The Cat's Meow: A Halloween Anthology

by Hera B. Magic

  Wait.

  She looked around, saw Jimmy Renwick kneeling down and watching her with a furrowed brow.

  “Where am I?” Her voice sounded husky to her own ears.

  “Um, you’re laying under our front porch, ma’am. Everything all right?”

  A soft breeze covered her body in goose bumps, and she realized she wore no clothing. Scrambling to cover herself with hands and knees, her voice was higher than she would have liked as she demanded, “Where are my clothes?”

  Jimmy stood, his upper body leaving her line of sight. She scrambled forward, squinted her eyes when sunlight threatened to blind her, and blinked her house into view.

  “I don’t know, ma’am. Should I call someone? The sheriff or something?” He stood with his back to her now.

  “No!” Her fingers caught on rough cloth at the edge of the porch. A tarp! She tugged the material away from the edge of the porch, never minding the paint stains splattered across it. She tugged the tarp around her body like a toga as she found her feet. “No police.”

  His body angled toward her, eyes widening when he saw her. “Should I call my mom? She’s just upstairs—”

  “No!” She held a hand out. “I’m sorry. I’ll bring this back. I’m sorry!”

  Turning, praying her backside wasn’t showing, she dashed toward her house, grateful to find her clothes from the day before lying in a heap with her purse beside her car. Ditching the tarp, she hurried to the bathroom, the only room that had a large mirror. Parts of her were covered in dirt and grime, but all of her limbs were accounted for. No wounds or scars.

  No black fur.

  She looked as human as she’d ever appeared in a mirror. Maybe naked and afraid, but...

  Hysterical laughter bubbled through her chest. She was losing her freaking mind. The accident must have driven her insane.

  “I’m not a cat.” Trembling hands pushed the hair on her forehead back as she nodded at herself in the mirror. “Of course I’m not a cat.”

  Shower. She needed a warm shower, some coffee, and sleep.

  As the soothing water poured over her, her mind raced in a million directions. The old hag’s face kept filling her vision behind closed eyes. The unfamiliar words echoed around her mind. The sensation of being low to the ground, feeling lithe, and brushing fur with her tongue threatened to send her sanity into a spiral again.

  Burrowing into the soft robe, she reached for her phone and dialed Scarlett.

  “I need you to cover the shop today. I’m, um, sick.” She feigned a sniffle for good measure.

  Her intention had been to climb into bed and rest, but her mind wouldn’t settle down long enough to allow it. She tugged on a pair of jeans, a black sweater and pulled her hair back with a clip. Grabbing her jacket, she headed for the hospital, only realizing when she got there she had no idea what she was doing.

  A quick call to the officer who’d taken her statement after the accident earned her the old hag’s name. Or, her temporary name.

  Jane Doe.

  There had been no identification, and the woman had lapsed into a coma.

  With that information, it wasn’t hard to find the right room. Attached to an IV in intensive care, the elderly woman appeared deep in sleep as Hailey peered down at her. The sight was unnerving, mostly because of the memories conjured of another woman, another time.

  Gray pallor, sunken eyes, thinned hair. The cancer had robbed Hailey’s mother of her pretty features months before she’d ended up dying from it.

  “Promise me you’ll take care of Melanie,” had been her mother’s last coherent words to her before the morphine had stolen her mind. “Promise me!”

  “Are you family?”

  Startled, Hailey glanced at the woman dressed in nurse’s scrubs as she rolled a cart into the room.

  “No. Absolutely not.” Moving away, she said, “I’m sorry. I’ll leave.”

  “But—”

  Shoving her sunglasses on—everything seemed so freaking bright—Hailey quickened her escape.

  “Has anyone here been to The Devil’s Tramping Ground?”

  Luke Grayson followed the question by turning and writing Devil’s Tramping Ground in Bennett, North Carolina on the white board. Hearing nothing but murmurs from the students behind him, he underlined the words and wrote the name of a book he hoped they’d consider buying on the subject. The squeak of the back door opening made him sigh. Wouldn’t be the first time a student got up and left during one of his lectures, and it wouldn’t be the last. At least it would be one less paper he had to grade.

