The Cat's Meow

by Stacey Kennedy

  “Is it so hard to believe I want to ensure you are safe?” His expression firmed, and his voice sharpened. “I’m growing tired of having to explain my motivations.”

  “Well, I’m growing tired of your evasiveness, so we’re even.” I believed him, but it seemed like he held back on his reasoning. He didn’t have a duty to keep me safe—he came to Charleston to discover who killed the cats, or to gather information on me for my coven to burn me at the stake. I still hadn’t decided which way I leaned. But maybe his vow meant more to him, and now since the danger intensified, so did his need to ensure that I remained safe.

  Maybe…

  I stuffed all the ingredients into the red silk dream pillow and tightened the drawstring. “As for your question, no, I’m not in any danger.” I shrugged—it wasn’t exactly true, because I honestly had no idea what would happen with this spell. “Or so I suspect, since I’ve never done this before.”

  “Those odds aren’t great considering you’re in this dream alone.” The concern somehow deepened in the depths of his eyes as he frowned at me, then at the dream pillow. “That is going to help you converse with the dead?”

  Why couldn’t Kale just stick to the behavior that irritated me, instead of doing sweet things like thinking about my safety? Especially since it gave weight to the fact that he, at the moment, had made it personal. “It’s one step to the process, yes.” I approached the fridge, opened the door, and took out the bottle of water. “Step two, moon potion.” When I turned to Kale, he eyed the water as if it were poison, and I laughed. “It’s just water.”

  “Plain water?”

  “Yes, but charged by the moon.” I took a glass out of the cabinet, filled it, and then chugged half of it down, welcoming the pause to examine him. The time had come to dig a little deeper into his lack of knowledge to determine if it was fake, to have me explain my spells, or if he genuinely didn’t know. “You know, for an experienced warlock, your knowledge of spells sucks.” I seemed to surprise him…a lot. Sure, I altered spells to my preference and even these spells were new to me, but many witches did the same to fit their connection to the Goddess.

  He shifted on his feet. “It’s not common for me to work side-by-side with a witch.” His blank expression gave nothing away, nor did his flat tone. “But the witches I have seen haven’t conjured the spells you’ve done.”

  A compliment perhaps? Or was it just another way to sidestep my question? “Maybe you should spend more time with witches then, since their assistance solves most cases.”

  A sly smile spread across his face. “The only reason?”

  “A big part of it.” After another sip of the moon potion, I grabbed a pot and placed it on the stove. “Without the spells you seem so intrigued by, you wouldn’t be able to hunt the killers you do.”

  When I turned back to him, his smile had vanished. “You act as if it’s a competition.”

  “’Cause it is.” Or maybe it had been since Bryon, I should have said, considering that by all appearances Kale didn’t seem to have that trait. Maybe Kale hid it well. Not like I’d go into any of that with him. To my relief he allowed the subject to drop.

  I added some hazelnut oil to the pot and, after it warmed some, I took it off the stove, grabbed up the moon potion, and took a morning glory flower out of my hutch. “Let’s get this over with.”

  Kale frowned, at what I didn’t know—the spell ahead of me, or my view of warlocks? Better to leave it alone. The last thing I needed was to argue with him, discover his position of haughtiness, and have to prove myself on a personal level instead of only proving my kick-ass magic.

  I headed down the hallway and entered my bedroom. The room replicated the rest of the house, except the walls were a dark purple. I placed the glass and pot on the distressed Tristan nightstand and added the flower to the oil. Removing my corset, I placed it over my chest to cover up and not give Kale a view I didn’t want him to have, since I suspected he’d somehow spin this moment so he owned it. But it made me glad he was there because I had no clue how I would’ve done the next step without him.

  As he entered the room, his eyes widened for a split second before they lowered and smoldered. He approached in measured steps, only to stop a few feet away.

  With my free hand, I took the pot off the nightstand and offered it to him. “Can you rub the oil on my shoulders and back?”

