Familiar Territory

by Sam Cheever

  I usually didn’t manage the feat as well as I would have liked. But I never stopped trying.

  Persistence was yet another inherited trait I couldn’t seem to deny.

  Soft music played in the elevator as it shot to the top floor of the twenty-story building. Though my grandmother owned the building and the business that built it, Familiar, Inc. was housed on only the 18th and 19th floors. My grandmother and mother lived in the two apartments that made up the 20th.

  I got off on the 19th floor and waved at the receptionist. “She’s expecting me.”

  “Yes. Go on in, LA.” The woman cocked a perfect dark gold eyebrow. “Good luck.”

  I would have liked to ask her what she was talking about but my grandmama’s assistant chose that moment to poke his slick, black head out of her office. As usual, they’d felt my arrival in the area.

  Damn the web.

  “How are you, LA?” Jacob Withers asked. He pulled the door wide to usher me inside. “We haven’t seen you around here for a while.”

  I didn’t miss the subtle dig but chose to ignore it. “I’m good. Busy as usual.”

  He frowned a bit when I didn’t do one of the two things he’d hoped for.

  1. Take the bait and apologize for not being around or; B. Ask him how he was doing.

  Since he’d started off by being a jerk, I wasn’t going to care how he was. Even if we had dated for a couple of very long years.

  Two elegant women in feminine but business-like suits sat at a round glass table across the enormous office. They had their heads together and a pile of documents on the table between them. The sun shone through to gild their reddish blonde heads and turn their delicate features porcelain. Not for the first time, I wished I’d inherited some of the perks of being a woman in my family, instead of just all the annoying obligations. My own hair wasn’t so much gilded by the sun as it was enflamed. And I couldn’t seem to pull off the feminine suit thing. I pretty much looked like a box with legs in them.

  My resemblance to my mom and grandmother also didn’t include their proclivity for serving as Familiar to the Witch of their choosing. Or, in their case, several Witches each. With their advanced age...Mom was coming up on her first century and Celeste, in addition to being the founder and owner of Familiar, Inc.,was nearly three hundred years young...they could pretty much pick any number of Witches to enhance with their magical charms.

  I’d yet to pick a single Witch and fully intended never to saddle myself with that obligation.

  Grandmama looked up and smiled. Her pale, peach lipstick perfectly matched the creamy color on her high cheeks and complimented the strawberry blonde of her hair. Her wide, blue-green eyes were filled with impatience, a look I saw mirrored in my mother’s gaze when she looked up too. “Oh good, she’s here.” My mother lifted a hand and wiggled her fingers to indicate that I should join them.

  Celeste shoved the pile of papers away and pointed toward a chair across from her. “Sit, child. We have much to discuss.”

  I couldn’t imagine what that would be. I doubted they wanted to talk about the cost of bulk kitty litter or the recent outbreak of fleas in my sanctuary. “I don’t have much time,” I said before bending down and giving each perfectly coiffed woman a peck on a porcelain cheek.

  Before I could stop myself, I ran a hand through my own more red than blonde locks, wishing I’d taken the time to brush my hair before coming inside. Driving with the top down in my little mudgie-bug was fun, but it wasn’t exactly conducive to tidy hair.

  “Nonsense,” my mother told me. “You have all the time in the world. It’s not as if those cats care about where you are.”

  I frowned, hating when she denigrated my work. “I know you don’t think what I do is important, Mother...”

  “Pshaw,” she responded.

  “We have more important things to discuss,” Celeste said, interrupting us before we could indulge in the usual catfight. Complete with real fangs and claws.

  I sat down, determinedly refusing to tug my cotton shirt straight or brush cat hair off my short skirt. “What’s going on?”

  “Didn’t Brock tell you?”

  I shrugged. “He was vague as usual. Just something about missing Familiars.”

  She sighed. “He’s such a chore.”

  “Why don’t you fire him,” I asked reasonably.

  “Because he’s very good at what he does. And he’s decidedly delicious.”

  My mother rolled her eyes. “Stop acting like a feline in heat, Celeste.”

