Blonde With a Wand

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  If he hadn’t been factoring in the witch thing, he would have said they were herbs like basil and oregano, but he couldn’t imagine she’d take up valuable windowsill placement for something that ordinary. She could be growing something poisonous there. For damn sure he wouldn’t chomp on any of them to find out.

  She’d added some decorator touches to the kitchen with colorful towels and potholders, plus she had a killer espresso machine sitting on a counter across from him. The blender sat next to the espresso machine. It was filled with a light green mixture—the margarita Lily had created with her wand. Other than the magic margarita, the kitchen was unremarkable-looking.

  He wasn’t sure what he’d expected—black cauldrons bubbling with evil-smelling potions, maybe. Jars filled with eye of newt or some equally nauseating ingredient. Instead the kitchen looked about the same as those belonging to his previous, nonwitchy girlfriends.

  The microwave dinged and she set a warm bowl of cut-up chicken in front of him. “I warmed it up for you,” she said. “And here’s a bowl of water, too.” She put that down beside the chicken.

  The food smelled like heaven, which probably explained why Orion was yowling with displeasure as he pranced back and forth in the narrow kitchen.

  “I can’t give you any,” Anica told him. “The vet’s orders were very specific. No more table food. Being overweight is bad for your heart.”

  Jasper tried to enjoy his triumph as he ate the chicken, but Orion sounded pitiful. If the orange cat hadn’t tried to rip out his throat, Jasper might even feel sorry for him.

  “Hey, Orion, sweetie. Come on over.” Anica held out her hand. “Let me give you a cuddle. That’s better than food.”

  Orion must not have thought so, because he danced away from her and kept yowling his complaint about being chickenless. He was making quite the racket.

  “Okay, this is not working. You’re disturbing the neighbors.”

  Sure enough, a thumping noise came from above them.

  “See?” Anica snatched up a protesting Orion and carried him into the living room.

  A door opened and closed, and then there was silence. Jasper couldn’t believe she’d just throw her cat out in the hall. He was working very hard not to feel sorry for Orion, but if Anica had given him the boot for a few angry yowls, then Jasper had better mind his manners. He couldn’t afford to be tossed out the door. Not if all this was real.

  Anica walked back into the kitchen minus her cat.

  Jasper stared at her, his heartbeat picking up. He was at her mercy and he didn’t really know what she was capable of doing. He prepared to run if necessary, to fight if he had to.

  “Don’t worry,” she said, as if reading his mind. “I put him in the coat closet. He actually loves it in there, and the darkness settles him down.”

  Some of Jasper’s tension drained away. Thinking like a cat, he could imagine how a cozy dark place would appeal. Now that he’d had his chicken and some water, he could go for a cozy dark place, himself.

  “Since he’s tucked away, feel free to use the litter box if you want.”

  His brain went on tilt. Litter box? Oh, dear God.

  Anica continued to explain the setup in a perfectly normal voice, as if she weren’t bringing up the most horrific concept he’d yet encountered about this transformation.

  She pointed to the end of the kitchen. “The litter box is in there, on the floor of the pantry. I always leave the pantry door open for easy access.”

  She could have a freakin’ red carpet leading through that pantry door. He wasn’t going in there. Not now. Not ever. He was a man. He got the indoor plumbing concept.

  “I think I might be better off leaving Orion in the coat closet for the night,” she said. “He’s had a rough time—not that you haven’t—but that’s his security spot. It’ll only be for tonight, anyway.”

  She paused, her finger tapping her chin. “I’m not sure where you’d rather be for the rest of the night. I don’t have an actual kitty bed, because Orion usually sleeps with me.” She shrugged. “I’ll leave it up to you.”

  Turning off the kitchen light, she walked into the living room and doused the lights in there, too. When she walked into her bedroom, she left the bedroom door open.

  Jasper sat on the counter and contemplated his next move. Where should he spend the night? He could take a chair in the living room, or he could crawl back under her bed. He could also sleep on her bed, but that would appear too friendly, as if he actually liked her.

