Page 105

"Hey!" Natalie exclaimed indignantly. "That's not very nice! I took you in after Nana Cordelia died. I could have taken you to the animal shelter, you know!"

Bartleby looked at her coolly.

"You took me because you wanted a familiar," he replied. "Sorry that didn't work out for you, since you have no magic."

Oh, boy. That was probably the worst thing he could have said. Natalie's face turned bright red, and I could actually see her grinding her teeth. For a moment, I thought she might pick him up and throw him into the nearest bush.

Not that I would have let her, of course. Bartleby was my familiar now, and I was beginning to feel rather protective of the sarcastic little beast, despite his unfortunate habit of saying exactly the wrong thing at exactly the wrong time.

I gave him my most meaningful shut up! look. He stared back at me for a moment, his golden eyes unblinking. Then, apparently deciding that he'd caused enough trouble for one morning, he rose to his feet and stretched again.

"Well," he remarked mildly, "I suppose I might as well see whether there's anything edible in the kitchen."

He trotted past Natalie and into the house as though he owned the place. Which, considering he'd lived there for five years, I supposed he probably thought he did. Natalie watched him go, looking as though she was seriously considering murder.

"That cat!" she exclaimed. "I cannot believe he's been able to talk all this time and never said a single word to me!"

"Well, you know how cats are," I said, trying to sound soothing. "They're kind of particular about things."

"Particular?" she repeated incredulously. "He just told me I wasn't interesting enough to talk to!"

"Yes, well…" I hesitated. "Maybe he's just in a bad mood."

Natalie gave me a look.

"He's a cat, Celeste!"

"Cats have feelings too," I said patiently. "And I was pretty surprised myself when he started talking."

She folded her arms across her chest.

"And now he's your familiar."

"Apparently," I admitted. “But look—you’re not really missing out on anything. Everything he says is sarcastic.”

“Still, at least he talked to you. He gave me the silent treatment for five long years,” she snapped.

“I’m sorry,” I said helplessly. But really, what could I do? I hadn’t begged Bartleby to talk to me or to be my familiar—he had decided those things all on his own. I’d had nothing to do with it, but I could tell Natalie wouldn’t believe that.

For a long moment, she just stared at me. Then she turned abruptly and marched back towards her front door.

"Come on. I need to finish getting ready or we're both going to be late."

I followed her, hoping Bartleby wouldn’t make any more snide remarks. But as I stepped into her house, I couldn't help glancing down at my purse again. The Blackthorn key was safely tucked away inside, and I found myself wanting to keep it there.

I wasn't sure why I felt apprehensive about the key. After all, Natalie was my coworker and, until recently, I'd considered her a friend. She'd invited me to her Halloween party, and now she was doing me a favor by giving me a ride to work. There was no reason I shouldn't trust her. Was there?

I pushed the thought away and followed her into the living room, where Bartleby was already making himself comfortable on the couch.

"Make yourself at home," Natalie muttered sarcastically as she hurried towards the hallway.

"Thank you," he replied pleasantly. "I believe I shall."

I couldn't help smiling. Honestly, that cat was going to get himself into trouble one of these days! But then I looked at my phone again and my smile faded.

I had to get to work. I had to convince Angie that I was still a valuable employee who deserved to keep her job, even though I'd missed an important presentation and disappeared for nearly two days. And somehow, I had to do all of that while wearing an oversized orange T-shirt and black yoga pants.

Wonderful. Just wonderful.