“That seems to be the consensus, yes,” Kierston replied humorously, trying not to turn beet-red again, and failing.
Maggie paused. “And just how do you know that information, young lady?”
Cheeks flushed, Kierston hurriedly stammered, “You told us about it the other night at book club. Remember?”
“I don’t, but if you say so,” the older witch accepted with a sniff.
“Is there anything else I should know about the process?” Kierston pressed, her green gaze glued intently on the phone set in the center of the table.
Maggie made a humming noise. “I seem to recall something about the Blood Moon having the ability to super charge the entire situation. Seeing as though we have one coming up, that too could play a big role in triggering a sleeper omega. However, I can’t be certain, as, like I’ve said, wares don’t make great scholars and rarely chronicle anything of import.”
“Well, I appreciate how thorough you were with your response,” Kierston replied. “I knew if anyone had information on this topic, it would be you.”
I could hear the witch practically preening over the line at the compliment. “Thank you, Kierston. I really appreciate that. Not many people understand the importance of my area of study. They think it’s simply interspecies gossip. But these issues are important to our communities’ longevity and prosperity. If I don’t do it, who will?”
“Uh huh,” Kierston agreed, angling to get off the phone now.
“Anyways, I’m so glad you called. I was going to reach out to you about this Saturday evening. Craig and I were planning on attending an outdoor Wicca festival, and he was hoping you’djoin us. The two of you would just make the most precious couple. Don’t you think?”
Kierston winced and intentionally ignored Mad Dog’s heated stare. “I’m working at the bar on Saturday but thank you for thinking of me. I’ll see you at book club next month, okay?”
Hanging up before the older witch could further discuss her and Craig’s future marriage potential, Kierston let out a pent-up breath.
“So, it looks like it’s going to take more than sex to change, Cat,” she stated, trying not to flush any more than she already was. “It seems like it’s going to take sex, a bite, a knotting, and the upcoming Blood Moon to seal the deal.”
That wasn’t going to be a problem. We’d be having a hunt the night of the Blood Moon. It was a way for the pack to burn off some steam and mingle during a very hormonally charged time. And now, Cat was going to be our guest of honor.
Thanking Kierston for her help, my brothers and I left the bar for the parking lot. As I was putting on my helmet, Blitz said, “How do you think Cat’s going to take finding out she’s a shifter?”
Swinging my long leg over my bike, I sighed. “Like you told me earlier today, only one way to find out.”
CHAPTER 19
0days to the Blood Moon
Cat
As I stepped into Sliver’s car after work, I noticed that he was alone. “Riding solo tonight?”
“Yeah, with everyone preparing for the party over at the clubhouse, we’re kind of shorthanded,” he explained.
I felt bad to be such a burden. “You didn’t have to come and get me. I could have driven myself.”
Sliver grinned big. “Nah, I’m grateful I’m driving you. Ringo drew the short straw and had to clean toilets.”
I erupted into laughter. “That stinks.”
“Literally!” He teased. “He sent me a few pics earlier, and let’s just say some of the guys need to see a doctor ASAP!”
As soon as we got back to my apartment, I spotted an orange stray lovingly named Butter Bean by the people who lived inthe complex. The fat tom cat was sitting on the top stoop and cleaning his front paws like he owned the place.
Butter Bean was a friendly, albeit streetwise, orange tiger that had been part of a catch and release program that neutered strays. Once they’d been given a clean bill of health, the volunteers freed them back onto the streets where they were most comfortable.
Everyone in our complex fed the sassy tom cat and his plump physique attested to a life well lived. Whenever Butter Bean needed to go to the vet, the lady in 5B, who had three cats of her own, volunteered to catch him and bring him to hers.
As I approached the oversized orange menace, he stopped cleaning himself and hurriedly got to his feet.
“Hey there, handsome,” I cooed, as I usually did. Unlike usual, the hair on his back rose, taking on the distinct appearance of a mohawk.