  At the moment, though, he had a more pressing problem than where he’d spend the night. He had to pee.

  Chapter 5

  Anica didn’t sleep worth a damn. When she woke up, groggy and disoriented, at five, the misery of the previous night came rushing back.

  Having Jasper loose in the house all night had been a bad idea, psychologically speaking. She should have locked him in the bathroom or the kitchen—anywhere so that she’d know where he was.

  While half-asleep she could have sworn she’d heard the toilet flush. Then she’d had nightmares that he’d spontaneously changed back into a man, which she supposed could have happened. She’d been so irresponsible to invoke a spell she didn’t completely understand.

  She’d acted out of arrogance and wounded pride. Because she was so good at her craft and normally had no problem countering the spells she cast, she’d never dreamed she couldn’t undo anything she created. How wrong she’d been.

  If—no, when—Jasper became a man again, he might well be murderous with rage. She couldn’t really blame him. Under the same circumstances, she’d be ready to do damage to the person who’d cursed her.

  Because she’d never seen Jasper truly furious, she wasn’t sure what sort of reaction to expect from him when she and Lily transformed him. She’d take his clothes to the one-hour cleaning service this morning so he’d have something to wear, but that was the least of her worries.

  She wasn’t afraid that he’d sue her, because no one would believe that he’d been changed into a cat. But he could do something like ruin her business with some well-placed comments to her regular customers, who knew he’d been dating her. He could use the power of the Internet to disparage the quality of the coffee and the food.

  She lay in the dark, listening for the sound of Jasper moving around the apartment. To her surprise what she heard was the slow click of computer keys. Her pulse raced and she sat up. Had he regained his human form, and was he already using her computer to find ways to destroy her?

  Heart pounding, she listened carefully. Whoever was typing couldn’t be Jasper, or at least not Jasper in his normal state. She’d seen him text on his BlackBerry. The guy knew his way around a keyboard. This sounded more like a nontypist, someone laboriously using the hunt-and-peck method.

  Her imagination conjured up all sorts of horrible possibilities. Jasper might have turned into something between worlds, half man and half cat, a creature that would make people scream with terror. Or maybe her use of the ancient spell had conjured up some magical monster sent to punish her, and it had begun by typing up a list of her sins to send to everyone in her address book.

  How could a magical being get into her apartment, though? She had protective spells cast around every door, window, and vent. Oh, wait. If her magic was gone, then those protective spells would be gone, too. That meant they’d disappeared from her business, too. She hadn’t even considered that, hadn’t thought to ask Lily to replace those spells for her.

  Slowly she drew back the covers and slipped out of bed. Normally she’d grab her wand before going out to face an unknown threat, but obviously her wand wasn’t working. She searched the dim interior of her bedroom for a weapon, although mere weapons would be no use against magic.

  Still, she couldn’t make herself go out there without some sort of defense. Unplugging the hand-painted ceramic lamp sitting on her bedside table, she took off the shade, unscrewed the bulb and wound the cord around the base. Aimed correctly, the
lamp could crack a skull—if that skull was human.

  As she crept down the dark hallway the sporadic clicking continued. Her chest tightened and she stopped to draw a shaky breath. She needed to calm herself. Whoever was typing must not have her imminent death in mind. Otherwise they would have attacked her in her sleep. Unless he wants to destroy my reputation before he destroys me.

  Whoever or whatever it was would be facing the screen with its back to the hall. She grasped the lamp by the narrow neck and raised it over her shoulder as she made her way to the end of the hall. Heart pounding, she peered into the living room.

  The ghostly light from the monitor revealed Jasper, who was still very much a cat, sitting at her desk. She sagged with relief to discover he wasn’t some malformed mix of man and cat, and that no monster had invaded her space.

  But her worries weren’t over, not by a long shot. The implications of Jasper at the computer were enormous. She understood that and yet she was fascinated by how he’d managed to do it.

