Kitty Wishes

Evernight Publishing www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright© 2011 Dahlia DeWinters

ISBN: 978-1-927368-02-2

Cover Artist: Jinger Heaston Editor: Emma Shortt

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

DEDICATIO( Though the act of writing is usually a solitary pursuit, rarely does a book make it to completion without the support of many. To that end I’d like to thank the following: To Jeri, who got me started reading romance and whose cat gave me the idea in the first place. To Junebug66 and Onimosity, who read and commented on super short notice and tolerated no whining. And most of all to my dear husband whose unwavering support, love and tolerance of my hours at the computer brought this all to fruition. Much love to you all!

KITTY WISHES

Dahlia DeWinters Copyright © 2011

Chapter One The letter was written on what seemed like regular copy paper that had been burned around the edges, probably to give it a more mysterious look. Sakaria Thorpe unfolded it cautiously, wondering what on earth it could be. The scent of charred paper tickled her nose as she scanned the badly written words with a growing feeling of bemusement. Warning to the reeder of this note. Prepare yourself. You have been cursed. You will turn into a cat a dais after Halloween. Be warned. W.K. Sakaria tossed the letter on to the blond wood of the sideboard in the dining room, and laughed out loud. Far too sensible to believe in curses, spells or witchcraft she strolled into her cozy yellow kitchen, shaking her head, her socks making no sound on the polished hardwood floor. The morning sun shone brightly through the white lace curtains, further dispelling her belief in the curse. How could she be cursed when the sun beamed so beautifully? She peeked out of her kitchen window, momentarily calmed by the view of the colorful autumn woods. Sakaria gave an exasperated sigh as she reached for the refrigerator handle, suddenly realizing exactly who WK was. One date with the guy, one lousy, horrible date, and now this? An absurd and rambling letter? Besides, it was already four “dais” after Halloween and she wasn't a cat yet. Apparently, the dude had trouble with time. She sighed again. He had trouble with a lot of things. Sakaria paused, her hand on the fridge handle. Maybe she should call the police, but for what? A stupid half-burned letter that

declared in a rather roundabout way she was going to turn into a cat? It was weird, but not very threatening. Best to just forget about it. By the time she had finished breakfast and made her way to the café, she had pushed the odd letter to the back of her mind. Friday was inventory and cash reconciliation, their busiest day, and she didn’t have any time to think any further about it. It was only when she was brushing her teeth Friday evening that the whole weird incident came rushing back to her as she met her own eyes in the mirror. Could it actually be true? o way, if it were true I’d be a damn cat by now. Stop thinking about it. People can’t cast spells on other people. Forget it! She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and finished cleaning her teeth. As a distraction, she occupied herself with a few meaningless tasks. Straightening throw pillows, rinsing dishes and scrubbing the toilet bowl. When she finally lay on her pillow, she had pushed the entire incident out of her mind. **** When Sakaria awoke the next morning she stretched lavishly, getting the sleep-kinks out of her body before opening her eyes. Somehow, that didn’t help the itchy and restless feeling that remained, even after two deep breaths. Her heart seemed to be beating unusually fast and, when she finally opened her eyes she realized that something was wrong. She was under her bed… She blinked once and then again. Was she losing her mind? Could the tea she drank last night be a bad batch, bringing on odd behavior? Hallucinations? Things were definitely not quite right. She didn’t seem as big as she should be. Her joints; knees, shoulders, elbows, even fingers and toes either seemed to be in the wrong place or simply nonexistent. Out of the corners of her eyes she saw what looked like… guitar strings… sticking out of her face. She sneezed and the sneeze sounded muffled and small. It sounded squeaky. And somehow she could smell the raw chicken parts she’d thrown into the garbage the night before. How could that be when the garbage was in the kitchen, two rooms away? Something was very, very wrong. She started to crawl from under the bed when she looked at her hand. It was a chocolate-colored, furry paw.

She stretched out her other hand. Another chocolate-colored, furry paw. Same dark brown as her hair. But... a cat’s paw. With claws, she realized, as they sprang out, unbidden. Unbelievable. She stared at her new furry appendages. I’m a cat. A freaking cat. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the realization wash over her. Her too-fast heartbeat increased and she opened her mouth to… pant. She had to calm down, her human mind thought, or she was going to have a cat heart-attack. Do cats even have heart attacks? Sakaria sat very still, afraid to move. This is not happening. I am not a cat. She glanced down at the furry paws again, her mind refusing to believe the evidence so clearly in front of her. I’m a cat. A cat! Ye gods and little fishes! Questions crowded her now furry head. How long would she be a cat? Hopefully not forever, she thought frantically. The garbage would start to really smell soon, and the kitchen window was only open a crack. If she could smell it now, it would be unbearable later. But never mind the kitchen smells. The bigger question was who would take care of her? She couldn’t very well shop for her own food. What about her house, her car, the café? Her mind raced over all the loose ends. She wished she’d told Julie about the letter. Eventually, curiosity overcame fear, and she crawled away from the dust bunnies and forgotten shoes that inhabited the darkened space under her mattress. Used to walking on four legs instead of two, the colorful throw rugs softened her fall as she tripped herself up and fell on her rump, her furry legs in a tangle. The human way of putting one foot in front of the other wasn’t going to work in this case. It was much easier when she concentrated on the placement of each paw and soon adapted to the rhythm of her new body. She wanted to see herself in the full length mirror attached to the bathroom door. The reflection allowed no further self-delusion. Staring back at her was a coffee-colored, long-haired cat with dark brown eyes. Her fluffy coat was an interesting mix of browns and blacks. Wonder if my hair would be the same color… if I ever get back to human form, that is. Sakaria opened her mouth. She watched as the mirror-cat opened her mouth too. She lifted a paw. The mirror-cat did the same. There was no disputing it. She was indeed a cat. What were the details of this curse? The letter hadn’t told her much of anything.

It wasn’t a joke, judging by the looks of the furry feline in the mirror. She looked exactly like a cat she saw in the Animal Channel documentary some time ago. The Siberian is the national cat of Russia and one of the best jumping cats in the world…. Is jumping going to be my new claim to fame? Sakaria tried to scream, but all that came out was a strangled cross between a meow and a yowl of terror as she rushed back under the bed. **** For the next twenty-four hours Sakaria paced around her house, a once familiar, cozy place full of rugs she’d latch-hooked herself, jazzy throw pillows and generally people-comfortable furniture. Now, as a cat, she noticed that it was rather cat-friendly too. The only problem was that she didn’t have anything to eat. She was able to turn on the bathroom faucet to get water, but accidently closed the drain in the process, filling up the sink basin. That was fine as it was a source of fresh water, until the second time she went to get a drink, leaping from the floor to the toilet to the sink, she slipped into the cold water, soaking herself to the skin. ot a pleasant experience. The kitchen telephone and the cell phone in her purse rang in alternating bursts. She knew it was Julie, her closest friend and partner in the café with whom she had promised to go shopping this weekend. Julie actually came by and knocked on the door while she hid under the bed, embarrassed and somehow ashamed. This wasn’t something that you could easily explain to anyone. When the spell finally broke after twenty-four hours, Sakaria came to herself on the living room sofa, naked, starving and disoriented. It was a pleasant Sunday morning and the cheerful sun streamed through the bay window. Once she had gotten over the shock, trotting and jumping around the house as a cat for the last day had been rather fun. Now, back in her human form, she felt more clumsy and awkward than ever. It was harder now to resume thinking on two legs instead of four. Sakaria tumbled off the sofa and sat on the floor in a daze. Her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn’t had anything solid to eat for the past day. Dizzy and uncoordinated, she crawled to the refrigerator and yanked it open. Still on her knees, she reached for a small container of strawberry yogurt. She tore the foil top open with two fingers and greedily sucked the contents down her throat. Her stomach cooperated for a moment, but cramped painfully when she

