Curse of the Witching Hour

by Sarina Dorie

  That evening, he showed up before the library closed. Gertrude had a bowl of meat waiting for him. After hunting mice in the forest, he wasn’t particularly hungry, but he ate half of it, mostly to show Gertrude he appreciated the effort. He was never one to turn down a meal.

  She sat in her armchair reading a spell book. He hopped onto her lap and perused the text. It was written in Latin. He hadn’t studied foreign languages in years—since he’d been an apprentice. He recognized a few words on the page, “curse” being one of them.

  Gertrude scratched him behind the ears and closed the book. “Is your curse similar to a Sleeping Beauty Curse? You can only be cured by sexual intimacy?”

  He hid his head under his paws, not wanting to answer. He didn’t want her to know what he was. Already he’d given away too much about himself. Yet, if he was going to break his curse and rescue Abigail, he would need help from someone. He was going to have to trust her. At last he lifted his head and nodded.

  “Your curse is similar to a Sleeping Beauty Curse?” she asked.

  It wasn’t, but that was the closest he could get to an explanation. Gertrude wasn’t like Abigail with an alphabet board. Nor did she keep bottles of ink on her desk that he could dip his claw into and write a message.

  “Is that how you broke your curse before?” she asked. “You were intimate with someone?”

  He didn’t know how to explain he could use other people’s sexual energies to aid him, so he nodded again.

  “Were you intimate with Abigail?”

  Hearing her name filled him with such despair and loneliness that he meowed pitifully and sank onto her lap.

  Gertrude stroked his fur. “It’s all right. I’ll find a cure for you.” Magic tingled in the air around her mouth, and the words felt like a promise.

  * * *

  Lucifer snuck into his brother’s office the following day while Felix was teaching class. Lucifer needed to get a message to Gertrude.

  Lucifer scavenged paper from a student’s essay. He felt a pang of regret that he was stealing someone’s homework. He dipped one of his claws in the well of ink to write a message. He ended up getting black paw prints on the desk and paper in the process and crossed out quite a few words as he wrote, to make his message clear.

  Can you turn into cat at full moon? If we mate, I might return to human. It worked with Vega Bloodmire, and it worked with Abigail.

  Also, Vega said if I don’t change into human soon, my soul will turn into cat’s, and I will be cat forever.

  No pressure.

  Lucy

  He brought the paper to her, Gertrude was hiding behind a mound of textbooks she was stamping. He nudged her ankle with his head and dropped the slightly crumpled paper at her feet.

  She stooped to pick it up. “Well . . . this is the cheekiest pickup line I’ve ever heard.” Her lips curled upward in amusement.

  He sat straight and tall, trying to look the part of an aloof cat who didn’t care whether he had offended a woman’s sensibilities. Had he been in human form as a man, he didn’t think he would have been able to camouflage his embarrassment so easily.

  “So you’ve mated with Vega Bloodmire?” she whispered.

  He wasn’t usually one to kiss and tell, but the circumstances required it. He inclined his head.

  “She knows about your curse?”

  He nodded.

  “Have you tried mating with female cats?” she asked.

  He sighed, frustrated by his inability to fully explain himself. There weren’t any female cats in the area. He’d found the remains of a male cat in the forest that morning. What had been left looked as if it had been torn apart and eaten. He had a feeling the forest wasn’t safe for teenagers or cats at night.

  He hoped Imani and her friends weren’t the sort to sneak out after dark.

  * * *

  The tension in the air marked the end of the school year was near. Gertrude was busy calling students to the library to collect overdue library books. Class sets of textbooks piled higher on the counter of the library and overflowed onto wooden carts. It would only be a couple more days before the school year ended and students packed up.

  When Imani’s supposed “guardian” came to collect her, Lucifer took note it was the same Fae man with long silver hair who had attended Clarissa and Felix’s wedding, Prince Elric of the Silver Court, Vega Bloodmire’s fiancé. He had been present when the Raven Court attacked and those harpies had kidnapped Abigail.