  His haunches rested on her chair, and he’d braced his left front paw on the desk so he could use his right front paw to press the keys. He studied the keyboard before each tap, the way a touch typist would have to do because they’d long ago forgotten the exact location of each key. He was using Word, which meant he’d successfully navigated the mouse. The scene looked like a video from YouTube that would of course be titled “Cat and Mouse.”

  Under other circumstances Anica would be laughing her head off as she watched a cat in command of a computer. But this wasn’t a trumped-up video, and a cat with the mind of a man—an enraged man at that—was a scary thing.

  No telling how long he’d been at this exercise. If he’d managed to use the mouse, then he could have already been surfing the Net. He could have sent a bunch of destructive e-mails while she was asleep.

  She’d never imagined he’d turn on the computer, but why not? It was a perfectly logical move given his limited choices. She had to give him points for ingenuity, even if she was worried sick about the consequences to her.

  She walked toward him. “Good morning, Jasper. I see you’ve decided to use the computer.”

  He turned his head and gazed at her with wary eyes.

  In a moment of blinding insight, she realized he was as afraid of her as she was of him. While he was a cat, she had the power of life and death over him. He couldn’t know that she wouldn’t use that power, although she was seriously thinking she’d restrict his computer access for the time being.

  His gaze flicked to her right hand.

  She’d been so intent on the computer problem that she’d forgotten that she was carrying her bedside table lamp. He could very well think she meant to brain him with it.

  “I couldn’t imagine who was out here typing,” she said. “I brought this to defend myself.” She lifted the lamp slightly. “Lame, I know, but I’ve never bothered to keep anything around for protection. I always could count on my wand, plus the protective spells I’d placed around the apartment. Now I have nothing but a hand-painted lamp.”

  Setting it on the floor by the desk, she picked up Jasper and sat at the desk with him in her lap. The message on the screen was obviously to her and amazingly didn’t contain any swear words. Considering how he struggled to type, he might not think it was worth it to waste time cussing her out.

  Besides, as she’d recently realized, he might be afraid of how she’d react. He needed her in order to revert back, or rather he needed the combination of her and Lily. He couldn’t afford to tick her off.

  The words were constructed the way she’d expect from someone with only one paw at his disposal. He’d used his texting skills to cut down on the typing, and he’d turned on the capitalization function, so everything appeared in caps.

  CALL WRK NMBR BSNSS CRD IN WALET SAY IM SCK WAKE LILY UP CHNGE M

  She could guess that had he finished, the last letter would be an E. His demands were reasonable. She couldn’t imagine why she’d agreed not to call Lily until noon just because no one ever called Lily before noon. This was an emergency.

  “I’ll call your work number at nine a.m.,” Anica said.

  “And I’ll call Lily this morning, but not right this minute. If I call her at five twenty, even if I get her over here, she’ll be of no use to us. An incompetent witch is worse than no witch at all.”

  Jasper put his left paw on the desk and started poking at keys again. WHT TME

  “Eight o’clock. I’ll call her at eight.”

  NO

  “Okay, I’ll call her at seven thirty.”

  NOW

  Anica sighed. He was right. She’d fire up the espresso machine and pour a couple of cups down her sister. They had to get back to work on this.

  “Okay, Jasper. I’ll call her.”

  He repositioned himself in her lap so he could reach the mouse. He dragged the cursor to the bottom of the screen.

  “Omigod.” She’d been so focused on the message he’d typed in Word that she’d missed the Internet tab sitting at the bottom. He’d been online after all. If he’d been e-mailing . . . but no, that would have taken an enormous effort, considering how tough it was for him to type text.

  She reached for the mouse and brought up the Internet screen—a Google listing of sites dealing with magic. He hadn’t been e-mailing anyone. While she’d been sleeping, he’d been trying to help himself in the only way he could manage. He’d turned on the computer and tried to do research. Ridiculously, her throat tightened.

  “I’ll definitely check this out,” she said. “Thank you. I completely forgot about going on the Internet. Thanks for the reminder.” She minimized the screen again. “Is there anything else you wanted to tell me?”

