetected than it is for an over-six-foot guy.

I hurry back upstairs and reach under my bed for what looks like an empty paper bag and put on Kevin's invisibility suit by feel, pulling the flap on the hood down over my face after I find it by exploring along the top of the hood with my fingers. It's filmy, but I can see out fine. I rush downstairs, dash through the back door, and make sure to lock it up on my way out.

I slip out the back and head home without fear of being spotted by the watchful eye of the police.

But heading back undetected isn't much consolation: I didn't find anything. I failed Cassie again.

Robert sets a cup of hot tea in front of me and takes the opposite seat at the kitchen table. Goddess knows what's in this batch of his herbal brew. It smells like a stink bug. "I'm sorry to hear you weren't successful, Tom. But why didn't you let any of us know?" He pushes the cream and sugar over on its tray. I don't think it's going to help. "If something happens to you, it won't help Cassie."

"I didn't want Gillian talking me out of it, and I know her well enough to know she would have. It's that simple." I would have preferred to regale him in the morning, but I don't have a key, and I couldn't slip in through the gap in the window without risking Cat's health. I didn't have a choice. I had to make a ruckus at the back door until I woke him up.

"Understood. But just let me in on it next time. Maybe I can help." His head moves slightly, and the light from the lamp over the table glints off his bald scalp. "Can Cat heal on his own?"

"No, when one of us is active, it's like the other one of us goes into that suspended animation all the science fiction books used to talk about. It's why I didn't age much over the years. My body was in storage a lot." I can see Robert's thinking about that, taking it in. Maybe wishing he'd had a similar arrangement for his hair. "But Cat's in storage with an injury that's going to kill him fast after he comes to if nothing gets the bleeding stopped."

"I'll get a call in to Darrin in the morning, then. You remember him? I believe he was with the choir when they gathered to free you from the shop? He's a veterinarian, which seems appropriate, as well as a fine healer on the magical side of things."

Nat must have filled him in on my recent history because no way did we ask Robert to join in on that particular ritual—I still believed he was an enemy back then. I'm not convinced he should be getting the "all clear" from me even now, but he's the coven's high priest, and Nat is the high priestess. I expect she felt she had to bring him up to speed on everything that's been going on. They spent years disliking each other, so it's odd to see them working together so well and being so friendly. It must be Cassie's influence. She does good things to people. Did good things. Oh hell, will do good things again. Guaranteed.

I'm glad Cat's going to be looked after, but it doesn't make me feel any better that I failed to get the box. The very fact that Eunice has hidden it makes me feel sure it's the key to freeing Cassie. I need to get back in there before she comes back. Once Cat's sorted, nothing's going to stop me.

The next morning, Darrin works fast and efficiently. As soon as Cat's body stops juddering through the shift, he's at the paw with a hypodermic, apologizing for only being able to give a tiny amount of anesthetic due to Cat's size, and has it stitched up lickety-split, stanching the flow. Despite the painkiller, there's plenty sting while he sews.

Afterward, Cat still feels weak, but he's no longer in danger.

The doc deftly grinds the ingredients for a poultice and pours the fine powder out of the mortar over two large snakeweed leaves. Then, he arranges the whole mess on a gauze bandage and wraps Cat's foot up tight with it.

He holds his hands to his heart as he chants softly. "Wrapped in cotton, bound with care, grant this healing, and suffering forbear." Short and sweet, just the way I like my healing chants.

When he moves his hands from his heart to Cat's injury, his energy stops the rest of the pain completely. I allow Cat to get up, but he gently pushes me back down.

"The wound is going to heal quickly, but not that quickly. You need to stay off that foot for 24 hours and be careful of it for several days."