smelled the rotting chicken parts in the garbage. Desperate to keep the nutrients down, she clapped both hands over her nose and breathed evenly until the urge to vomit passed. Stomach calm, she pulled herself up via the kitchen doorjamb and slowly made her way to her bedroom, holding onto the wall. Finally, she collapsed on her bed, managing to pull the covers over her before falling into a deep, dreamless sleep. The next time she woke up it was dark. She fumbled for the remote and turned on the television that was mounted on her bedroom wall. According to the news channel, it was eight pm, Sunday evening. She stuck out a naked brown arm and exhaled in relief. No fur, no paws, no claws. All clear, at least for now. Throwing back the covers to go take a shower, Sakaria wondered what in the world she was going to do. **** Sakaria prided herself on the fact that she was a practical, realistic person. It was this practicality that had helped her and Julie operate the café through those lean, early years, when the customers were few and the bills seemed insurmountable. She had found solutions to those problems, so why not this one? She called Julie and dodged her questions about the weekend, telling her that she had fallen sick with food poisoning and was either sleeping or in the bathroom when she’d called. Though Julie’s tone implied her slight disbelief in her story, she didn’t press Sakaria any further. Logic told her that if she had the physical ability to change into a cat while she was asleep, she should be able to change into one while she was awake. And she was going to figure that out today. Maybe that’s not such a good idea. You could wind up a cat forever. “I could also wind up shifting at work or while driving or cooking. If I can get a handle on it, maybe I can live with it until I figure out how to get rid of it.” Her voice sounded shaky and hollow in the morning silence of the bedroom. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath to calm herself, willing away the tendrils of fear that were coursing through her veins. She needed a clear, level head or it wouldn’t work. Still wearing her pink nightshirt, a calmer Sakaria settled herself in the middle of her bed, on top of the brightly colored quilt her mother had helped her make when she was a teenager. She closed

her eyes and thought cat-thoughts. Meow Mix, kitty litter, hello kitty, nine lives, meow, be the cat. Her brow furrowed as she envisioned herself becoming a cat. Nothing happened. This is BS. She was about to open her eyes, when a cold, tingly feeling began in her fingertips and her toes. The sensation intensified, almost to the point of pain, then rushed up her arms and legs to explode at the back of her head. Her lungs seemed to convulse as she sucked in a huge breath and opened her eyes. The pink nightshirt had now turned into a cotton nest which snuggled her furry body. She breathed in her human scent, which both comforted and calmed her. Her heart wasn’t racing as it had been her first time and she was content to burrow even further into the fragrant cloth. ow I have to figure out how to shift back. She yawned, stretching her little cat jaws. The nightshirt, still warm from her body heat was making her cat-self sleepy. It was time to get up, move about and think. Sakaria paced over the soft surface of the quilt, careful to keep her claws in so they wouldn’t snag the delicate stitches. She settled on her haunches away from the nightshirt, so the temptation to nap wouldn’t overwhelm her and began concentrating again. There’s no place like home. Being human. I’m every woman. Shift! The little brown body shook with concentration as she focused her mind on reclaiming her human form. This time the shift happened a lot faster. It raced like icy lightning up all four legs to the tip of her tail and her ears. She yelped, yowled and… Sat up on the quilt blinking, naked and human. Pleased at the success of her experiment, she smiled to herself as she slipped her nightshirt over her head. If she could control the shifting, that meant she might be able to suppress it enough to make it go away for good. The least she could do was try. Facing Julie the next day was the hardest part. Though she stuck to her story about food poisoning, Sakaria caught her friend watching her out of the corner of her eye a time or two while she was in the café. As the week wore on, however, the subject of Sakaria’s mysterious illness fell by the wayside, at least for the time being. At work, at home, whenever that tingly feeling started, she’d used every bit of her will to not shift. She simply refused to allow it to take over. But it was exhausting. Therefore, awakening under the quilt the next Saturday morning meowing because it was so dark didn’t

surprise her as much as it should have. After all, she had gone an entire week fighting it off. Question was, could she extend this success long enough to keep it dormant? She was certainly going to try.

Chapter Two The track was surprisingly full at eight o'clock on a Saturday morning. It was unseasonably warm for the last week in November, but a slight breeze cooled the recreational walkers and hard core runners as it blew across the green expanse of the freshly marked football field. It was mostly women on the track this morning, Desmond observed, walking or running or a combination of both. He supposed they were either still working off the Thanksgiving calories from last week, or trying to get ahead of the Christmas cookies. He and his cousin, Ryan, sat at the top of the metal bleachers enjoying the fall breeze, a respite after their workout of a four mile run followed by bleacher runs and countless pushups. He relished the ache in his muscles. It made him feel like he had been doing something besides sitting in front of the computer screen all day. He and Ryan has established this routine in high school, when Ryan, a year older and a starting running back for the football team, bet the smaller Desmond that he couldn’t beat him in a race around the track. Desmond had beaten Ryan by at least twenty feet, surprising them both. They had been best friends after that. Tired from all the exertion and more than a little sleepy, Desmond gazed through half-closed eyes at the mountains in the distance as the breeze continued to ruffle his black hair. He contemplated going home to shower, then taking a nap. On the other hand he could see Ryan was on high alert, his eyes trained on the ladies walking the track. “Look at her in the yellow,” Ryan gestured. “She is luscious.” “You can’t tell that from way up here.” Desmond said. As a firefighter in a town that loved its firefighters, Ryan was as much of a star on the smoke team as he had been in high school football. He had no shortage of lady friends, some who moved in his life, out, then back in again. To Desmond, they were just a long line of smiling faces and willing bodies ready to serve the uniform in every way possible. Ryan called them ‘foopies’, as in ‘firefighter groupies’ but he didn’t fight too hard in fending them off. Right now he was grinning. “Oh yeah, you can. Look at the way she walks. You could learn a lot from me, if you’d just listen, cuz. So,” he leaned back. “When are you going to get back out there? It’s been, what, six

months since Angelica left?” “Eight months.” Desmond’s tone was flat. “And her name is Angela.” Angela, super busy with her ultra career-climbing life, had sought him out as an oasis from the noisy chatter she had to endure in her line of work at the insurance company. According to her, he had been the perfect companion. Not a lot of talk, but didn’t run from the restaurant check. Look at my nice boyfriend who takes care of me. When he’d finally had enough and refused to go to anymore of her “gatherings” she’d left. Angela’s cat, Desmond’s quiet companion on those nights when he’d stayed in, left too, although he’d like to think the cat would have stayed if given a choice. “Angela,” Ryan repeated, stretching his legs out. “I never liked her anyway. Too uptight. Talked too much.” “I liked the cat.” Angela had only taken the cat to spite him. She never gave the poor animal any attention besides food and water. He, on the other hand had a cat flap installed in his door just so the cat could get in and out during the day. Angela had chided him on that, saying it was a stupid move and that they would have stray cats from all over town waltzing in and out of the cat door. “She was too bossy. Where did you meet her anyway? Work?” “Yeah.” Ryan shook his head. “Never date a girl from work, Des. That’s rule number one.” When the company had offered certain departments the chance to work from home, Desmond had jumped at the chance. Office politics, the petty chit chat, the rivalries, the matchmaking attempts were annoying. He preferred the peace of working from home. No distractions, no one asking him to contribute to this fund or that fund, no forced joviality over dry cake in the office break room. Peace and solitude. Perhaps too much solitude. “You know what I want? I just want a woman who doesn’t want to be out five out of seven nights a week. I’m a quiet guy. I like being home.” “Somebody at home to bake cookies for ya?” Ryan grinned. “A little Suzy Homemaker?” Desmond frowned. He didn’t want someone barefoot and pregnant. “Not exactly. Just someone who doesn’t feel the need to… I don’t know.” He hated to admit it but whilst Angela’s vivacity attracted

