Leaves shuffle behind me, and I jump. Twisting, I see no one, though something catches my eye. There’s a cluster of worms wiggling toward my feet. Farther away where the sidewalk meets a short span of dirt, many more are rising out of it. Within seconds, they overrun the sidewalk.
Sickened and confused, I dodge through the nearest door and into Carol’s Cattitude.
It’s noisy with meows and squawks, scented like dusty litter. The aisles are cluttered, and glowing blue fish tanks line the back wall with the amphibians and reptiles not that far away.
Carol smiles, looking up from her laptop behind the cash register. “Hey, you’re here early.”
I catch my breath, freezing at the door. Unlike Adrial, her smile is soft, genuine, and kind. “Did you see the worms?”
“Worms?”
“On the pavement outside.”
She walks to the window and hums like nothing is amiss. “Must be the change in season. Did you want to see the cats?” she asks. “We have a couple of new ones.”
Carol has been running this store since before I was born. She’s in her late fifties now, always smells like clay, and is generally known as the town’s kooky cat lady. Seeing her, so typical in her oversized pink sweater with the store’s brand crackled across it with her dyed red hair, is like returning to the safety of my parent’s home before a demon joined for breakfast.
If the worms don’t bother her…
“Sure.” I smile back, falling into the safety of my lunch break routine of stopping by. I’m about to walk to the cats when a new idea strikes me. “By any chance, do you have anything that gets rid of them?”
“Worms? Earthworms? No, unfortunately.”
“What about bat houses? Do you have those?”
She squints at me. “They’re in the back, in the bird aisle. Though why don’t you ask your dad? He can probably build a nice one. Summer, is something wrong?”
“No, everything is fine.”
Turning from the front window, I approach the rescue cats. There are four today. One of them is a tortoiseshell, and she hisses vehemently as I approach. Leaving her be, I offer the back of my hand to the snowball white kitty who seems much more friendly when the shop’s door opens and the bell chimes.
Stiffening, pressure floods my senses like a rubber band around my forehead.
“Good morning,” Carol calls out. “Can I help you?”
The cats grow agitated as the door closes and footsteps sound behind me.
Adrial joins my side. “I don’t like cats.”
My back straightens, and my hands twitch. The cats take turns hissing, spitting, and growling, never taking their narrowed gazes off of him, looming over my shoulder. I don’t think they like him either.
I keep my eyes on the cats, pretending,stillpretending, that he’s maybe just a normal human. “How did you get here so fast?” I whisper. “Don’t you have work to do?”
The tortoiseshell extends her claws and bites at the bars of her cage. The tag says her name is Genevive.
He leans closer. Too close. Way, way too close. “My work can wait.”
My brands burn as his warm breath wafts over my ear. “There was a new finding this morning. Someone tried to claim property I very much desire. It changes everything. My…workis on pause until further notice.” He straightens up and speaks louder. “How about I take you out for coffee and tell you all about it?”
The hair on the back of my neck rises. “No,” I squeeze out. “I should get going.”
He never does answer my second question.
His presence looms over me, like a shadow longing to consume. I’m sluggish in his gloom, my head aching and slow. It’s difficult to step aside…
Genevive shrieks. A shrill yowl the likes of which I have never heard. Her cry pierces me, and my mind sharpens. Startled, I realize Adrial has stepped even closer, now only a hand’s width from me.
I jolt, making up my mind. I leave his hypnotic bubble and walk through the aisles, gathering kibble, a cat bed, and more. He stays near the cats, somehow ignoring their pleading mews and the way Carol occasionally glares at him from the front of the shop.
