Surprise fills his face. “Okay, but how powerful is he? I couldn’t sense anything from him, so my guess is that he’s pretty new to the game? Not strong enough to pull this off—even if it were possible.”
I sigh. He’s right. I’ve never seen Matthias perform magic. I have no idea how powerful he is. And Kit’s a cat. I groan and put my head in my hands.
“Please leave me alone. I don’t know what you are expecting from me.”
He nuzzles my hand with his head, and I instinctively move it to stroke him. A rumbling purr emanates from his little body.
“I want to apologize for what I put you through. I didn’t mean…I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“You were trying to protect me. I understand. Though, I’m not too jazzed about you ignoring my direct request to leave me be.”
“Sorry. Demon. Low sense of moral integrity.” He lies down with his little head on my lap.
My lips press together as I peer at him. God, he’s a fucking cat. “I’m sorry I sent you to Hell. Really. I know how much you hate it down there. I know what that place did to you.” My fingers continue to brush over his head. “I’m glad you got out.”
“As soon as possible.” He lets out a little sigh that is absolutely adorable. “I should have stayed, though. I was already down there. I should have…never mind. Doesn’t matter.” He picks up his head. “I’ll get out of your hair. You’ll never see me again. I know that’s what you want.” He backs away from me. “Oh, and this cat doesn’t belong to anyone. You can keep her.” Kit offers me one last long look, eyes going fully dark, tiny horns appearing on his head. “Goodbye, Lacy.”
“Bye, Kit,” I whisper as yellow smoke explodes out of the cat’s body.
When he’s gone, the cat looks around confused before jumping down from the couch and hiding underneath it. Nowthatis typical cat behavior.
thirty-four
. . .
I spendthe rest of the night editing my video, though I will admit that I also reread that article about a thousand times. Bringing Kit back to life...that would be impossible, right? And, ugh, who would it be for? It would be for me, right? Not him.
But…I think itwouldbe for him. I think he wants this. He’s a demon. He has free rein to do literally anything he wants, and still, he seems deeply unhappy. If this works, it’s not like I would be pulling him out of a life he loves. I’m not saying he hates every part of being a demon, but considering everything I know about him, the humanity he has chosen to hold on to, I know he wants to be human again. I know it.
I haul my attention away from the article and fully close out of it. Kit was wrong when he said that there is none of his soul left. It is so clear to me that fragments, rather large ones at that, remain. However, he was correct when he said I’m not a witch and that Matthias might not be strong enough on his own.But…I go into my history and pull the article back up.
I can’t just forget about this. If there is a chance, any chance, of bringing Kit back, I want to do it.
I fought for myself. Now, I’m fighting for him.
I take Hazel,the cat, to the vet the next day. The vet does not find a chip, so Kit must be correct about her not belonging to anyone. I’m not sure I’m ready for the responsibility of providing for another living being, but I did already buy all of the supplies, and the vet gave me a free mouse toy to take home, so I may as well.
Also, clearly, I’ve already named her.
There’s an overwhelming stab of guilt in my chest when I have to leave for work that afternoon. I almost ask if I can bring Hazel (because every good independent bookstore needs a cat, right?) but then I remember that my boss is severely allergic. I also don’t want to leave her to roam my apartment by herself. Our relationship has not yet reached that level. So, I lock her in my bedroom with food, water, and her litterbox. I hate myself. I am a terrible cat mother.
Eventually, I do manage to leave her.
Work is normal. I help customers, I restock shelves, I research how to help Kit on my breaks—finding nothing useful. The spell still seems to be my only option.
However, he would be angry with me if I spent more time trying to help him than working on my submission.
After a week of near constant editing, cutting and restoring the video—honestly way longer than I normally spend—I am finally happy with the end result. I have the moving flashlightin the kitchen, the knock knock conversation with the bathroom ghost, and the finale, my chat with Violet. While the camera managed to catch her entire apparition, I ended up cutting it down, removing the flash of blonde hair. I did so after a long time debating with myself, figuring it looked too real to be considered real. It’s okay, because I also have the full-body video in the thermal cam, which is remarkable footage.
If I’m awarded this pilot and catch something like that again with witnesses, maybe it’ll make the final cut. However, I’m aware that when it comes to the supernatural world, it doesn’t matter if you shove the evidence down someone’s throat or practically beat them senseless with it. If they don’t want to believe, they won’t.
I’m trying to make something for the believers and non-believers alike, so what I end up with has the perfect amount of hard evidence that can be easily explained away by anyone who refuses to open their mind up to the possibility of ghosts. Perfect.
I save the final video, though I do still keep all of the bits I cut, even if they’re just for myself. I fill out the application that goes along with the video submission, despite having filled it out like twenty times since I originally found the contest, and save that, too. I watch the video one more time before I officially submit it, making sure there is nothing I missed. And, I have to admit, I am also looking for Kit in my eyes. I’m always looking for him, even if I don’t realize it.
I need to submit this entry now. The deadline is midnight ET, and it is 11:32 p.m. I finish the video, decide there is literallynothing else I can do to make it better, reread my application again—and catch a typo, so thank god—and then click submit. I do it quickly so I can’t take it back, slamming my finger down on the touch pad that just needs to be tapped. The little circle spins over the button, then a page pops up that says my entry has been submitted and that if they are interested, I will be contacted by them personally. If they are not interested, I will receive a generic rejection email. I mean, it doesn’t say thatexactly. It says “all applicants will be contacted regardless of decision,” but I know what that means.
I go search for the cat and find her lounging on my bed. “Hello, gorgeous,” I say as I lie down beside her. I expect her to get up and run away, like she has every time I’ve attempted this, but she shifts into loaf form, looking a little annoyed by my presence but overall unbothered. Progress with a capital P.