him at first, eventually it wore him down with its relentlessness. Angela was never, ever off. “You need to get out more, Des. Maybe working from home ain’t so good for ya.” “You’re telling me.” He shifted position on the metal bench, felt something slide from his track pants pocket and clang against the metal supports on its way down to the grass below. “Shit!” Ryan sat up. “What happened?” “Dropped my keys.” They both peered down into the darkness below the bleachers. “We’re up high enough that they should be right near the back,” Ryan said. “So you don’t have to crawl on your hands and knees across old trash, rotten food and used rubbers.” Desmond grimaced as he got up. “Thanks for that description.” He didn’t relish crawling around in the dirt and trash and God knows what else in the shadow of the bleachers. “Be right back.” “I’ll be right here, enjoying the sights.” **** Desmond found his way around the back of the bleachers with no difficulty. The space under the bleachers was dark but he was able to locate his keys easily, the plain sterling silver rectangular tab gleaming dully in the gloom. The only problem was the yards of orange construction mesh stretched around the entire base of the bleachers, a physical keep out sign. He sighed and looked around. He could probably pull it down or somehow climb over it, but what a pain in the ass. He looked around for a stick, something he could reach through the mesh with and somehow pull the keys toward him. “Meow.” The sound startled him. It was so dark under the bleachers that he hadn’t even seen the cat sitting right next to his keys. As he watched, the cat stretched out on top of the keys, watching him. Of course, the cat would lie down on top of the keys. “Hey, cat,” he said half-jokingly. “Can you bring me my keys?” The cat sat up and stared at him, somewhat reproachfully, he thought. Then, amazingly, it picked up the keychain in its mouth. The keys tinkled gently against each other as they hung from the cat’s tiny teeth. Could the cat actually understand him?

“Fetch,” he said. “Ah… bring the keys, cat?” The cat walked two steps forward and sat down again. Staring at him. He stuck his fingers through the orange mesh, wiggled them. “Come on, kitty,” he crooned. “Bring them here.” A few more steps, more wheedling words from him and the cat came close enough to where he could gingerly take the keys from its mouth and pull them through the construction mesh. He tossed the keys in his hand for a moment, staring at the brown, long haired cat, who stared right back at him. The day was beginning to heat up; the sun beat down on his head, and he wanted to get home and take a shower. But this cat, how strange… it bringing him his keys like that. Not that he wasn’t grateful, but wow. “Thanks,” he said finally. “I owe you one, kitty.” “Meow,” the cat responded, turned and retreated into the darkness.

Chapter Three How could you tell someone, anyone that you had just been turned into a shape-shifting housecat? She supposed she should be grateful that she wasn’t changed into something that would really stand out in suburbia like a tiger or a bear. Sakaria gave a little cat sigh as she prowled along the edge of houses and through dark backyards until she made it to the downtown area, not far, as much as she could tell, from the café. She had visited around here several times in the last month after getting over her fear of leaving the house. The instinct in her to roam had driven her so crazy one night that she’d shredded the bottom of the living room drapes. After that, she’d installed a cat door and studied up on cat territorial behaviors as much as she could. She didn’t want to step on anybody’s paws. She smelled the other cats before she saw them and she approached carefully, taking a step at a time, ears laid back against her skull. She hoped she was doing it right, because there were at least five cats that she could see, gathered around what looked and smelled like a scrumptious pile of discarded steak. A fat calico cat separated itself from the group and stalked toward her, tail and ears high. Not a good sign, Sakaria thought, and sat down abruptly, mewling. The cat hissed at her in warning. Sakaria mewled again and dipped her head slightly, hoping that the calico would change her mind. Calico Cat seemed to consider the gesture, then turned and trotted back to where the other cats were eating. Sakaria trotted right after her and joined in, delicately nibbling at the steak. Not only was it pretty tasty, but it also marked a foray into the world of cats. If she could behave as they did she might have some companionship for her night travels. After participating in some community grooming with her new cat friends, Sakaria strolled in the general direction of her house. The cold December air didn’t penetrate her thick fur, but it nipped at her nose and the pavement was cool under her paws. Some businesses in the downtown area had already begun putting up Christmas decorations. She yawned, knowing that she’d have to get some sleep before she was due for work in the morning. Julie would cover for her, she was sure, but she couldn’t let her cat nightlife interfere with

the human life that actually paid the bills. Plus, she could tell Julie was working herself up into asking questions. Not for the first time, her mind traveled back to the incident of the flying keys, as she liked to call it. There she was, cooling out a bit under the bleachers, when those keys came tumbling through the air, smacking the ground only inches from her head. She could have been killed! But the keys had smelled so good that she had to see who the owner was. He was total awesome sauce, as Julie would put it. Tall, darkhaired and very well built. She could see kindness in his brown eyes and could tell by the way he spoke to her, that he liked and respected animals. Most other people would have poked a stick through the fencing to scare her away from the keys; maybe throw a rock or bottle at her for good measure. But this one didn’t. He actually asked her to bring the keys to him. How could she resist? It was the least she could do to brighten his day, given that she was never going to even see him again. She was so busy reminiscing about her key-rescue mission and wondering about the guy, who he was and other important details, that she nearly ran into the cat. He was, at least fifteen pounds or more, with wicked yellow-green eyes that seemed to leer at her. He was gray and white tiger striped, shot through with black. Sakaria stopped in her tracks and just stared at him. Holy shit. As she turned to run, he jumped on her and sunk his teeth into the scruff of her neck. She screeched in pain and tried to struggle forward but he had his entire weight on top of her. His scent filled her nostrils, a mixture of old urine and slimy garbage. Somehow she managed to scratch him with her back claws and he let go. Shaken and frightened, she sprinted to her house, not stopping until she was through her own cat door. She shifted and sat there with her naked back against the door, catching her breath. What if he followed me, she thought, and with fumbling fingers, closed the latch on the door. The cat had given her such a scare that she forgot she was now human and thus much larger than he. Gingerly, she touched the back of her neck and was relieved to see that there was no blood on her fingers. The tom’s teeth must not have broken the skin, though it certainly felt like they did at the time. “Ye gods…” she said aloud and laughed shakily. She stuck her hands

in her hair, which was loose and wild around her shoulders and rubbed her scalp. “Can’t even take a night stroll these days.” **** The shrill call of her cordless phone jerked Sakaria out of a sound sleep. Groggy and still grumpy from her encounter with the tomcat, she reached out blindly and snatched the handset from her nightstand, fumbled with the ‘ON’ button. “Hello.” Her voice was fogged with sleep. “Sakaria, this is your mother.” She cleared her throat to sound a little more human. “Hi Mom, what’s going on?” “It’s hot, as usual.” Her parents had moved to Arizona because of her father’s asthma. New Jersey’s humidity had been just too much for him. It was either move to the dry heat capital of the United States or stay on steroid medication for the rest of his life. So far, her parents were pleased and happy with their decision even though it took them away from their only child. “But it’s a dry heat, right?” She loved to tease her mother. “Not like the sticky New Jersey heat? I don’t know how you stand it, dry heat or not. Last Christmas, I was almost burnt to a crisp. Julie barely recognized me at the airport.” “Oh, Sakaria, you looked beautiful with that tan. Everyone can use color and the Vitamin D benefit is just wonderful. Your father’s asthma has improved so much that he barely needs his rescue inhaler.” “Good! I know he’s happy about that. I know he hated coughing up that cash to pay for all that medication. Pun intended.” Sakaria had always worried about her father’s health condition. It took a lot off her mind to hear that he was so much better. Her mother’s laugh echoed across the long distance lines. “Sakaria, I was calling to let you know that we won’t be here for Christmas. We’re going on a cruise.” “That sounds like fun, Mom! To where?” “I have no idea. Your father arranged it. I think he said something about Alaska. I’m just sorry we won’t see you this year for Christmas.” “Don’t worry about it. There’s enough here to keep me busy. You two need to go enjoy yourselves.” Truth was she was relieved. She didn’t know if she would even be able to fly. What if she shifted