  He glanced over my body, lingering on the corset that covered my breasts but left my stomach exposed, before he looked back into my eyes. “What will this do?”

  I fought against my smile, not at all bothered that being half-naked unraveled the tough warlock. Looked good on him since I’d been in the same position way more than I preferred. “It makes my dream sharper, so I’ll remember it when I wake up.”

  He considered me a moment and drew in a deep breath through his nose, but then closed the distance between us, took the pot, and scooped up the oil in his hand. “Turn around.”

  I complied, and then immediately wished I hadn’t. The moment his warm hand pressed against my back, my eyes fluttered closed and my body liquefied under his touch. While I expected his hands to be firm, they weren’t. His soft caresses brought forth a heat I hadn’t anticipated. Each slide across my skin didn’t seem like a move to apply the oil, but to massage the worry from my muscles.

  Kale appeared to understand that a witch’s body enjoyed tenderness. But I didn’t doubt his hands could be rough when he wanted it. I bit my lip and tried my damnedest not to moan. By the time he reached my lower back and kneaded out a tight muscle, one escaped. I sucked it back in, catching a huge sniff of the warm hazelnut oil now worked into my skin, which mixed with Kale’s woodsy scent. Goddess, now my relaxed muscles trembled with need. “That should do it.”

  With my back to him, I dressed in my corset again and didn’t dare to look at him. I suspected his expression would be similar to what simmered low in my body. Being in my corset with his stare on me wouldn’t be a wise decision.

  I turned down my black duvet, crawled into my king-size sleigh bed, and finally had the nerve to peek at him. He hadn’t moved—his hand still gripped the pot in the exact position I handed it to him, and a large bulge was ever-so-evident in the front of jeans.

  After a deep swallow, I forced myself to look away from that area of his jeans, and waved him forward. “Here, I need that.”

  His piercing eyes stared intently into mine, but he closed in on the bed and offered the pot. I applied the mixture to the balls of my feet and rubbed it in. Once finished, I placed the pot on the nightstand and grabbed the glass of moon potion, taking another few sips. “Okay, good to go.”

  “Your magic is complicated.” He chuckled with a shake of his head, but Goddess did his laugh sound deep and seductive, only igniting more flames within my already scorching body.

  I stared at my feet and pretended to rub the oil in a little more to avoid him. “Complicated it may be, but it works.”

  “Good point.” He raised the blanket up, waiting for me to scoot underneath, as if he was, in fact, caring for me. “Can I help at all?”

  “Um…no.” When I glanced up at him, his lips were pressed into a firm line, giving the impression he didn’t enjoy the spell I was about to do. “Stop looking so worried, it’ll be fine.” I tried to find a sneaky motive for why he’d care as much as he showed now. Sadly—or maybe not so sadly—I couldn’t find one.

  His brows drew together. “I don’t like you doing this alone where I’m not there to protect you.”

  “Well…” The sheer frustration on his face made me pause. For every time I suspected he was out to get me, he’d do something to make me think otherwise. Even if he had a job to do, the gentleness and concern emanating off him couldn’t be faked, and why did my heart flutter that his worry might be genuine? “Not much you can do about that.”

  “I know,” he grumbled, turning away, and then he sat down in my wingback rocking chair in the corner of the room. “Will you sleep now?�
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  I nodded before I lowered my head to the pillow and pulled the warm duvet up around me, inhaling the calm scent of hazelnuts. “If I scream bloody murder, wake me up.”

  He frowned. “Do you expect that to happen?”

  “It’s a precaution.” I snuggled into my pillow and shut my eyes, willing myself to sleep. Not all that difficult of a task—with all that had happened, exhaustion was easily found, but then an issue rose. Kale might have remained quiet, yet his fierce examination of me continued. “Problem?”

  “No.”

  “Why are you staring at me?”

  He chuckled. “How can you tell when your eyes are closed?”

  Because I can feel your sexy eyes all over me. “I just know, and if you want me to sleep, stop it.”

  He hesitated, then said in a dangerous low voice, “I’m looking at the floor.”

