* * *
Another waste of magic, but I can’t have Jeff thinking I need him. Jasmine walked up to the door, legs stiff and tail waving at the sky. Jeff had an interesting idea and didn’t apologize for it. Imagine a demon thinking. What is this world coming to? She sat on the mat before the glass door and stared at it. When it didn’t open automatically, she meowed.
The doorman glanced down and blinked in surprise. It wasn’t everyday a cat demanded entry. He stepped forward, sure she would run off. When she didn’t even twitch, he knelt next to her. “Sorry, sweetheart. You can’t go in. The mistress doesn’t like strays. She barely tolerates the guests’ animals.”
Jasmine stood up and walked to the potted plant closest to her. She jumped into the potted palm and reached up. Her claw sank into the bark almost an inch. She pulled her paw down and enjoyed the feeling of destroying that woman’s property, no matter how small. She dimly heard the ‘hey stop’ from the doorman and saw him reaching for her. She pulled her claw out of the plant and ducked under his outstretched arms before she raced for the corner behind him. There has to be a way in. Slowly a plan percolated through her brain. She peeked around the corner looking for a customer who had too much baggage.
Twenty minutes later, a stretch limo pulled up to the door. She watched the doorman step forward and opened the car door so an elegant lady could climb out. Jasmine wasn’t interested in the woman. She focused on the back of the car. The driver had circled around, opened the trunk and now was unloading a mountain of luggage.
This is it. Slowly, Jasmine stalked down the sidewalk, crouching close to the wall. She reached the first trolley buried under a mountain of suitcases and crept under it. While the doorman opened the door for the lady, Jasmine climbed the mountain until she was sitting on top. A young man, resembling a dancing monkey, smiled at her before he started pushing the trolley. As it rolled through the door Jasmine raised a paw and waved at the doorman so she could enjoy his look of dumbfounded surprised.
She watched the doorman turn to the lady and say, “Ma’am, you need to crate your cat. Loose animals are not allowed in the lobby.”
The lady turned around as Jasmine ducked behind a large hatbox, but not before she recognized Cassandra. She slipped off, landing on the ground and scrambling under the trolley.
“What cat?” asked Cassandra.
Jasmine grinned as she imagined the doorman trying to find her. She stayed under the trolley until it turned into the elevator. Darting across the floor, she aimed for a corridor behind the tall counter. Why did they put a counter in the middle of the floor? It’s in the way, she whined to herself as she dodged around a marble pillar and dashed into the hallway. It took her less than a second to notice the changes. Instead of marble columns and plush carpets surrounding stone walkways and luxurious fountains, there was an ugly rug and whitewashed walls. There wasn’t even a picture to break up the monotony.
Jasmine shrugged. She didn’t need beauty; she just needed a quiet place so she could study her map. After a few steps, the hallway began to bore her. She squeezed her eyes shut and bolted down the hall. She did not want to see the ugliness anymore. A few steps later Jasmine hit something hard. She sprawled on her stomach and blinked open her eyes. What hit me? She stared at a white brick inches from her face. Oh, the wall. That figures. What went wrong? Usually I can sense corners without any difficulty. She stared at the wall a few minutes longer before an idea crept into her mind. Wrong? Murphy. Of course! He’s still messing with my mission. She huffed out a breath and vowing utter destruction on the hapless demon, she pushed against the floor, burying her claws in the ugly flower printed border.
If Murphy is still playing games, then the next door will most likely be the kitchen because it’s the last thing I’m looking for. Chances of Aaron being there are slim to zero. She shrugged her shoulders and bounded down the hallway, keeping her eyes opened this time. She didn’t want to meet any more corners head on.
This area didn’t seem to be popular. Between the white walls and the flowered carpet, Jasmine really couldn’t blame anyone for not coming down here. Deciding the place was deserted enough. She sat in the middle of the hall and pawed at her collar. Mist started to expand from the emerald. It spread up the wall and started to form a map of the interior of the hotel. The picture solidified and Jasmine could just make out a pale yellow dot further along the corridor, when footsteps sounded behind her. She focused on the mist, cramming it back into the emerald. She didn’t dare waste magic since there wasn’t any more. Once again, she cursed Murphy for everything. If she’d just been able to grab a new collar, she wouldn’t have this trouble. She could let the map dissolve and go on her way, but today she was stuck with no choice. She started cussing which, thanks to her cat suit, came out in a series of growls and meows.
“Oh, a cute little kitty,” cooed a voice behind her.
Jasmine spun around, hoping all the map was inside the emerald.
“And who do you belong to, cutie?” the voice continued.
Before Jasmine could focus on the owner, she felt her paws leave the carpet. Soon she was squished to the front of a large and well-endowed woman who smelled faintly of fish. To her horror, Jasmine’s mouth started watering. It occurred to her that she couldn’t recall the last thing she’d eaten. Suddenly she was starving. Her stomach growled.
The woman laughed and hugged her. “Poor little thing. Hilda will find you something to eat.”
Jasmine was carried back down the hall. Instead of cutting across the lobby, the woman slipped into an adjacent hallway identical to the first. At the end of this one, a pair of doors swung violently on their hinges. “They should have made them revolving doors with that much action,” She muttered at Jasmine’s ears.
Hilda pushed through the doors and headed for the oven. From Jasmine’s position, she could see nearly the entire kitchen. One wall housed an oven, but to call this monster an oven didn’t do it justice. It wasn’t just huge. It was gigantic. Jasmine could imagine this monstrosity sinking ships before they even left land. And Hilda was heading right for it. Jasmine started to squirm. The closer they got to the oven the bigger the window in the front looked until Jasmine was sure it was really a large hungry mouth and the woman was really a slave sent to feed it.
Ignoring the cat’s struggle, Hilda threaded her way through the chaos of the kitchen. About halfway across the floor, she took a sharp right turn and headed for a table pushed against the wall. She pulled a chair out from under it and plopped Jasmine down. “Stay there,” she said as she bustled away.
Jasmine blinked at the retreating back. Has she ever dealt with a cat before? She snorted at the thought of staying put. Debating on jumping down, she stood on the chair and surveyed her surroundings. The chaos swirling around made her change her mind. Maybe Hilda knows what she’s doing after all.
A few minutes later, Hilda returned laden with a bowl that had a slushy sound coming from it.
Jasmine’s ears perked up and she sat straighter. The sounds were just the beginning. Something smells heavenly, she thought. She ran that back through her head and blushed when she realized what she’d thought.
Hilda set the bowl down on the chair and laughed when the cat dived in. “Slow down, little one. You eat like a demon.” She patiently waited for Jasmine to finish before moving the bowl to the table and picking up the cat so she could sit down. “Now, lovely, who belongs to you?”
Jasmine purred. She had freaked out one human today, she didn’t need to scare another; especially one that brought her tasty things.
Hilda lifted Jasmine up and looked her in the eye. “What do we do with you?” She smiled when the cat purred louder. “I suppose we should go to the lobby. The desk will know if someone is missing their cat.” She hugged Jasmine to her as she rose. She crossed the kitchen, dodging a stack of plates carried by a busboy and a chef brandishing a knife as he berated his assistant and without a backwards look, she carried Jasmine out t
he door.
Murphy's Fury Page 5