on the plane? Plus, there were coyotes in Arizona. It was too dangerous all around. “I’m glad that you’re not upset. I was worried that you would be disappointed.” Her mother paused. “What’s up with you, young lady? How is that café going?” “It’s going well. We’re actually turning a profit and may be able to offer more benefits to the employees starting next year.” “I am so proud of you and what you’re doing.” She sighed and Sakaria knew what was coming next. If only you would meet a nice young man. “If only you would meet a nice young man.” Sakaria shifted the phone to the other shoulder, got out of bed and went to the kitchen. Her favorite toy, an orange ball with a bell inside, lay on the kitchen floor where she’d left it. She sat crosslegged on the floor in her pink nightshirt and began idly knocking it back and forth. “I meet a lot of nice young men, Mom,” she said. “They come into the café all the time.” She thought about the flying key incident. He would have been perfect, if she hadn’t had the slight problem of being a cat when she’d met him. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. Don’t be fresh.” “I’m not ready to settle down.” It was the same conversation that she and her mother always had. Her mother was pleased that Sakaria had found her own way in life. She and Julie had gone into business together on a whim and had built the rundown greasy spoon they had purchased to an upscale coffee shop and bakery that was well received in the town. Didn’t stop her Mom from pushing the family side of things though. And now the familiar conversation had a distinct undertone on Sakaria’s side. If she didn’t get this curse taken off what was going to happen to her? As it was, there didn’t seem to be any answers for her and no future that she could see. Certainly, she couldn’t get married. How would anyone explain that? There would be no nice young men in her future. Sakaria swallowed past the lump in her throat and forced some lightness into her voice. “Mom, I’ll find someone to settle down with, but you have to promise me that you won’t make him play golf with you and Dad.”

Her mother chuckled. “Oh, we won’t, sweetie. I can promise you that. Your father is very choosy about his golf partners. I barely made the cut.” She paused. “Which reminds me we have a tee time in about an hour.” “All right. Talk to you soon. Love you. Give my love to Dad. Have fun on the cruise!” “I’m sure we’ll talk before we leave, Sakaria, it’s not even the tenth. We don’t leave until the twentieth. Love you too, dear. Talk soon.” “Bye, Mom!” Sakaria clicked the end button on the handset, got up and tossed it onto the counter. By the stove’s digital clock, it was ten a.m. She was late, but still she dawdled, pushing the little orange ball with her toe. No Christmas in Arizona this year. Oh, well. Remember the coyotes; they would probably love a chunk of tasty cat meat. There’s always liquor and Chinese food at Julie’s.

Chapter Four The chimes tinkled softly as Desmond pulled open the etched glass door, holding it open as a chattering couple shouldered their way past him on their way out. Their hands were full with two huge cups of coffee and a bag full of baked goods. The café seemed busy and that was a good sign, something he needed because it was only two months into the new year and his meticulously groomed schedule was already falling apart. His old reliable Jersey diner had experienced a fire, which somehow he suspected was set by the owner, a jovial yet shifty eyed man in his late sixties. The diner hadn’t been doing that well in the past months. He missed his diner greatly. Every morning for the past year he had climbed the old, cracked cement stairs for his coffee and multigrain bagel—not toasted please—with cream cheese. It was a routine that he liked, that he needed, and to have it disrupted was a little unnerving. His parents had moved a lot when he was in elementary school, endlessly searching for a place where his father could get and keep work. That was a lost cause. He’d realized when he was ten. His father had had a bad drinking problem and keeping a steady job had been pretty much out of the question for him. He had chosen Café Dolce not on a whim, but on the fact that it had a parking space in front and that it wasn’t a terrible chain where they watered down the coffee and shipped in their baked goods from some anonymous distribution center. Some of the so-called baked goods they served at those places were no more flavorful than a chunk of Styrofoam. The rich fragrance of coffee and fresh baked pastries hung over the spacious and sunny dining area like a heavenly cloud, encouraging the customer to stay. Large, lush plants decorated the pale pink painted space, reinforcing the Zen quality of the door chimes. There were no residual Valentine’s Day decorations, meaning if they had been up, they had been taken down in a timely fashion. He’d been in a place the other day where the Christmas decorations were still up. There were three workers behind the white counter who appeared to be efficient at taking and filling orders with little delay. He joined the line, telling himself if he didn’t receive his order and get on his way in fifteen minutes, he was never coming back.

As he waited, he had studied the bewildering array of coffee and coffee combinations and had his order ready when he reached the counter. He hated when people asked questions when they were supposed to be ordering, holding up the rest of the line for their breakfast research project. Luckily, there was none of that going on. Most of the customers seemed to be regulars and knew exactly what they wanted. Another good sign. “Good morning,” the counter girl chirped, a pleasant brown-skinned young woman. Her two Afro puffs made her look like a Mouseketeer. “Welcome to Café Dolce, may I take your order ple—” She stepped backward as she spoke and bumped another worker who was walking behind her, causing him to spill hot coffee on her back. “Oooouch!” She put a hand behind her. “Justin!” “Sorry, Mandy,” the young man apologized. The girl looked back at Desmond apologetically, professional even in her slight pain. “I’m sorry, please excuse me,” she said as she ran in the back. Justin began mopping up the mess he made with the coffee while the other counter person was working with a customer on the caloric difference between half and half and non-dairy creamer. Great, Desmond thought, checking his watch. It wasn’t enough that his favorite diner probably wouldn’t be open again for a month. Nor that the routine he had carefully established for the past year was disrupted. No, he was going to be late for the monthly staff meeting on top of it all and… His thoughts stopped abruptly as his eyes took in the woman before him. “I’m sorry for the wait,” she spoke in a low, husky voice as she tied an apron around her waist. “May I take your order?” Desmond stared at her for about five seconds too long, his mind a log jam of thoughts. He’d always dismissed those love clichés, struck by the thunderbolt, hit with the hammer, as mere exaggerations of romantically inflamed minds, but right now he would attest to the fact that all of them were true. She was, in a word, enchanting. He had been at Ryan’s house one time when his little nieces and nephews had been over. Ryan had allowed them to watch some DVD or other with a princess. On the sly, Ryan had remarked that they made the cartoon princesses hot so that the fathers would have something to look at while the kids enjoyed the movie.

Here, in front of him, was the fairy princess brought to life. Her skin was the color of toffee, the smooth creamy kind that you knew would melt in your mouth the second your tongue touched it. She had lush, full lips just begging to be kissed. He noticed that she tugged on the end of a braid, which reached well past her ample breasts that couldn’t be hidden by the Café Dolce apron she wore. He couldn’t remember his order. His frozen brain struggled desperately to find the words to let this woman know what he wanted, but what he wanted at that very moment had nothing to do with baked goods or coffee. A part of him realized that he was staring much too long, but he couldn’t rouse himself from this state of incapacitation and inability to speak. To make matters worse, she said nothing, merely stared back at him as he pleaded with his brain to send the right signals. Finally, he opened his mouth. “Coffee, please.” He’d bet she smelled like sugar and vanilla and cinnamon. He wanted to find out, pull her close and bury his nose in the crook of her neck. She turned around to grab a white ceramic cup giving him a view of several more braids hanging down to the rounded swell of her bottom, accentuated by the apron ties. She turned back to him, cup held in one hand. No rings, no jewelry, he noticed. Good sign. “For here or to go?” To go, he told himself. You’ve got a meeting. “Here.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, as if she were smelling him. When she opened them they met his for a brief moment, and then darted away. “Would you like to try our Columbian coffee? It’s our featured coffee today.” He would drink crankcase motor oil if she asked him. “Yes. That sounds good.” She flashed him a brief smile. “Half and half and sugar are on the table. Would you like anything else?” He watched her carefully pour the coffee in the cup, fascinated at her skill and dexterity. No one had that expert-coffee-pouring technique. Did she ask him a question? “Excuse me?” “Would you like anything else?” Yes, he thought. But not here. He cleared his throat. “A bagel. Multigrain.”