  Smirking at the thought, he glanced toward the back doors, only to see someone coming in rather than leaving. Since class was almost over, that was a new one.

  Then he realized who the interloper was, and every cell in his body stood at immediate attention.

  Long, auburn hair fell over a set of slim shoulders as Hailey Crawford fumbled her way to an empty seat in the back auditorium. He swallowed.

  “Anyone?” he asked, and tried to focus on the task at hand rather the sight of the only woman with the power to make him flap his tongue like a buck in heat.

  His small group of mythology students remained quiet, so he perched on the end of his desk.

  “Legend says there’s a 4-foot circle of bare ground in the forest where nothing has ever grown. Not a tree or a bush or even a blade of grass. Of course, it’s been passed down from local residents throughout the years that anyone who dares to spend the night in this circle ends up barely clinging to their sanity the next morning. Animals refuse to go near the spot. Others claim they’ve seen the devil himself there.”

  He paused, tried not to look at the woman in back, and picked up his notepad, slapping it against his knee.

  “Your assignment for next time is to research this legend online and bring in notes of what you found for discussion. There’s the name of a book you might want to check out.” He glanced at the clock in back and dropped his papers back on the desk. “Class is dismissed. See everyone next time.”

  The shuffling of books and papers along with movement and muted conversations was quiet compared to the thump of blood in his ears as Luke allowed himself to meet the gaze of his ex-girlfriend.

  Damn.

  He’d thought her effect on him had dulled, but then again, he hadn’t seen her in a while. Hailey had been hot as hell, and he still had the burns to prove it. The woman had gotten under his skin, and he’d made the mistake of letting her know it, too. Sure, she might have fed him some crap about their beliefs being too different, but Luke wasn’t an idiot. He was good at reading people, and the gutsy redhead had been scared as hell of the thought of a serious commitment between them.

  Pushing to his feet, he smiled and moved toward her. No one could accuse him of being a coward.

  “Don’t tell me you decided to audit my class, Miss Crawford. Last I heard, you thought—what was it you said?—that it was one thing to be open-minded, but another to be so open-minded your brains fell out.”

  At least she had the decency to grimace at that.

  “In case you hadn’t noticed, I can be kind of a bitch sometimes.” Her throat muscles moved beneath a swallow. “You look good, Luke.”

  He stopped a couple of rows away from her, leaned against the wall, and crossed his arms. Even from this distance her lavender scent teased his nostrils and made them flare with pleasant memories.

  “I can say the same to you.” And then he waited, because hell if he knew why she was here, and he wasn’t going to give too much away this time.

  She blew out a breath. “Anyway. I was in town and wondered if you wanted to get coffee. Maybe we could catch up? It’s been a while.”

  “Almost seven months.” Not that he’d been counting.

  Shaking her head slightly, she moved to her feet, saying, “Yeah, I knew this was a bad idea. Never mind. I should go.”

  He let her get almost to the exit before calling out, “I didn’t say no to
coffee.”

  She froze, and he almost wished she would ignore him, keep walking, and never look back. When she finally turned around, her gaze looked so tormented, he had to stop himself from rushing to embrace her.

  “You didn’t say yes either.”

  He pushed away from the wall. “Then I’m saying yes. My next class is in an hour and a half. Let me grab my jacket.”

  They walked to a café on the edge of campus, neither one saying much beyond mundane chitchat. He seriously doubted if she cared how his radio show had been doing in the ratings, but he answered anyway. She didn’t seem surprised when he confessed he’d been given an extra hour on weekends.

  “Must be hell on the personal life.” The smile she aimed his way seemed a little forced.

  He took a seat across from her at a table. “Can’t complain.” Or rather, he wouldn’t. He’d gone out a time or two, had some fun, but nothing serious. Not since she’d kicked him in the gut by walking away.

  After ordering some lunch with his coffee, he handed the waitress his menu and carefully took in Hailey’s appearance as she did the same. Her face looked strained from lack of sleep or stress, maybe both. Dark lines shadowed her eyes. Her color was pale, noticeably so.