  I barely suppressed a grin. Of all the things I loved about my grandmother, her brash honesty was my favorite. Love her or hate her, you always knew exactly where you stood.

  Celeste winked at me. “I can forgive him for being a bit scattered on this one, LA. I’m afraid his little cousin, Tabitha is one of the missing Familiars.”

  I felt my eyes go wide. “Tabby? Oh no! How long has she been gone?”

  “Three days. And she’s just the latest in a string of missing Familiars.”

  “Any idea what’s going on?”

  My mother shook her head. “They haven’t entirely disappeared from the web. Their life forces are still showing. But they’re...” she frowned as if searching for the right word. “disconnected somehow.”

  “Faded,” Celeste said on a nod. “I’ve never seen anything like it and, to tell you the truth, it has me a little unnerved.”

  “That’s terrible,” I said. “But I’m not sure what you want me to do about it.”

  Celeste held my gaze for a long moment and my stomach started to twist. Suddenly I knew exactly what she wanted me to do. I lifted my hands, shaking my head. “No.”

  “Yes, child. You owe it to your people.”

  “My people!” I screeched. “What people? The people who constantly denigrate me for my choices? The people who won’t even speak to me unless they have to? Those people?”

  Celeste stared hard at me for a long moment and then nodded. I knew in that moment that I was toast. “I’m sorry to hear Tabby was unkind to you.”

  I blinked, swallowed hard, and forced the words from my throat. “She wasn’t. She’s always been very kind to me, in fact. Unlike her cousin.”

  “We know how you feel about the family business, LA,” my mom said softly. “If there was anyone else who could do what you do we’d ask them.”

  I arched a brow in disbelief. “There’s nobody else?”

  “No, child,” Celeste told me. “No other Familiars. Tracking is a higher power. It’s a skill generally held only by Witches.”

  I knew my secret talent was special among Familiars. I’d heard it often enough growing up. If I was being honest with myself, I’d have to admit that it was one of the reasons I resisted an alliance. If I could carry tracking magic just like a Witch, why would I subjugate myself to one? “Then why don’t you just ask one of them to help? Surely somebody here has an alliance with a tracking Witch?”

  My mother shook her head. “We need to keep this in house, LA. We don’t know who we can trust. Since Familiars seem to be the targets, we have to assume the danger comes from outside our group.”

  I shook my head. “I’m sorry...”

  Celeste lifted a single, slender eyebrow and held my gaze. She didn’t speak. She didn’t need to. I received the message loud and clear. Expelling a frustrated breath, I relented. “All right. I’ll do it just this once. And just for Tabby.”

  Celeste smiled.

  My mother grinned knowingly.

  I quietly turned to flame beneath my skin. “I mean it. Just this once.”

  Celeste stood up and took my arm. “Of course, dear.” She guided me to the door and stood back as Jacob pulled it open. “Let me know what you find out.”

  I nodded, too angry to speak.

  “Oh, and LA.”

  I stopped, my teeth grinding together as I reluctantly turned back.

  “Say hello to your new Witch for me. Word on the street is that he’s a phenomena
l talent.”

  A loud creaking sound emerged and I forced my jaw to separate lest I fracture a tooth. Several things slid through my mind, all of them heartfelt and angry, but I didn’t say any of them.

  At that point I thought it was safer to make my escape before I said something we would all regret.

  I stomped out of the office, ignoring the receptionist as she called out a hearty farewell.

  Jacob was on the phone as I left and I gave him a quick wave as I headed toward the elevators, punching a button and fidgeting as I waited for it to arrive.

  “Hello, LA.”

  I glanced up and saw a pretty Familiar coming toward me down the hall. She was clutching the hands of two small children. The little girl was the mirror image of her mother, with shiny brown curls and wide, light brown eyes. The boy had darker hair and deep-set hazel eyes. He stared at me almost angrily, and I blinked under his fierce regard. “Hey. How are you...?” I realized with a quick jolt of embarrassment that I’d forgotten her name.

  “Holly,” she said with a soft smile. “These are my kids, Lena and Kristofer.”