“Cream cheese or butter?” “Cream cheese.” “Toasted?” “Toasted?” He sounded like an idiot parrot. No. Toasted bagels were disgusting. The heat melted the cream cheese and made a huge, gloppy mess. Toasted bagels were the bane of the cream cheese world. “Toasted,” she smiled a little and waved the bagel at him. “Do you want it toasted? You know, like in a toaster? Makes the bread warm and crunchy.” She was teasing him, he realized, watching her brown eyes glimmer with amusement. He smiled in response, no, he grinned like a fool in response. “Yes, toasted,” he told her, preparing to make a day of just standing at the counter watching her. “If that’s not a problem.” “Of course not,” she said kindly, her full lips parting in a genuine smile. “If you’ll have a seat, I’ll bring it to you.” Desmond chose a table in the middle of the near empty café. He hadn’t realized that most of the people behind him had gotten their food and left as he stood there fumbling over a simple order. He slowly took off his jacket and hung it carefully on the back of the chair before he sat down. There was no doubt he was going to be late, but at this moment he didn’t care. The cafe was comfortable, with pleasant melodies emanating from the sound system. His eye for detail spied several pots of catnip placed here and there, usually tucked into some unobtrusive corner. He didn’t see a cat, but there must be one around somewhere. Why else would there be catnip? The sweet fragrance of cinnamon and vanilla announced her presence and she placed his tray on the table. The ticket for his purchase was tucked under the corner of the saucer. “Here you are. I’m sorry it took so long. I don’t usually work the counter.” She stood there, smiling nervously. She gave a little wave at his tray. “You can pay the cashier when you leave. Please enjoy.” Have a seat. Would you like to sit down? Please, sit. Variations on the same theme stuck in his throat but she was gone before any of them could work their way out of his mouth. Next time, he thought. He stared at his bagel for a moment, watching the softened cream cheese almost drip out of the side onto the plate. Runny and

disgusting, like the ice cream left at the bottom of a cup. It was just as unappetizing as he knew it would be. He ate it anyway.

Chapter Five “It’s got to be here somewhere,” Julie flipped through a huge dusty book that the reference librarian had dragged out of some deep, dark cavern below the main floor of the library. There were about ten worn, moldy books piled on the table between the two of them that they had been leafing through for the past three hours. “That librarian hates us,” Sakaria whispered to her friend. “She’s been giving us the evil eye the whole time.” Julie lifted one shoulder. “It’s her job. She’s lucky that she has something to do on a Saturday.” It was true that they were the nearly the only people in the library this morning. Everyone else seemed to be out enjoying the spring-like April day while they were in here leafing through the crumbling pages of smelly old books. Sakaria’s hands were filthy and she was sneezing from the dust. Julie had finally found her out. Sakaria had been handling her transitions pretty smoothly, cat part of the night, normal café owner during the day, or would have been if it hadn’t been for that damn tomcat. Because of him, she’d slipped inside the cafe’s back door unnoticed by Justin, who was taking out the trash. However, she had been so tired that she’d crawled on top of her own desk and had fallen asleep. When Julie had discovered her naked and fast asleep, Sakaria had no choice but to tell her the whole story. After getting over her shock, Julie had let the matter drop, and gave her a little time before she addressed the problem head on. She had arrived on Sakaria’s doorstep early this morning, waking Sakaria from a deep sleep, exhausted from another night of running the streets. “I gave you enough time on your own,” she declared, standing on her doorstep in the bright sunshine. “Now, we take my approach.” Which is how they ended up here in the library, requesting ancient books from the sour reference librarian. Sakaria had to fight the urge to hiss, catlike, at the woman, whose nasty demeanor let them know how she felt either about their choice of books or the fact that they were requesting them from her. These books always have the most frightening pictures. Sakaria shivered as she stared at a full color bookplate of a bizarre looking medicine man, green and gold snakes crawling around his

bare feet. His yellow teeth were filed to sharp points and he held something that looked like a flute in one hand. Probably uses it to call the evil spirits. “Ye gods and little fishes,” she whispered to herself, before turning the page. The next page was full of small, squiggly writing and Sakaria closed the book with a sigh, earning her yet another disapproving look from Ms. SourPuss librarian. “I found something,” Julie whispered excitedly. “Here,” she pushed the book at Sakaria. “Halfway down the page.” Sakaria scanned the paragraph with hope but then frowned. “This only works if you’ve been turned into a lion.” “It’s still a feline.” Julie had an optimistic look on her face. “Maybe that could be helpful?” Sakaria shook her head. “Best not to mess with it. It’s not specific enough and it might put me in a worse place than I am now.” She paused, looking at the dusty piles of books. “I think I’m just going to have to go see old Billy-boy myself.” Julie frowned. “What? You mean to tell me after all these months you haven’t done that?” She rolled her eyes. “I swear, Sakaria!” “I was afraid.” She toyed with the frayed cloth corner of one of the smaller books. “Sakaria, first of all, I told you not to go out with him. Second, he’s like a total pothead. He probably doesn’t even know that the stupid spell worked. Heck, he probably wrote the letter while he was high!” “Shhhhh!” Ms. SourPuss squinted in their direction. Julie lowered her voice. “You go over there as Saki-cat and threaten to rip his balls off. He’ll tell you everything you need to know.” Sakaria widened her eyes. “I can’t do that. He’ll call the cops.” “Yeah, right. And throw out all those pot plants? Who would believe his story about being threatened by a cat?” Her friend got up and slid into the seat beside her, patted her shoulder. “You can do this Sakaria. I’ll go with you. “No. You can’t go with me. What if he does something to you?” She shook her head. “I’m not going to pull you into this.”

Julie pursed her lips for a second. “All right, but at least let me drive you. Either way you have to go see him.” She laughed a little. “If nothing else, you’ll scare the crap out of him.” “I’ll think about it.” “Don’t think too long, Sakaria. Who knows how the spell will progress?” As much as she didn’t want to admit it, Julie had a point. These books weren’t getting them anywhere. She had to go to the source of the problem.

Chapter Six Julie pulled up to the curb and cut the engine. Sakaria moved restlessly in the passenger seat and stared at the darkness outside the window. She’d gone to psychics, an obeah woman, even a Catholic priest, and none of them could help her. Julie was right. What choice did she have now but to see him? William Kent. She had gone out on one date, just one date, because she liked his smile. The rest of him wasn’t that bad either. Who would have thought such a charming, easygoing guy would turn out to be, well, crazy. “Go,” Julie said, patting her trembling arm. “I’ll be here. If you’re not back in about a half hour, I’m coming to get you.” Sakaria took a deep breath and glanced at her friend, who looked back at her sympathetically. “It’s the only way you’re going to find out if, and how, you can shake it off, Sakaria,” she said gently. “He’s the one who can give you the info you need. You’ve tried everything else.” Julie paused, watching her face. “Do you want me to come with you?” “No!” Sakaria shook her head, her masses of tiny ringlets bouncing around her face. “I told you, he might do something to you too.” “You know I don’t care about that.” “I know.” Even though it was a warm night, Sakaria massaged the goosebumps on her arms and took another deep breath, trying to slow her racing heart. “It’s now or never, I guess.” Sakaria stepped over the console to the back seat of Julie’s truck. Once there, she slipped off her clothes. Then, she closed her eyes, willed her body to shift and immediately experienced the cold, painful feeling invading her arms and legs. Then, she was a cat. Julie opened the back door and she leapt out into the night. **** Sakaria crouched in the hedges of Will’s backyard. Her night vision was excellent: she watched him as he carefully constructed his evening smoke. He sprinkled the dried marijuana leaves with the dexterity of a surgeon, distributing the crumbly herb on the rolling paper. Barefoot and shirtless, he rolled the blunt slowly, licked the end paper and gave it a twist. Sakaria wanted to laugh. Who knew he was such an expert joint roller? And to think she had gone out with

