“We won’t know until we try.”
“But it’s acat.”
“Maybe it used to be.” I watched as the cat stalked closer, keeping its body low to the ground. “I think Jenny’s softheartedness is rubbing off on you.”
He drew back like I’d spat in his face. “It is not!”
The not-a-cat pounced again. I dodged and slashed...but turned my blade at the last moment. Instead of cutting the creature in half, I smacked it with the flat and knocked it to the ground.
Maybe Jenny had rubbed off on me, too.
Ronnie circled to my left, trying to flank the ex-cat.
The next attack was different. Rather than leaping for my face, the thing charged my legs like a bull. I stepped aside, but the tail whipped around my ankle and yanked me off balance.
Ronnie lunged.
I shouted for him to stop, but I wasn’t quite fast enough. The tip of his baton sank a good two inches into the cat’s slimy flesh, sending electricity through its body...and through mine.
I felt like I was being punched everywhere at once by a professional boxer.
“Shit!” Ronnie yanked the baton out and jumped back. “I’m sorry!”
Every fiber of my body was twitching, and not in a fun way. Muscles cramped and tightened like they were trying to snap my bones into bite-sized bits.
The cat wasn’t much better off. Its stiffened tentacles looked like black icicles. It crawled away, twitching and spasming.
Sensation and control were coming back. I pushed myself up just as the cat shook itself and let out a low, gurgling growl.
I crouched lower.
The cat leaped...directly into my oncoming fist. The poor thing spun backward end over end before hitting the ground.
It stood, wobbled, and fell onto its side.
I stepped around the cat and opened the back door. “Jenny?”
“Are you back already? That was quick.”
I wasn’t in the mood for her jokes. “There’s an unconscious mutant cat in the parking lot. I did the fighting, so you get to handle cleanup.”
• • •
We took Ronnie’s van. I didn’t trust myself to drive until my muscles stopped twitching, and I wasn’t about to let him behind the wheel of my BMW.
Jenny texted me as we were approaching Blake’s house. She’d simply written:??!!
I replied with two emojis: an angry cat face and a shrug.
“Do you think we’ll have to fight more demon-cats?” Ronnie’s excitement was palpable. I could practically smell the adrenaline flowing through his system.
“Morewhat-cats?” I asked.
He reddened. “Sorry, I meant shoggoth-cats.”
“We’re not starting a corrupted pet rescue, if that’s what you’re asking.” I couldn’t be too annoyed at his eagerness for action. I’d been the same way. That rush, whether it was the tension of following a suspect or the physical exertion of fighting a shifter hit man for the mob, was what had gotten me hooked on the supernatural PI gig. On my best days, the work had been almost as satisfying as sex, without the inevitable emotional fallout from my partner.
The front door opened as we pulled into Blake’s driveway. Blake and Ava stood just inside. Anger and fear wafted off them both.
