“We’re just here for some information we overheard,” Trevor said as he brushed the sofa off free of cat hair before motioning for me to sit. I stared at him, refusing to move. He rolled his eyes, plopped down and made himself comfortable.
“Information you overheard…” She muttered as if she was clueless. “My cats talk amongst themselves and gossip abouttheir lives and the different families, but I can’t imagine what you heard that would be worth coming all this way….”
“We were told witches are gathering,” I said as I continued to stand. “Given the tension in the Underground and the growing hatred for the First Family, we are trying to find out what we can in order to protect ourselves.”
The woman sat down across from Trevor and tucked one leg underneath her, showing the black soot covering the bottom of her foot. You could see a hint of her underwear, but I’m certain she wanted that to be shown in front of him. Everything she did was almost cat-like in the way she moved her head, blinked her sharp eyes, and smiled as if her whiskers were twitching.
“If you had a familiar, you would be aware of such things,” she countered calmly with a smile.
“We have a baby,” Trevor said. “I don’t know if–––”
“I have several that are perfectly fine with children. As a matter of fact, I know the exact familiar for you and your agency. She’s loyal, kind, intelligent, and very protective.”
“Agency?” I repeated.
“Mortal Affairs, you are Himora, and you are…Trevor. You work with a Dubois and Martin, yes?”
Trevor and I said nothing. It wasn’t exactly a secret, but the information wasn’t easy to come by either. The woman tapped the side of her ear with a smirk.
“They talk amongst themselves. As soon as you step in, they talk. Cats are not as social as dogs but what they lack in community, they make up for in brains. Mine are bred specifically for the most exclusive magical families whether they partake in the dark arts or want to live a peaceful life above ground. I specialize in families with children and elders as well.”
“We are not here to buy,” I stated with a stern tone. “All we need is information on what’s being said. Nothing more. I don’t want to waste your time any further than you have already wasted ours.”
Trevor cut me a look as the woman cracked a smile.
“Well then I really don’t know what to tell you.” She said softly. She leaned back into the chair and began picking at her nails. “They talk but it's usually just chatter and gossip…Nothing worth repeating.”
She cut her sly eyes at Trevor who immediately cleared his throat. She wasn’t going to talk unless we bought something.
“Show me what you got,” Trevor said with a sudden forced glee as he clapped his hand. “Maybe we can find a kitten for my baby girl…”
“I know just the one,” the woman said as she stood up with a grin as wide as a Cheshire cat. She opened the door where several cats stood just outside waiting to get in, but I could hear other voices, human voices. “Show him to the kitten kennels, Mercy!”
“Yes ma’am!”
The woman came and sat back down after closing the door and motioned for me to sit across from her, but I remained standing.
“You faes are so pretentious,” she muttered, pulling out a box of cigarettes. She took her time to light the end before inhaling as the quiet burning sound of paper filled the air until she exhaled the thick smoke. “You know the ability to speak and hear them speak is the mark of a Bastet born.”
“I’m aware of the ideology,” I said with an adjustment of my glasses.
“Ideology,” she repeated with a smirk before taking another pull on her cigarette. “I am one of the daughters of Bastet…Very few can understand and speak feline like me…”
She enjoyed her cigarette as she blew out another plume of smoke before sighing. Of course, she believed she was the daughter of an ancient cat God.
“There is chatter amongst the familiars across different breeds,” she said as she cut her eyes at me. “They always talk like cleaning ladies of the big fancy home. They talk about their owners, they talk about the guests, they talk about everything…If you’re born with the gift of hearing them speak in their native language, they are some of the chattiest mothafuckas around.”
Her tone completely changed from sweet innocent southern buyer to raw and blunt as she tucked her leg underneath her once more.
“Witches are starting to gather,” I repeated. “What does that mean?”
“Exactly what it says… They are starting to come together… The cats that are sent out on days or week’s worth of work always come back and tell everything. Of course, they only speak to one another and know not to repeat to other families but sometimes, the ones who are only borrowed, let it slip from time to time…”
My brows raised as she smiled. Turning her head to the side to draw from her cigarette, her eyes never left me when her lips curled on the white paper before blowing loose smoke through her teeth.
“You can rent a familiar for a day or two, yes. I allow it. This is how they get experience. Not every witch comes from wealth but those who are working need help. You can borrow my babies if you like,” she shrugged. “Don’t bother me none if the money is right. They come back sometimes late at night, and you can hear them talking amongst themselves about what they’ve seen and heard…. from killings, to arguments, cheating, and as of late…witches gathering…”
She rolled her neck from side to side as her legs drew closer to her body like a cat curling up in the chair. I could see her toes flex as the nails extended out before sucking back in like claws coming and going.