him. He lit the tip and inhaled deeply, eyes closed in what she presumed was blunt-smoking heaven. “This is some excellent shit,” he murmured, as she trotted across the yard and leapt onto the deck. It was easy from there to slip through the open screen door. She figured he’d be out there for a while. The bedroom was easy to find in the small house and she spotted several places to hide, but eliminated them one by one due to their disadvantages. She didn’t want to be trapped in a closet or closed in a drawer and thus settled for under the bed to more easily monitor his movements when he entered the bedroom. Bored and vindictive, she busied herself under the box spring. Methodically, she shredded the toes of his sneakers which were lined up neatly under the bed. Once she was done with that, she trotted into a corner where the plush carpet was the deepest, and emptied her bladder, making sure to spray the wall. On the way back to her hiding place, she raised herself on her back paws and casually sharpened her front claws on the front of his fine mahogany dresser, leaving deep scratches in the highly polished wood. For a stoner, he has some really nice taste. About an hour later, the bedroom light flicked on and she saw his bare feet as he got into bed and had to restrain herself from clawing at them. The box springs sagged above her as he settled in for the night. She waited a few minutes, idly playing with the end of a damaged shoelace until she was pretty sure he was almost asleep. Then, she climbed up on the dresser next to the bed and watched him. She could see his bare chest. If she was lucky and he was not, he would be sleeping naked. Sakaria took a moment to judge the distance and jumped, extending all of her claws for a precise landing on the soft flesh of his chest and abdomen, digging in to steady herself. He awoke with a start, a scream strangled in his throat, his hazel eyes wide. She clawed his shoulder, evilly pleased at the nasty red welts she was leaving. How do you like your cat now, Will? “What the fu—” He reached for her, but his reflexes were sluggish and Sakaria was too fast, slipping through his clumsy fingers to scratch his wrist. More angry, red welts emerged on his tan skin. He

heaved himself out of bed and stumbled out of the bedroom with Sakaria hot on his heels. She was having a great time. “Cat… hey… get away! What the hell?” Even as agitated as he was, he didn’t lose his surfer dude accent, drawing each word out to its fullest. His face was bright red as he grabbed a broom and brandished it, trying to fend her off. Sakaria wanted to laugh. As high as he was, he had no chance of even coming near her with that broom. He smacked at her and she simply ran toward him and scratched his bare ankles. What pleasure that gave her to rip into his skin like that. What a bastard. He dropped the broom and backed into the living room area. “Goddammit!” He stumbled into the living room, and Sakaria followed more slowly hissing her displeasure. William turned and stared at her as she sat down on a scruffy throw rug. He sat down slowly on his sofa, absently rubbing the scratches on his chest and arms. “Sakaria?” Of course, he would know her. He’s the one who put the spell on her in the first place. She shifted into human form and stood up, not caring that she was naked. He stared at her with pot-fogged eyes as she walked toward him. “Take this goddamn spell off me, Will,” she said in a low voice that didn’t reveal how angry she really was. He parted his lips to speak. “Duuuuude,” he said foggily. “So it really worked. Holy shit, you’re, like, a pussy cat!” He paused. “Nice tits.” She slapped his face, hard. “Tell me how to take it off, Will.” He shrugged, sagged back against the midnight blue sofa. “Like, I totally don’t know how.” Exasperated, she backed up and sat in a matching chair across from him, looked around and tried to think. He actually had a nice place. White wooden mini blinds, modern furniture. Even the pot posters on the wall were in wooden frames behind glass. But what was she going to do with him? “You put this spell on me?” “Like, yeah.” His heavy lidded eyes crawled over every inch of her exposed body. She didn’t care. He was such a nothing anyway,

it didn’t matter. “Ah babe, you’re, like gorgeous.” He extended his arms to her. “Why don’t you bring that beautiful body over here and sit on my face.” “For goodness sake,” she snapped. This, she thought, is why you only had one date with me, you fool. “Why Will?” “Why do I want you to sit on my face?” “Why did you put this spell on me?” He shrugged. “Like, it seemed like a good idea at the time. I totally didn’t think it would actually work, like really?” He blinked slowly, as if seeing her for the first time. “You’re like a pussy cat!” His hand dropped to the waistband of his boxers and slid in. “How about a little pussy from the pussy?” Sakaria flicked her eyes down at the tent that was forming his boxers and smiled her sweetest smile. “Go ahead, Will, take it out. We’ll play.” Like the jackass he was, he started to shed his boxers then paused. Most likely, he was thinking how it would feel to have one of her kitty-claws through his scrotum. She could see it all over his face and she laughed as she shifted back to cat form. Time to let him know she was serious. Sakaria leapt onto his shoulder, clawing at his scalp and ears. He put his hands around her furry body tried to squeeze her but she sank her sharp fangs into the flesh of his earlobe and bit down hard. He screamed this time, a high pitched screech that warmed her to the tips of her kitty paws. He let her go. “Jesus, Sakaria, stop!” He waved his hands in the air. “I stole the book from the library and like accidently set it on fire. But….” Sakaria leapt from his shoulder to a chair and shifted back, brushing her hair out of her face and delicately wiping his blood from her lips with the back of her hand. She gave him a feral smile. “But what, William? Tell me, or the next time I shift, I’m scratching your eyes out. Then, I’ll start on your balls.” He licked his lips nervously and touched his injured earlobe. “A man has to break the spell. He has to be in love with your, like, inner essence. Then he’ll, like, know you in your cat form and call you by your totally sexy name. Saaaa-kaaaa-riiiia.” He drew her name out dreamily and Sakaria knew he was on a serious high. “Ow!” He touched his ear and winced at the sight of the bright red blood on his fingers. “You, like, fucked up my ear.”

What an ass. “You’re five minutes behind, Will.” She waved him off. “And you’re bullshitting me.” She played with a lock of her hair. “Tell me the truth or I’ll go for your balls next. You’re too high to stop me.” “Saki, sweetheart, no bullshit, baby,” he drawled, gazing at her through half-lidded eyes. “If he loves you, he’ll sense your essence, man, I’m telling you.” Sakaria sighed. “So I’ll just tell him.” William shook his head, eyes nearly closed now. He was going to be useless in a second. “Doesn’t work like that. You can’t tell him or …..” he trailed off. “Or what?” He looked down and mumbled something. Sakaria leaned forward. Inarticulate bastard. She wanted to tear him up, she thought, fingers flexing in unconscious response. “Speak up!” He spoke quickly, or at least as quickly as he could manage with the drugs in his system. He raised a hand in emphasis. “Tell him the deal, you’re like a cat forever, Saki. And if it doesn’t happen before Halloween midnight, like this year? Same thing’ll happen.” “Midnight? Eastern Standard Time?” “Whatever time zone you’re in, baby.” His glassy hazel eyes roamed lazily over her body. She could just imagine what he was thinking, but she was too focused on the information that he was delivering to even care. “What kind of crappy spell is this?” She threw her hands up in exasperation, her hair drifting around her face in a dark brown cloud. Will was talking in circles and that draggy surfer tone was getting on her nerves. Why couldn’t this be a decent, straightforward spell? “So if I meet a man, get him to fall in love with me, and call me by my real name while I’m in cat form, then the spell will be broken?” “Not exactly.” He rubbed a forearm across his bleary eyes. “There’s a little more.” She curled her nails on the chair’s arms, scratching at the dark blue microfiber. “You’d better tell me quick!” He explained. The gist of it was that it had to happen in the month of October in the three days before Halloween or she was cursed to be a cat forever.

Forever.

