Page 33 of Catalyst


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No.I stopped short of telling her his name. I had a feeling in the pit of my stomach that something strange was going on.

She pulled out her phone and sent a quick message before she turned back to look at me, grinning. It looked alien on her face, and her eyes were emotionless. It made me wary. “What’s the demon’s name?”

Why are you so curious about him in particular?

“I’m interested in a creature I’ve read about. Sue me,” she huffed and folded her arms across her chest. “I don’t understand why you won’t tell me his name. It’s not a big deal.”

Because you are acting strangely.

“You don’t trust me.”

I trust you with my life. You’re my entire world. But I don’t trust Mary. I don’t trust this mysterious project. And I don’t trust your single-focused interest on just one of Charlie’s guests.

“I can’t believe you, Clawds. The one time I’m asking you to help me, and you’re treating me as though I’m a stranger.”

You are acting like one.I thought about all the extra magic we had been doing. How it had drained me, but I still did it. And now she was saying I do nothing for her.

She was silent for a moment. “I just need his name. Please.”

I don’t think I should tell you.

“Fine.” She stormed away from me, opened the back door, and slammed it behind her as she went into the garden.

My stomach sank. Winnie and I had never had an argument like that before, and for a second, I contemplated whether I was wrong to keep something so trivial from my witch.

Surely his name couldn’t hurt anyone.

I moved to the cat flap, my soul hurting with the need to make it better, but stopped. I wasn’t wrong. Winnie had been acting strangely, and while I understood she couldn’t tell me anything about this mysterious project, I didn’t see why she would have such a strange reaction to Savida. I shook my head. A cat’s brain wasn’t made for feats of logic, and so I hid and licked my wounds rather than contemplate the problem at hand. Or paw.

* * *

After a nap under the chair,I woke up when a hand touched me. I tensed and then calmed, realizing it was Winnie. I opened my eyes to see her big brown ones staring back at me. They shimmered with unshed tears.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “This project is really weighing on me, and I’m taking it out on you. Forgive me?”

I sighed, my heart relieved to let go of the distance between us.Of course I forgive you.

“Thank you. I really don’t want this thing to come between us.” She stopped stroking me and pulled away. “I’ve made you a snack if you still want it.”

A snack? What kind of snack?

“It’s bacon.”

Wow! Yes, please.I darted out from under the chair and stretched on my way to the kitchen. Winnie placed the bowl in front of me, and I shoved my head in without thought or hesitation. Bacon to my cat tongue was pure heaven. Bacon was life.

But I realized a few bites in that the bacon smelled funny. It was subtle but definitely there. It didn’t taste any different.

I looked up to question Winnie—my witch, my sister, my life—and read the guilt on her face and the emotion eating at her soul.

What have you done?I asked, panicked.Winnie, is this bacon magicked?

“No. No.” Her voice pitched higher, and her fingers twitched. At least, I thought they twitched. A cloud descended over me, and I realized it wasn’t a cloud. My eyesight was blurring.

Winnie? Winnie! My eyes. I can’t see. What have you done? Why have you done this?

“Your eyes? The spell didn’t say anything—”

I heard her panicked mutterings as I tilted to the side, my paws spread to catch me.

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