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“You’ll be granted everything you need to perform your duties, including some temporary magic.”
I bit back an argument. There was a lot wrong with this scenario, but also… I’d just been offered magic! How could I possibly say no to that?
“Fine,” I stated with a shrug instead. “Then I guess I accept. Can I please have my magic now?”
“Tonight at orientation. Eleven o’clock sharp.”
“Sorry, I sleep at night.”
“Not anymore you don’t.” The cat turned away from me with an irritated flick of his tail and faced the rest of his board. “Disperse.”
Everyone left except for Parker and me.
“Sorry to drag you into all this,” he said. “But take it from someone who knows, don’t mess with Mr. Fluffikins so much. Your life will be much easier if you show him some respect.”
I burst out laughing, but Parker only looked afraid.
Seriously though, what could a little black cat named Mr. Fluffikins even really do to me?
Unfortunately, I’d find out later that night.
6
After Parker dropped me off back home, I finally finished the shower I’d started what felt like a lifetime ago. Yes, it was still uncomfortably cold, but that discomfort helped me work some of the shock out of my bones. Actually, it was just what I needed.
As I toweled off, I made a mental catalog of the things I knew:
My landlady was a witch.
She’d been murdered.
Her killer was still out there.
Now I was expected to fill her emptied shoes.
That night I’d be given temporary magic.
And my boss was a talking cat.
I wrote fiction for a living—telling stories was my literal job—and still I couldn’t have come up with something quite this crazy, even if I’d tried.
In fact, if it had been up to me, I’d have chosen a much more worthy heroine to take my place, and instead of a jerky cat, I’d probably have written Parker into the authoritative role. It would make for an interesting office romance premise. Opposites attract, enemies to lovers… Yeah, it checked all the boxes for the makings of a good book.
Still, I guess that’s why people liked to say that life was stranger than fiction.
First that harlot of a PTA mom, and now this. What a riveting life I led.
Fully dried off now, I slipped into my favorite pair of jeans and an old T-shirt, then pulled on my running shoes. Did I ever run? No, don’t be silly. But it made me feel like I could if I had to, wearing shoes meant for that purpose.
Then again, if things went south with my training tonight, I might actually have to put the poor sneakers to use for the first time in their miserable lives. I shuddered. Best not to think about that.
Suited up in my inconspicuous casual wear, I headed outside and crept down the worn path to my former landlady’s main residence.
Imagine my surprise when I found I wasn’t the only one who’d had that idea.
A young woman wearing a black maxi dress with a floral printed cardigan, scuffed up combat boots, and a big floppy sunhat stood in front of the house staring up at a second-floor window. She was so immersed in her inspection that she didn’t seem to notice me approaching.
I hesitated. Would it be better if I turned back and pretended this whole thing had never happened?