**** Back in the car, as she dressed, she gave Julie the rundown on what she had learned. After she settled herself in the front seat, Sakaria picked at the granola bar that Julie gave her. Usually when she shifted back she was starving, but the conversation with William had dampened her appetite. She drank from the bottle of water she’d left and stared out of the window. Julie started the car and pulled away from the curb. Sakaria could tell she was deep in thought. Her lips were pressed tightly together and she tapped her fingers on the steering wheel as she drove. “We can totally do this,” Julie said finally. “It’s like the Princess and the Frog, only the princess is a cat.” Sakaria laughed in spite of herself. Ever since she had known Julie, from freshman year in college when they were thrown together as roommates, she had been able to put a positive spin on any situation. Comparing her dilemma to a fairy tale, or tail, she thought, was just too funny. “I don’t know, Julie,” Sakaria moaned. “Get someone to fall in love with me and then, get him to notice that I’m that cat who’s hanging around? I’ve got to meet someone first.” “All we have to do, well, all you have to do is leave a trail of clues. They have to be huge clues because guys can be kind of, uh, oblivious. Or pick someone with an eye for detail.” Sakaria bit into the granola bar. “What if he rejects me because I’m a cat?” Julie shook her head. “Sakaria, believe me when I say this. If a guy is into you enough, it won’t matter. Plus, if he’s aware enough to call a cat by your name because he thinks it’s you? He’s totally into you.” Sakaria gazed out of the window. “That’s actually crazy enough to make sense,” she said, thinking about the guy from the café. He’d been coming in for a few weeks, on and off, but she didn’t know his name. Nor had he asked for hers. “But if it doesn’t work, you’ll have yourself a new cat. Just don’t spay me, okay?” Julie laughed. “Never! It won’t even go that far. I promise.”

Chapter Seven Des hated running in the heat. The sweat poured off him as he and Ryan ran around the track in the midsummer heat. He could smell the cut grass and barbeque pits and hear the cicadas buzzing in the trees; the smells and sounds of summer. There was no one out there with them this late at night. All the after dinner walkers had done their laps and retired to their television sets. Ryan ran next to him silently, both of them probably saving their breath to finish the last few laps. He hadn’t run in a couple of days and even in that short span of time, his breathing was off. To take his mind off of his burning lungs and aching legs, he thought about Sakaria. He didn’t realize that he was smiling to himself until Ryan spoke. “Something funny?” Ryan gasped out. “Having a good time? Because we can always run another couple of laps.” Des shook his head. “Tell you in a minute.” When they were done they sat down on the first row of benches, no bleacher runs tonight. “So what’s so funny? I could use a laugh.” Ryan mopped his forehead with a towel and sat back. “There’s this woman.” Desmond said, retying his shoelace. “From that coffee shop I’ve been going to.” “Really? That Café Dolce place you told me about?” Ryan laughed. “There’s a cutie in there who does the baking. Always dressed in white like a sugar dusted gingerbread angel.” He shrugged. “Won’t give me the time of day though.” It didn’t surprise Des that Julie wouldn’t give Ryan the time of day; she obviously sniffed out his pussy hound ways. He was surprised, however, that Ryan had also been to the café. “I’ve never seen you there.” “A bunch of us go, usually right before lunch. So, what, you met her over tea and scones?” “She works there.” “Wait a second.” Ryan sat up. “You mean you’ve been going there since what, March? And you’re just now going to ask her out?” “I’ve been busy. What am I going to do, ask her out and have her warm my sofa while I work?”

Ryan shrugged. “I don’t know, but I wouldn’t have waited three months to ask the woman out.” “Eight weeks, actually.” “Pardon me, eight weeks. It’s still too long. You should have been hitting the sheets with her by now. Which one is she? The one with the Afro puffs? I hope it’s not my gingerbread angel.” “She has long hair, braided.” Ryan frowned. “I think I may have seen her once. Kinda mousy, don’t you think? Nice rack though.” Des continued to be amazed at his cousin’s ability to reduce a woman to body parts. “She’s cute.” “So ask her out. It’s about time you jumped back out there. And you’ve certainly polished your pitch in the eight weeks it took you to work up the nerve.” “The time got away from me, is all.” “Keep dragging your feet and she will too.” **** “He’s back,” Julie peeked into the office where Sakaria was nearly asleep on her desk. She was supposed to be working over the week’s figures and balancing the books, but after a night running the streets and nearly getting into a fight with three huge alley cats, she was exhausted. But this news piqued her interest and she sat up. “He’s always back,” Sakaria said. Indeed, the guy with the keys had been in on and off for the past two months, according to Julie. Apparently, he only came in the morning, so if Sakaria arrived late, which she was doing more and more often, she missed him. This was one of the mornings where she made an effort to come in early and actually regretted it. Trying to strike a balance between her day and night life was getting tougher and it appeared the night life was winning. “You should go out and talk to him. He could break the curse!” Julie stage-whispered this last, making her eyes wide. Sakaria shrugged. “If he’s that great, he needs to find someone with less problems than me.” “Come on,” Julie prodded her shoulder. “You’re successful, single, own your own home, own a business. What’s not to like?” “You think he’s going to buy me a personalized food dish?” Sakaria laughed sarcastically. “While I may be a shining example of

the perfect woman, I’ve got just one flaw. I turn into a cat. And as much as I try to not to, I will eventually. That’s a bit of a problem.” “He can solve that for you.” Julie remarked as she sat in her own office chair and spun around. “He’s cute, he has a job, he pays us to feed him his breakfast. I mean he’s been here almost every day for the past couple months. Again, what’s not to like?” Sakaria stuck her foot out and stopped her friend’s manic spinning. “Two months?” “Maybe longer. Sometimes I’m not here when he comes in. Mandy keeps me posted.” She narrowed her eyes. “Ah ha!” “Ah ha, what?” “You’re interested.” “Julie, please, I waited on him once, maybe had a conversation or two after that.” She yawned. “It’s no great romance. I probably can’t even pick him out of a crowd.” But that was a lie. She had been a little taken aback when he’d appeared in the café the first time. Never in a thousand years would she have thought she would have run into him again. The months ago morning under the bleachers had just been a fluke. She stared off into space, remembering what he looked like. Just the right amount of muscle. Not a body builder’s body, no thanks, but solid. The little fake Mohawk he sported was cute too and she had spent quite a bit of time in Target sniffing out the exact scent of body wash he used. Just like him, it was just enough not to be overbearing. “You remember exactly what he looks like,” Julie told her, “judging by your dreamy eyes. Go out and say hello.” “I don’t want to involve him in my mess of a life, Julie.” She turned back to the computer and began tapping on the keys. “He is kind of cute, though.” Her body warmed at the thought of his hands on her skin, brushing the back of her neck. “You could go out there and sniff the catnip, maybe rub up against it a bit, lick some condensation off a glass or two, you like that, right?” “That’ll attract him like a magnet.” Sakaria tapped a few keys in a show of studiously ignoring her friend. She couldn’t ignore, however, the blossoming heat between her thighs at the thought of him. She frowned at her body’s betrayal and concentrated harder on the spreadsheet before her. Like she told Julie, she didn’t want to complicate anyone else’s life any further with her issues.