  Lucifer yowled upon seeing the man and launched himself at the Fae.

  “No! Lucy!” Imani chased after him and tried to stop him.

  Lucifer was quicker than she was, but not fast enough to stop Fae magic. All the man had to do was look at him, and Lucifer froze midflight, his claws extended toward the man. Lucifer tried to move, but he was stuck in that launched position, inches from the man’s face.

  “What’s this? Someone’s familiar,” Elric asked, stepping out of Lucifer’s path and examining him.

  Imani reached him, trying to remove him from his position, but she was unable to move him either. “I’m taking care of him. He’s Mrs. Lawrence’s familiar.”

  “Ah. I believe I remember this creature.” Elric guided Imani away by an elbow. He raised a hand at Lucifer. “Behave.”

  He released his spell, and Lucifer continued hurtling through the air, only there was no one in front of him now. He crashed into the wall, bounced off with all four legs, and twisted to land on the ground again.

  Imani rushed to him and hugged him. If it hadn’t been for her sweet nature, he would have clawed her to get to the man, but he didn’t want to hurt her.

  “Can we take him with us to your estate?” Imani asked. “I can make him behave.”

  The man’s eyes changed from violet to the yellow-green of a cat’s. “I’m afraid even magic won’t make that fellow behave.”

  Lucifer wished he could have told Imani not to go with this Fae. She was too naive and trusting. If she was a Red affinity as he suspected, the Fae would use her to intensify his powers. He might even be grooming her under the guise of kindness in order to make her a wife. Red affinities were the few guarantees out there who could ensure Fae would be able to sire offspring. Most likely that’s what Elric was after.

  Lucifer’s eyes narrowed. He hissed at Elric to show Imani he didn’t trust him, and neither should she.

  “Miss Periwinkle said she would take care of him, but she doesn’t understand him like I do.” Imani hugged Lucifer consolingly. “He isn’t like other cats. He’s special and needs my protection.”

  “That cat needs no one’s protection.” The man’s smile was indulgent, almost fatherly.

  Lucifer didn’t buy it for a minute.

  Elric placed a hand on Imani’s shoulder, staying clear of Lucifer’s claws. “If Ms. Periwinkle says she’s going to care for him, I believe she’s fully capable of doing so. You’ll see him again in a few short months when summer vacation is over.”

  Imani kneeled down and set Lucifer on the floor, tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Lucy.”

  He was sorry too, but only because he couldn’t stay with her to protect her from this man and other Fae.

  Abigail had been kidnapped against her will by the Raven Court. Imani wasn’t even being coerced. She went willingly, innocently believing this was for the best.

  Lucifer eyed her unzipped suitcase. He could jump inside when no one was looking so that he could hide as a stowaway until they reached their destination.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Elric said.

  Lucifer’s shoulders slumped. He could find another way to be with Imani and protect her, but if he pursued this line of action, it meant he would be leaving Gertrude Periwinkle. She had been the one Witchkin so far who had both the interest and skill to assist him.

  He prowled back and forth, considering whom it was better to remain with. Imani’s magic helped charge him better th
an other Witchkin—at least platonically—but she was a student who hadn’t learned advanced magics. If he stayed with her, she would protect him, and he would protect her.

  But he didn’t think she would be able to help him break his curse. He wouldn’t be able to turn into a man and help Abigail if he remained a cat. Reluctantly he stepped aside as the Fae man took up Imani’s suitcase and ushered her away.

  Lucifer hoped he was making the right decision.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  American Werecat in Paris

  Gertrude Periwinkle had a bowl of milk waiting for him that evening in her office as she repaired textbooks with glue that smelled of lavender. He supposed a bowl of milk meant she had bad news, since she seemed educated enough to know he wasn’t supposed to be drinking milk. He lapped it up, savoring the treat while it lasted. He could never say no to human food, even if it was as simple as milk.

