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“You’ll be better, ’Malkin,” I whispered to my cat over and over. “You’ll be fine, little queen.” I warned away the talkative with venom in my eyes.
A black woman in a long print dress came through the front door. She wore bangles and short, sculpted hair like a fine, dark dandelion. She scanned the room, then approached me purposefully. Why me? I wanted to flee, but it was too important to stay.
“I’m Avis,” she said, sitting down beside me. “Jerry called me about your cat. Let me see.”
This was the vet, then. Reluctantly I let her take Grimalkin on her lap as the skin on my back twitched from the scrutiny of the bored and curious. The cat lay limply in a hammock of bright fabric as Avis prodded and probed. The vet lifted Grimalkin’s lips and studied her gums.
“I’m afraid you have a really sick kitty,” Avis finally said.
I know that, I thought angrily. I know that. But the words wouldn’t leave my lips.
The vet patted my knee as if she read my thoughts and understood. “Her kidneys are enlarged,” Avis continued. “And she’s in shock. My best guess is that she’s been poisoned.”
I rose to my feet faster than a mortal, ready to kill whoever would dare, and the vet cringed, surprise and fear on her face. “N-not on purpose,” she stammered. “Something she found. Like antifreeze. It’s sweet, cats like it, but it causes permanent damage.”
Antifreeze. I thought of the cans I’d moved to a corner of my den when I first took possession. It was possible. Why the hell hadn’t I thrown them away?
A tremor passed through Grimalkin’s body, and the cat let out a yowl, causing me to drop to my knees. Avis let me reclaim her. “I’m sorry. I think she’s dying of kidney failure,” the vet said gently as I buried my face in Grimalkin’s fur.
“There’s nothing you can do?” I asked, raising hopeless eyes, already knowing the answer.
Avis shook her head. “It’s best now to put her out of her pain. I can take care of it if you like—no charge.”
“No!” I cried. And I ran from there, ran all the way home.
Back in my den, I held Grimalkin in my arms. She was alternately stiff, then limp, racked by tremors.
I couldn’t save her, and I couldn’t turn her into one such as me, even if I wanted to; there was only one thing I could give her—peace.
I had calmed wild animals in my time—soothed them a little so I could feed—but I had never turned my full power to mesmerize upon a beast. I wasn’t even sure I could. But now was the time to try. I could lull her to sleep slowly and peacefully, lure her into gentle dreams and let her go to a place where I could never follow. Trapped in this world, I would never walk a long, white tunnel and find her waiting. I would live centuries more and never see her again. At least her blood would make her part of me. A mote of her would live in me awhile.
It hurt to unsheathe my fangs—it had never hurt before.
I held her close, and ro
cked her, and whispered love until I heard a tiny purr. “Brave girl,” I said. “Brave, brave, sweet girl.” Then I bent my head as if in prayer.
I didn’t mind the fur in my mouth, it was precious to me, but the first taste of blood nearly choked me. I carried on, anyway, and wove the spell. It didn’t take long. She relaxed against me, she kneaded my chest, for a moment her purr grew large, and then it was gone. The blood ceased to flow, and she was but a shell.
I hadn’t known that I could cry.
It was time to move on, I knew that now. I had to go far from this place that had seduced me. If not for a little cat, I would have become the demon I had fought so long not to be. But she had ruined me. No matter where I went, I would yearn for love now I remembered what it was, and where would anyone such as I find love again?
THE SILVER KISS
1
Zoë
The house was empty. Zoë knew as soon as she walked through the front door. Only a clock ticking in the kitchen challenged the silence.
Fear uncurled within her. Mommy, she thought like a child. Is it the hospital again—or worse? She dropped her schoolbag in the hall, forgetting the open door, and walked slowly into the kitchen, afraid of what message might await her. There was a note on the refrigerator:
Gone to the hospital. Don’t worry.
Make your dinner. Be back when I can.
Love, Dad.