  “Hey, kids.”

  We stood for a moment in uncomfortable silence, both of us keenly aware that I should have known her name.

  The elevator door dinged open and I let them precede me inside. As I punched the button for the first floor, I asked. “Is it take your kids to work day?” I gave her an apologetic smile and she returned it.

  But there was concern in her gaze. “Something like that.”

  Giving her aura a quick perusal, I saw the tinge of purple at the edges. She was worried about something. “They’re beautiful children.”

  “I’m not a child,” Kristopher said angrily.

  “Kristopher!” Holly cuffed him gently on the shoulder.

  He rolled his eyes.

  “He hates coming with me to work,” Holly explained.

  “It’s so lame here.”

  I realized the kid had to be close to twelve. That explained the attitude. I would have liked to commiserate. I’d always hated being dragged to Familiar, Inc as a kid too. I’d pretty much hated everything about the Familiar world. “Sorry. Of course you’re not.”

  He glared at me as if he thought I was being condescending and I gave up. The doors opened and I passed through. “It was nice seeing you, Holly.” Hurrying toward the exit, I tried to ignore the feeling of relief swamping me as I plunged back out into the sunshine.

  CHAPTER THREE

  I DROVE MUCH TOO FAST on the way home, parking crookedly at the curb and slamming into my house. I flung my keys on the little half round table in the hall and stalked angrily back to the door, which hadn’t quite latched when I slammed it into its frame.

  A hand appeared between the frame and the door as I reached for it and I gave a little squeal.

  The door opened wider and a handsome face popped through. The Good Samaritan Witch from up the street gave me a disarming smile.

  Well, not quite disarming, but it did slow me down a little as my parts seized and my systems blue screened.

  “Hello again.”

  I glared at him. “Do you not see this cranky look on my face?”

  His smile widened. “I do actually. It’s really pretty terrifying.”

  “And yet there you stand, seemingly unmoved.”

  He came the rest of the way through the door and shoved his hands into his pockets, as if to show the skittish crazy lady that he meant no harm. “I understand the desire for independence.”

  I blinked. I had to admit, of all the things I’d expected him to say, that wasn’t one of them. “What are you, some kind of self-help greeting card writer?”

  He laughed. “No, it’s just...”

  “Then what are you doing here?” I knew I was being rude, but something ugly was driving me and I seemed unable to slam on the brakes.

  He held up his hands. “I realize that being summoned before the Queen can’t be fun.”

  “How the hell...”

  He lifted his hands. “Full disclosure, I know Brock.”

  The cloud on my face darkened and roiled to tsunami levels. “Any friend of his is an enemy of the state. You can leave now.”

  “We’re not...”

  I cocked an eyebrow. The man had an infuriating way of almost saying something. “You have grammar Tourette’s don’t you?”

  He chuckled. “I meant, he and I aren’t friends. Brock is...” He actually blushed a little.”

  “There you go forking up sentence fragments again. At this rate I might get a full paragraph out of you by midnight. A page by Christmas. A book by...”

  “Okay, I get it. Brock is my cousin.”

  “Well, I’m sorry. We can’t pick our family.”

  He sighed. “Truth.”

  We stood there for a moment while he appeared to think we’d had a moment. I wasn’t sure what we’d had.

  “Look, whatever your name is...”

  “Deggart Kincaide. My friends call me Deg.”

  I gave him an assessing look just to make him uncomfortable. It was a flaw I had. When faced with someone who thought he might want to be my master, I showed him my hard ass b-eye-itch to convince him otherwise. The tendency might actually have something to do with the fact that at the ripe old age of twenty-nine I was already a crazy cat lady with split ends.

  Unfortunately for me, my assessing look seriously backfired. My victim was six feet two inches of deliciousness, with dark brown hair that fell across his forehead in a messy fringe, wide, full lips and dark silver eyes.

  I knew I was in trouble when I started to pant a little.

  “LA?”

  I frowned, slapping the hand away that had been waving in front of my face. “How do you know my name?”

  “Brock?”