  “Why are you really here, Hailey?”

  Her green gaze met his, surprised. Blinking fast, she couldn’t stop the tear that escaped her control. Before he could ask what was wrong, her face crumpled beneath a sob. She buried her face in her hands and sniffed while he reached across the table, uncertain what the hell he was supposed to do.

  “Hailey, baby, tell me what’s wrong.”

  After composing herself enough to be coherent, she did, spilling out some story about driving home late one night and hitting an old woman with her car.

  “Hell.” Luke didn’t care about propriety. He took one of her hands in his, soothed his thumb over hers. “That’s rough, sweetheart. At least she’s not dead. She’s in a coma—that means she might pull out of it.”

  Sniffling, it took her another minute to pull herself together, her fingers clinging to his without pulling away. Finally, she lifted her gaze and asked, “Do you believe in curses?”

  He smiled. “That’s a trick question, right?”

  “I’m serious.”

  Luke considered his words carefully. “Hailey. Listen to me. What happened to you was an accident. It wasn’t your fault. You’re not going to be cursed because of it.”

  “Luke, she said something to me and used words I didn’t understand. She spat on me. And then—” Shaking her head, she pulled her hand away. “I just think she might have done something.”

  “Like what? Put a curse on you?”

  “Maybe.” She pushed her hair behind one ear and looked away. “I don’t know.”

  “You’ve had a shock. That’s all. You can’t beat yourself up over this.”

  Their food arrived, and Hailey’s expression slowly hardened as he encouraged her to eat something. When he saw she’d closed up again, Luke swore beneath his breath before reminding himself she’d come to him in her time of need. That had to count for something.

  Luke would let her retreat, but he wouldn’t let her hide. Not this time. Not after he’d seen a glimpse of the vulnerable woman beneath her exterior.

  “I’d better go,” she said, pushing her half-eaten food away. Standing, she reached for her purse and tossed some money on the table. “Thanks for listening, Luke. It means a lot.”

  He said nothing.

  “I’ll see you around.”

  Turning, she weaved through the tables toward the exit. Luke watched her go, knowing he’d be seeing her again.

  Soon.

  Dammit! She was a cat again.

  Hailey jumped, yes, jumped onto the bathroom counter and stared at herself in the large mirror.

  Her small, feline body was covered in sleek black fur. The eyes staring back at her shone green, her natural eye color, the only part of herself she could halfway recognize.

  She lifted a hand, and her right front paw rose in the mirror. She lifted both hands and nearly tipped herself backwards off the counter.

  Dammit.

  At least this time, there had been no excruciating pain during the change. She’d woken in her bed, disoriented, and seen a skinny black, furry arm lying in front of her.

  Maybe I’m simply insane and this is a delusion.

  Maybe someone slipped me some drugs and I’m tripping out.

  Oddly, she kind of hoped that was true. At least she might stand a chance of regaining her sanity then.

  No. This felt too real.

  Muscles stretched easily as she flexed them. The fur was soft and a little gritty on her tongue. Tasted like cotton. Smelled like bed sheets that hadn’t been washed in a while. Gross.

  Venturing out of the bathroom, she explored her house with a new, lower perspective, grateful she was locked safely indoors this time. Testing her limbs and agility, she found she could leap pretty damn far without hurting herself and always seemed to land on her feet.

  She did knock off one of her favorite vases, which pissed her off—damn cat, even if the cat was her—and found she enjoyed peeking out of the uncovered window in the kitchen. There was a mouse crawling through the grass in the neighbor’s yard, but Hailey could see the little sucker as clear as day.

  Stomach growling, she glanced at the fridge. Well, dammit. She guessed she wasn’t eating tonight.

  When she walked, she practically floated, it was so easy. Wondering how high she could jump upward, she focused on the bookshelf. She tested her feet, pushed off the ground and almost hit the top but landed on the highest shelf instead, back paws clambering for a hold to pull herself up. Some objects tumbled to the floor, and she glanced down, a little surprised to see the framed photo of her and Luke among them. Hadn’t she put that in a box already? Leaping down, she pawed the frame.