  Gertrude waited until he was finished before crouching to pet him. “You mentioned Vega Bloodmire in your note. I’ve been speaking with her about your situation and how she accomplished changing you into a human previously.” She looked him up and down. “I take it that was before she was engaged to Prince Elric of the Silver Court?”

  He shrugged. He didn’t keep up with Vega’s love life.

  “I’m not Amani Plandai, nor have I ever had the inclination to learn magic for transforming into an animal.” There was a hint of disdain in her voice as she spoke, reminding him of Vega. “However, I am a Merlin-class Celestor, one of the most advanced in my affinity. I am fully capable of learning. We have about twenty days until the next full moon. That gives me sufficient time to study during the summer holiday.”

  It also gave him plenty of time to store up his magic. It would be more difficult without Imani and her friends to pet him and help him build up his affinity, but this was a start.

  * * *

  Lucifer thought that when summer vacation started, Gertrude would devote her time to assisting him break his curse. Instead she was busy checking in class sets of library books and repairing texts that had been burned, damaged by water, or were falling apart.

  One day after hunting mice in the abandoned wing of the school, he noticed the scent of a man on Gertrude. It wasn’t just on her skin and clothes, but in her room as well. He couldn’t tell who the man was, other than he was likely to be an adult from the sophisticated cologne and spicy magic that hinted at someone skilled enough to use advanced potions. He rolled across her bed, trying to soak up any excess sex energy, though he caught very little of it.

  If only he’d known there would be a librarian sexcapade. He would have been able to catch some of her sexual energy before it dissipated and used it to fuel himself to return to being human. Then again, one dose of sexual energy had worked after Felix and Clarissa’s magic moment in the Morty Realm. They were Red affinities. He didn’t know whether Gertrude’s siren affinity worked as potently.

  When Gertrude finally did put work into researching how to shift into an animal, she spent all her time reading books. She hardly petted him at all. The full moon was quickly approaching, and he didn’t think either of them were prepared.

  It was most vexing.

  Less than a week before the full moon, Gertrude announced, “I have a vacation planned in Paris for three weeks. While I’m there, I intend to go to an old bookseller who sells rare books. Are you interested in coming with me?”

  Lucifer didn’t want to go to Paris, but he didn’t want to be left alone at the school during the summer either. He sighed in resignation. He had places to go, people to see, and his princess to rescue.

  It would be a full moon soon, and he hoped Gertrude would break his curse by then. Abigail needed him.

  * * *

  For once, Gertrude left her witch hat in her room, but that didn’t mean she blended in. Even with her modest attire in charcoal grays and blacks, she stood out among the tourists. She dressed like someone’s grandmother with her conservative attire, high-necked blouses, and ankle-length skirts. Unlike an old woman, she was young and beautiful, her eyes wide with wonder as she carried Lucifer around Paris with her.

  Abigail had always taken care to blend in with Morties, to adopt their language and customs, to dress like one of them, and to keep her magic secret. She hadn’t wanted to be seen as different or an easy mark.

  Gertrude stood out like a flower among thorns, her beauty so radiant people stopped to gaze at her. Her attire was so out of place among the women in shorts and tank tops and tourists in modern attire that a Fae might recognize her for what she was and follow her.

  Which would have been fine if a Fae followed her—so long as she didn’t break their laws and resort to magic. Unfortunately, Gertrude did.

  * * *

  Lucifer had expected Gertrude would be staying in a hotel like most people when they went on vacation. Apparently, this wasn’t what witches did. After transporting herself to Paris with magic and using a portal, she found a supply closet in a shady apartment and charmed the door to take her back to her room.

  He suspected her room was no longer located inside Womby’s School for Wayward Witches. The sky had been bright with daylight when she’d left Womby’s, but dark when she’d arrived in France. After enchanting a supply closet and turning it into a portal to take her back to her room, Lucifer eyed the darkened skylight. The stars twinkling above were all wrong.