  Argh! I was going to reduce that Demon to fur and nails the next time I saw him.

  “Well, it’s been...erm...nice to meet you, Deggart, but I’m really busy.”

  I grabbed the edge of the door and proceeded to shove it against him, trying to get him to leave. Turns out a door won’t close over a hundred and eighty pound man.

  “That’s actually why I’m here. I want to help you find them.”

  It appeared the Demon had been very talkative. “Thank you, Deggart...”

  “Please. Call me Deg. Save me from my mother’s ill conceived idea of a name.”

  I twisted my lips to hide a grin. “Deg. Thanks for the offer. But I got this.”

  “I’ve heard about your special skill.”

  Biting back a hiss, I fought for a conversational tone. Though it was really hard to speak through gritted teeth. “My special skill?” If Brock had told him things he had no right telling him...

  “This place. It’s a sanctuary, isn’t it? I commend you for your work. It’s about time somebody did it.”

  I stared at him, trying to decide if he was yanking my chain. “Um.”

  “Really. I spoke to an elderly calico yesterday...”

  Yeah, those weren’t words you heard often. “You spoke to a cat?”

  “I did.” He smiled. “We all have our special skills.”

  I frowned. “So you just, what? Meow and hiss at them and stuff?”

  He grinned and my stomach went, kerplunk. “It’s better than licking my butt to put them at ease.”

  I snorted.

  His smile slipped away and he took a step closer.

  I stood my ground, not wanting to show any weakness.

  “They’re scared, LA. Someone is hunting them. And those are the lucky ones. There’ve been whispers about being imprisoned in a cold, damp place.”

  All pretense of independence and not caring slid away as his words clanged through me like a bell. “Yeah. I’ve felt it.” And in that moment I knew I had. It was what had been making me jumpy, taking away my sunshine for days.

  “You felt what?”

  Lost in a feeling I couldn’t describe, I merely shook my head. “I’m sorry. I know you w
ant to help. I appreciate that, really I do. But this is tricky and I work alone.” I indicated the door and he gave me a final, long look. Finally, he nodded. “All right. But if you need me.” He extended a hand and a white card slipped from between his fingers.

  I blinked in surprise. I hadn’t even felt a surge of energy.

  “Call me. Any time of the day or night. And if you need someone to ask around...” He held my gaze for a moment, his sexy silver gaze narrowing. Then he shook his head and abruptly left, as if he’d just that moment lost all hope of making me see reason.

  I kind of knew how he felt.

  THE AFTERNOON PASSED slowly. I went about my chores at half speed, my mind filled with dread. Every time I thought about what I needed to do my heart would start to flutter, my stomach to twist.

  The cats in my sanctuary seemed to sense the turmoil in my system because they stayed away from me, perching in the very top of the trees I’d magicked for them. I had a few residents that were distrustful to begin with, and a few more that needed medical care on a daily basis. Unfortunately, short of tackling them to the ground or using my power to lure them out, I was unable to give them what they required.

  I’d need to put my own house in order before my skittish friends would let me tend to theirs.

  Sighing, I dropped my butt onto a rock in the grassy center of the space. A tiny meow sounded behind me and I turned to find one of three kittens I’d rescued the week before rubbing against the rock and narrowing her bright green eyes at me.

  “Hey Mabel.” I reached down and scooped the undersized critter into my hand. Her tummy rumbled happily and she rubbed her face against my chin as I kissed the velvety top of her head. “At least you still love me, huh?”

  The kitten was solid black, except for three white rings on her tail, and she had the greenest eyes I’d ever seen. She and her two brothers had been in an alley, cold and starving when I’d found them. I’d looked but found no sign of their mother, which was good and bad news. At least I hadn’t found her dead.

  The kitten curled up in my lap and gave a big sigh. I bent forward, enjoying her tiny weight and the sweet smell of her fur. Mabel ignored me for a moment, bathing her paws with a diligence that only a cat could show, then looked up and meowed softly in greeting. She rolled over onto her back and batted at a strand of my hair as I shook my head to entice her.