  With his Native American heritage, Luke had inherited his rugged good looks from his ancestors. Dark hair, a little shaggy—she’d always had to remind him to get a haircut—brushed over come-hither gray eyes. The man had been something else. He’d always smelled like Irish Spring soap and sandalwood. Sniffing, Hailey’s senses were assaulted by the musky smell of dust.

  She sneezed.

  The sound of a car door slamming and a child’s voice drew her attention to the front door. Knocks vibrated through her body.

  “Hailey? Open up. We need to talk.”

  Melanie!

  Hailey sprang onto the sofa, calling out to her sister. Meowing followed.

  The sound of a key scratching around the lock preceded the door opening, and Harper toddled in, screaming, “Kitty!” when she spotted Hailey on the furniture.

  Her niece ran for her with the grace of some sort of miniature Godzilla, and every instinct in Hailey’s small body said, Oh, hell no. She tried to dart away, but Harper’s vise-like hands grabbed her hind legs before she could get far enough. The kid squeezed Hailey tight to her chest. “Mama! Look!”

  “Why is there a cat in Hailey’s house? She hates cats.” Melanie walked to the bedroom. “Harper, be careful with the cat, honey. Hailey, where are you?”

  Hailey squirmed. For the love of God, Harper was like an octopus. Her hands were everywhere Hailey didn’t want them to be.

  “Mama! Look!” Harper squealed and ran to where Melanie stood with a confused look on her face. “Can I have the kitty? Please!”

  “Harper, no. Your dad is allergic.” Melanie reached and Hailey found her body being used in a tug of war between mom and daughter as Melanie tried to extract the animal from the child’s grip. “Careful, honey.”

  The sensation of flying startled Hailey as her sister lifted her, and her paws clutched at Melanie’s shoulders. Holy fishsticks, she hoped Melanie didn’t drop her. Fingers gently stroked the fur at Hailey’s back, and a soothing purr escaped her control. Sweet mercy, that felt wonderful. Harper screamed and cried, demanding the cat, but Hailey barely noticed,
she was floating in so much bliss.

  “I don’t know why your aunt has a kitty here, but I’m sure there’s a good reason.” Melanie turned away from the child.

  Hailey purred and purred in ecstasy, eyes closed as her sister moved around from room to room, petting her as she went. Finally, Melanie said in a low murmur, “She must have left with someone.” She sighed and dropped a kiss on Hailey’s furry head. “Of course, she didn’t leave you anything to eat or drink, did she?”

  As soon as Melanie set her on the floor, Hailey made a run for the sofa, squeezing underneath and out of reach of little hands. Peeking out, she watched her sister put two bowls in the floor. Hailey’s mouth watered as the scent of tuna followed the tearing sound of metal.

  “Here you go, Kitty.” Melanie’s feet moved to the kitchen table. Silence followed for several seconds. Finally, she moved back into view. “Come on, Harper. We’ve got to go meet Daddy.”

  “Won’t the kitty be lonely?” Harper said in her sweet little munchkin voice.

  “Know what? Let’s turn the radio on for it.”

  Music filled the air, feet shuffled across the floor, and the door snapped shut. Seconds later, a car engine started, and Hailey crept out from the sofa.

  The tuna exploded on her tongue with a fusion of flavors. Nom. Nom. Nom. This might have been the most delicious meal she’d ever eaten. She didn’t even care that she practically had to bury her face in the bowl to get to it.

  Licking her chops, she pranced back to the sofa and settled down. She sure was tired, considering she’d just awoken not too long ago.

  Sometime later, the sound of a familiar voice teased her awake again, and she stretched, feeling well rested.

  “…old friend today, and she asked me this question — ‘Luke, do you believe in curses?’ So I decided to make it the topic of the first hour of the show tonight. I want to hear your thoughts and your experiences.”

  Luke’s deep, seductive voice filled the air, and Hailey remembered the radio had been turned on for her. Her ears twitched as she moved closer to the speakers. Curling up, she closed her eyes and let his voice comfort her. A soft purr rumbled her chest, and she popped her eyes open.