  Jasper painstakingly tapped out another message.

  LEVE LID UP

  Jasper had finally come to the inescapable conclusion that he’d been hexed by a witch’s spell, and he wanted it rectified immediately. Working the computer without opposable thumbs hadn’t been easy, but at least he’d been doing something. Now he was forced to let the witchy sisters take over.

  From listening to Anica’s side of the conversation when she called her sister, Lily wasn’t responding well to the summons. Tough shit.

  “She has to take a shower to wake herself up,” Anica said as she clicked the cell phone closed. “But she’ll be here.”

  It wouldn’t be soon enough for him, but he had limited control in this situation. Very limited control. Then Anica let Orion out, and Jasper’s focus shifted from Lily’s impending arrival to escaping death. Orion was one scary cat. Plus he hated Jasper’s guts, which in all fairness Jasper understood.

  To add fuel to the fire, Anica hauled out another chicken breast, cut it up and nuked it for Jasper, while Orion was stuck with something Anica said was low-fat and probably tasted worse than it looked. Once Anica had put food out for both cats, she left to take a shower.

  Orion ate the miserable food in his bowl lickety-split, which meant he had plenty of time to pace back and forth in front of the counter and growl at Jasper, who took his time with the chicken. After all, he had nothing else to do until Lily showed up.

  He peered down at Orion a few times, and each time Orion hissed and glared his intention to take Jasper apart at the first opportunity. From this vantage point, Jasper could evaluate Orion’s bulk. Even when his fur wasn’t sticking out, he was big. Fat, actually. He might be lazy by nature, but he probably didn’t have much motivation to exercise, either.

  Jasper finished his chicken and wondered what else he could do to pass the time. If he stayed here on the counter he’d start thinking about his situation, and that was counterproductive because he couldn’t do a damned thing about it without a witch on hand.

  He could, however, work off some of his stress and some of Orion’s flab at the same time. His leap from the counter landed him right in front of Orion, who hopped backward in shock. Jasper let loose with a taunting hiss. Then he ran like hell.

&nbs
p; Because Orion was no match for Jasper’s speed and agility, Jasper paced himself so the pudgy cat wouldn’t give up. Staying just out of reach, he raced through the apartment. When Orion got a little too close, Jasper launched himself at the first available high place. If a few things scattered, so be it.

  Then he was off again, tearing from room to room like a maniac. It was the best he’d felt since Anica zapped him with her wand. An elliptical had nothing on this kind of workout. He’d spent too much time in a gym. Once he got out of this mess, he’d round up some guys and play touch football every weekend.

  Anica walked into the living room in her terry robe, a towel wrapped turban-style around her hair. She glanced at the scene of the Great Chase. “Holy shit.” She smelled like oranges and flowers, but she sounded like a drill sergeant. “Jasper! Orion! Stop that right now!”

  Jasper leaped to his favorite spot on top of the bookshelf and studied Anica’s thunderous expression. Had he been a man, he could have coaxed her back to the bedroom and made sure she forgot all about the destruction he and Orion had caused.

  But he was a cat, not a man, and besides he was furious with her, so he didn’t care if she was upset. With a certain degree of satisfaction he surveyed the damage he’d inflicted on her apartment.

  Magazines that had been lying on the coffee table were scattered over the floor, and the stack of books she’d been consulting the night before were on the floor, too. Some ivy-looking plant on a wrought-iron stand had been dumped, spilling moist dirt everywhere.

  He and Orion must have tracked through the dirt a few times, because black paw prints decorated every piece of upholstered furniture in the living room and most of the carpet. Between the paw prints and the remnants of the dried mousse, the carpet was in sad shape.

  Jasper’s one attempt to climb the drapes had tempted Orion to follow, and the weight of both cats had pulled the rod out of the wall. The rod had dented a lampshade on the way down, and the drapes, complete with paw prints, lay in a tangled heap below the window. A couple of framed photographs had fallen off a side table. The glass was cracked on one that had landed sunny-side up.