  Liar. But I wasn’t about to prove him wrong while I lay in bed. No need to increase the temptation to say screw contacting the spirit and screw Kale instead. Shoving all of those thoughts from my mind, I drew in a long breath, focusing away from the naughtiness threatening to overwhelm me, and concentrated on only blackness.

  While relaxation settled in and I drifted off, my focus shifted to Kale’s deep breaths, and I allowed the sounds of his breathing to pull me into sleep.

  A haze of color sped across my vision: pinks, oranges, and greens. When the colors cleared, I inhaled a sharp breath and I found myself in a meadow. A lovely piece of heaven that made me believe, without a doubt, I was in a dream; flowers didn’t have this type of color in real life.

  “You are stunning, witch.”

  I spun around and blinked, but my shock remained as I stared at Kale. His gaze burned with a heat, leaving no misunderstanding that he meant what he said. The expression he wore now didn’t compare in the least to what I thought he’d look like when aroused.

  “Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” I grumbled. “No way. I’m not having an erotic dream.”

  His voice dipped lower, seductive. “Come here, my witch.”

  “Go away.” I squeezed my temples hard, praying to the Goddess to stop this insanity. “Go away. Go away.”

  Hands gripped my arms and yanked me forward, so I peeked an eye open. Kale looked down at me with a ravenous hunger. “Now why would you want me to leave you?”

  “Because I have a job to do.”

  Speaking of that job, where the heck was the ghost? I glanced around, even though Kale never let me go, and off by a neon-yellow tree the ghost waited, watching me. He looked exactly the same, without the horror on his face, but had the same height, dark hair color, and average build. “You,” I called to the ghost. “I need to speak to you.”

  “A ménage à trois?” Kale murmured. “I’m not pleased, Libby.”

  I heaved a sigh. “Goddess, if this is your idea of a joke, it ain’t funny.”

  The ghost approached, hesitant in his steps. Kale swiped my hair over my shoulder, leaned down, pressed his lips on my skin, and nibbled. I sucked in a ragged breath as those lips moved perfectly across my flesh.

  “Thank you for coming,” I said to the ghost, and demanded that my attention stay away from the sensation of Kale’s talented mouth. Even if it was only dream-Kale, Goddess those lips were…nice.

  “Why have you brought me here?” the ghost asked, examining me with dark, cautious eyes.

  “I need to find out what happened to you.” I moaned as Kale slid his tongue along the side of my neck and carved a path upward.

  “You plan on talking about this while he is doing that?” the ghost accused.

  “I won’t be able to stop him.” I tried to maintain my focus as Kale ran his hands along my back and pressed his erection against my hip. “It’s pointless. I’m dreaming and my mind set this scene up, so we have to work around it.”

  Kale grunted. “You’re right. You won’t be able to stop me, Libby.”

  “All right,” the ghost drawled, and his expression became somewhat amused. “I’ll tell you what happened.”

  I shivered as Kale reached down to my bottom, squeezed my butt cheek, and thrust me up against him. My eyes fluttered closed for all of one second before I snapped them open to the ghost. “Sorry. Go on. Be quick about it.”

  Kale grabbed my face, turned me to him, and sealed his mouth over mine. I should’ve ignored him, pulled away, or something of that nature, but my body disagreed. It flared with heat and tingled in all the right places. His kisses were possessive and educated, and I found myself lost in the demand of his lips.

  As his tongue danced with mine in an embrace to stop time, I realized my mistake. “Would you quit?” I tore away from him, but he held my face in his hands and kissed along my jawline. “I have a job to do and all this kissing is distracting.”

  “I don’t care about your job.” Kale exhaled, and the warm caress of his breath along my flesh sent a hot wave coursing through me, pooling low in my belly and speeding downward. “I care only to get you naked and beneath me.”

  The ghost cleared his throat. “Would you like me to come back later?” His voice rolled with amusement, and maybe a hint of annoyance.