  He suspected they weren’t in Kansas anymore—or more specifically—not in the Unseen Realm, the Witchkin territory where the school was hidden from Morties.

  He noticed she was very careful in how she used magic. She kept her spells subtle and unable to be detected by Morties. She took extra care to ward her enchantments to keep them invisible to Fae. Her protective spells were strong, up to the same level as Felix’s and Vega’s.

  The only problem was her blatant use of magic in public.

  He wouldn’t have known she was endangering herself if she hadn’t carried him in her giant purse with her as she perused Paris. At a café, she batted her eyelashes at a waiter and in perfect French asked, “Are you certain this is the correct price? I think you may have overcharged me.”

  Her voice turned to honey and silk and relaxed Lucifer into complacency, even though he wasn’t the intended recipient of her magic. The siren lull of her voice was like music, and the waiter leaned in, his eyes drunk with desire.

  The waiter left, and Gertrude lessened her magic. Lucifer huffed. Abigail would never have used magic for personal gain. Even in those times when she had been too poor to afford food, she wouldn’t have magically manipulated Morties into giving her free meals. Abigail was guileless and spoke from the heart.

  He could only imagine how the Raven Court would use that to their advantage. He didn’t know what she would be like once she emerged from their castle. She might be so traumatized she would never be herself again. Lucifer fidgeted in Gertrude’s bag, restless with anxiety.

  Gertrude used her magic on Morties to avoid paying for food, but also to get into museums for free, to walk through walls to avoid waiting in lines, and to reduce the price for new clothes. Lucifer didn’t want her to influence people so that he could remain with her as she entered art galleries or restaurants, but he had no way to tell her other than acting out. If he resorted to that, she might leave him in some Morty city and abandon him because she didn’t like him yowling or clawing at her.

  It was bad enough she was immoral, but she was also careless. She used this magic out in the open where any Fae could witness it.

  Usually she remembered to ward herself, but not always. She was an accident waiting to happen.

  Lucifer needed to tell her how careless she was. It wasn’t just herself she was endangering, but him as well. He would never free himself and find Abigail if this was the guardian he was stuck with. His inability to communicate this further irritated him.

  He didn’t like the way the pigeons watched them as she went
sightseeing. When Gertrude was enjoying a latte at an outdoor café, he leapt out of her purse and massacred a group of pigeons.

  For all he knew, they might have been Fae spies. Though, in truth, they tasted too delicious to be Fae.

  “Was that truly necessary?” she asked.

  After that, every time he sensed she might be tempted to use magic, he yowled or extended his claws, trying to signal to her that he wanted her attention. He was attempting to remind her to ward herself. But Gertrude was ignorant to his gestures and body language. He hadn’t spent thirty years with her as he had with Abigail.

  Over and over he was reminded she wasn’t Abigail.

  The following day, Gertrude told him she was leaving him in her room while she went to the bookstore.

  Her lips turned down with displeasure as she eyed him. “They don’t allow pets, and even if they did, people want good pets. Not ones that yowl or threaten customers.”

  He didn’t threaten. He followed through with his promises of scratching people’s faces. Especially men in museums who leered at Gertrude and looked as if they might grope her.

  He wasn’t completely surprised when she brought a man back to her room. The man smelled of exotic flowers and earth rich with decaying plant matter. A hint of animal wafted in the air around him, the scent of magic suggesting a shifter. Perhaps a werewolf.

  Gertrude didn’t even have the decency to kick Lucifer out into the hallway so that he wouldn’t have to listen to the sounds of their carnal passions. Abigail had always ensured he was outside the bedroom when she spent time with her late husband. On the other hand, being in the room was actually to Lucifer’s benefit.

  He hunkered down under the bed, absorbing as much of their excess magic as he could. Neither were like Clarissa and Felix with Red affinities that only took one round of lovemaking to break Lucifer’s curse. Upon Gertrude’s third bout of recreational activities with the stranger, Lucifer felt the change inside him.