  “Don’t you go anywhere,” I snapped at the ghost. “Go on. Tell me what happened and who you are.”

  He stared at Kale for a moment, but then he inclined his head. “My name is Roderick Evers and I’ve lived in Charleston for five years now.”

  I waved him on. He had to hurry up. Kale now bit at the sensitive spot on my nape and to my sheer horror, my breath deepened. Did I tremble?

  Damn, I sure as hell did.

  Roderick continued, “I’m not totally sure what happened. I was on my way home from work and I was attacked from behind.”

  “Did you see who did it?” Goddess, my voice had lowered to a soft purr.

  Roderick shook his head. “I think I got a bat to the skull.”

  “At any point did you wake up?” I asked on a long sigh, since Kale had tangled his fingers through my hair and held me close as he continued with his relentless attack on my neck with his wicked tongue.

  “I remember waking up and being held down,” Roderick answered.

  “By a person?”

  “No. It was something fierce and powerful, pinning me to the ground. I remember looking up at the stars, but I was unable to turn my head or move.”

  I closed my eyes for a second and attempted to maintain my focus as Kale whispered sweet—very naughty—words into my ear. I drew in a deep breath and snapped my eyes open. “The pentagram you were in might have held that power.”

  The ghost nodded. “I’m assuming so. I never believed in magic.” Which wasn’t a surprise to me since most humans didn’t. “But now…”

  Kale proceeded to run his hand along my stomach and worked his way lower. I grabbed his hand and held it firm against my abdomen. If he went any farther, dream or not, I’d jump him. “Is there anything else you can tell me that will help me find out what happened to you and who did it?”

  Roderick pondered. His brows drew together as he said, “I thought I heard a name.” Wariness spread across his features. “But I can’t be sure.”

  “Anything at this point is better than nothing,” I soothed, and hated how raspy my voice sounded. “Tell me who and I can follow up on it. I won’t act unless they were involved.”

  Kale groaned into my nape, and I gasped as he tore his hand from mine, went straight between my legs and cupped me. “That’s it.” I shoved him away. “You stay there.”

  He grabbed the hem of his T-shirt and removed it, then tossed it aside, which sent those muscles of his flexing. For all of one second I was stunned stupid. This might be a dream, but if he looked anything close to what my fantasy made up, he was perfection. Muscle after muscle created a physique of masculine beauty.

  “Bryon Holt,” Roderick stated.

  Crap! Not what I wanted to hear. I glanced over at Kale and wanted to discuss this development with him only to find that
he now had removed his pants and stood in all of his naked glory.

  My mouth went dry and I blinked a few times before I finally had the strength not to gawk at him. I had to give myself props—I sure knew how to make a sexual fantasy good. I really had to do my spells more often. This was a dream I wouldn’t mind completing and remembering when I woke up.

  I centered myself and turned to Roderick. “Thank you. I promise I’ll do what I can to stop whoever is behind this. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

  He shrugged. “What would I need? I’m dead.”

  “You have no family or anything?”

  “No family.” He shook his head with sad eyes. “I never bothered to busy myself with such things and focused only on work.”

  Kale stepped forward, but I pointed at him. “I said to wait there.” I focused back on Roderick. “Find your peace. Move on from this place and step into the light to go home. I’ve asked the Goddess to guide your way.”

  His eyes saddened further. “How can I? I feel as if a part of me is missing.”

  While I understood, and it had been the same question Kale had asked, they were both wrong. “The center of your soul, the goodness and purity, a demon cannot take. It’s how you’re here with me now. The Goddess protects that part of you and she’s waiting for you.”

  Roderick appeared to consider my advice, and then his eyes widened with clarity as he glanced over his shoulder. After a moment, he looked back at me with a genuine smile. “I know the way.” He strode off through the meadow, and then he faded away. To where, I had no idea, but I believed the Goddess would keep him safe.

  “Good. We’re alone.” Kale’s rich voice drifted across me in a blast of fire. “Now come here and stop avoiding me. I want to pleasure you.”