Julie snapped her fingers. “I got it. It’s not busy. Go out there like a cat and jump in his lap. See if he even likes cats.” That was it. Sakaria turned and fully faced Julie. “Are you insane?” Julie shrugged, her face a mask of innocence that Sakaria knew was fake. “I’m just saying. It could work.” “You want the board of health in here? A stray cat running around the restaurant, jumping on patrons? We’d be shut down in half a second.” “You don’t have to jump on everyone, just on him.” Julie’s reasonable tone belied the absurdity of her suggestion. “No and no.” Sakaria was firm. Yes, her deadline was drawing near, yes, she had the potential to be turned into a cat forever, but who knew if what William said was even accurate? He couldn’t even spell “days” right. “Then I’ll tell him to never come back here because you’re not interested.” Julie got up out of her chair. “And, I’ll tell him you think he’s just the most hideous thing you’ve ever seen.” “No!” Sakaria jumped up. “Don’t do that.” “What do you care?” Julie’s jaw was set in a stubborn line; the same look she’d given her when she’d said she needed to go see William. Sakaria had no doubt that Julie would say something to the guy. “All right, enough with your strong arm tactics.” Sakaria gave in. “I’ll go say hello.” “Better hurry, I have Charlotte stalling him at the cashier.” Sakaria snatched up the lint roller she kept to take off stray cat hairs, ran the sticky tape over her skirt, then gave herself a quick once-over in the compact she kept in her desk. She shook her head at Julie’s obvious pleasure. “I don’t approve of your methods, Julie. You’re twisting my arm.” “Yeah. Whatever.” She paused. “By the way, Sakaria?” Julie said her name with a teasing glint in her eye. “What?” “Act casual.” ****

“Sakaria!” Charlotte had a look of mock panic on her face. “There’s something wrong with the register. I can’t get this to total up.” So they were all in on it. She plastered a professional smile on her face and made her way over to the cashier’s stand. Trying to get poor, poor Sakaria a date. She sighed to herself. Maybe life would be much better for her as a cat. At least she knew what that tomcat wanted. “Here, let me take a look,” she said, playing along as she took the receipt from Charlotte, who immediately left the area. Sakaria’s hand shook slightly as she punched a few buttons on the cash register. The total popped up on the screen. She looked up at Desmond who had an amused look on his face. “Hi, I’m Sakaria. I—” “Hi, Sakaria, I’m Desmond.” She paused a second before she continued. That was the last thing she expected. Well, he wasn’t an idiot, that’s for sure. “Hi, um, Desmond. It’s ten dollars and twenty-seven cents. I’m sorry for…” She met his eyes and trailed off. A frission of electricity zig zagged its way through her stomach and she nearly dropped the receipt from her fingers. Too good looking to be real, she thought. Dark hair in that ridiculous faux hawk, which somehow suited him, broad shoulders in a button down oxford shirt. “Sorry for the wait.” “Not a problem. I’m not in that much of a hurry.” “Oh.” She was pretty sure she had more words in her vocabulary besides “oh” but that was the one that came out. What a great smile he had. “I… uh, here.” She thrust the receipt in his hand, her cold fingers brushing against his warm ones. She imagined what it would feel like to have his hands smoothing over her naked skin as he pressed his lips against hers. “Just make it ten dollars even,” she stammered, blushing a little at her own thoughts. “I mean, you come here so often.” Damnit, don’t let him know that you know. “Or so I’m told,” she added lamely, which merely served to compound the error. One corner of his mouth turned up in a slight smile and he handed her a twenty dollar bill. “Who tells you I come here a lot?” Sakaria flushed so much her face felt like it was on fire. “I… Julie

does. She tells me… stuff. I’m not in the front, a lot.” “Maybe you should be.” He gave her another easy smile, causing her stomach to flutter. “It would make my day brighter.” Sakaria dropped her eyes to the cash register keyboard and blindly poked a few keys. The register door sprung open, unexpectedly, nearly hitting her in the stomach. She jammed the twenty dollar bill under the spring clip, which pinched her finger and struggled to pull out a ten dollar bill. Thank goodness she didn’t have to bother with coins, she’d have the entire cash drawer all over the floor. It didn’t help that Desmond was staring out of the window, ostensibly trying not to make her any more nervous or that she could feel the eyes of the entire staff burning into the back of her head as they pretended not to watch. The cash register gods must have smiled upon her as she managed to tug out one ten dollar bill without the rest of the money flying all over the place and slammed the drawer shut. She stretched out her arm, intending to drop the bill in his hand but he was faster than she, capturing her hand along with the ten dollar bill. “Thanks,” he said, sliding his fingers slowly over hers. The contact sent shivers up Sakaria’s backbone. Her knees grew shaky and she felt her mouth go dry. He leaned forward over the counter. “Sakaria.” “Yes?” She could barely catch her breath as her heart fluttered and jumped in her chest. She had to fight the urge to pant. Now that would be embarrassing. “Come out with me Friday?” He had lowered his voice so that the busybodies barely beyond her elbow couldn’t hear him. The murmured voices of the few diners as well as the outside traffic sounds had receded to nothing. It was as if he had created a world for just her and him. “Okay.” She gripped the edge of the stainless steel counter with her free hand. She didn’t even know where he was going to take her. “There’s a street fair. In Brookdale.” “Okay.” ice eyes. “Is seven a good time?” He smiled, obviously trying to put her at ease. “Seven? Yes. Seven’s fine.” She was able to breathe once he let go of her hand. Still, she missed the contact. “I, uh, need your address… maybe a phone number?” He slid his card across the counter to her as she scribbled on the back of a Café

Dolce business card. He picked up her card and slid it into his shirt pocket without looking at it. “I’ll call you.” “Okay.” Face still burning, she retreated quickly to her office.

Chapter Eight “It’s all fun and games, now Julie, but what happens when I just disappear off the face of the earth?” Sakaria pulled a skirt on, then balanced the telephone between her ear and her shoulder to pull on her sneakers. Street fairs called for cute but comfortable shoes that wouldn’t mess up her feet. She would always laugh at the cute girls in the miniskirts and fashionable shoes. They were either benched, sitting on the sidelines while their feet took a breather, or tottering around with the most pained expression on their faces. How could anyone have a good time when their feet hurt? Her dark purple slip-on mesh sneakers did the trick nicely. She paired that with a long peasant skirt and a just tight enough red t-shirt. “You’re not going to disappear off the face of the earth. Either that pot smoking fool is wrong, or Des is going to fall head over heels with you. Or both.” Sakaria heard Julie change the channel on the television. “And how am I going to work the cat angle in? Remember, according to Mr. Pothead, the dude has to recognize me in my cat form.” It was all too surreal for Sakaria to deal with on a real basis. Instead she just put it in as part of her routine. Go to work, come home, have dinner, shift in to cat form and run the streets for a couple hours. The only problem was, she was beginning to like the running the streets part a little too much. This morning, she didn’t come in until three a.m, slept for six hours then dragged herself into work. “Don’t worry about that,” Julie’s voice was confident. “It will all take care of itself.” “I hope so,” Sakaria said, looking at the clock. It was ten to seven and knowing Desmond, he was going to be on time, if he wasn’t here already. She liked someone who was dependable. “I gotta go, Julie, it’s almost seven.” “Give him a big kiss for me,” her friend said, laughing. “I’ll call you.” She ended the call and tossed the cordless handset it on her rumpled bed. No problem about not making up the bed because there wouldn’t be any of that tonight anyway. Leaning close to the mirror, she assessed her reflection. Not much makeup to do, just a brush of mascara and a touch of cinnamon lipstick. This hair, ugh! She tossed the thick braids over her shoulder.

Her hair seemed like it grew a half inch every time she shifted, which was both pleasing and annoying. She’d taken to trimming it every week to keep it from reaching her feet, but she couldn’t cut it too short. The one time she did she looked like a patch work kitty with bald patches alternating with long tufts of hair. Though she knew she looked awful, she had gone out anyway and somehow felt the other cats judging her bedraggled appearance. A knock on the door interrupted her mirror-gazing. Desmond. She flicked off the light in her bedroom, walked down the short hallway to the living room and opened the door. If he were a piece of candy, she’d want to eat him right up. Freshly showered, freshly pressed and faux hawk freshly gelled or moussed or whatever he did to it. She could help but grin at him. “Hi,” she said, swinging open the door. “Come in. Have a seat.” She had carefully lint rolled every inch of the living room, seeking out and capturing every strand of cat hair. “You look very pretty.” He kissed her cheek and Sakaria could feel a warm thrill travel down to her toes. Thank goodness for unmade beds, she thought and messy bedrooms or she’d be dragging him down the hall at this very moment. “Thank you,” she said demurely, even though she wanted to jump up and down and squeal with delight. She practically floated into the dining room to grab her purse off the table. “You have a cat?” His voice came from where he was seated on the living room couch. Her hand froze on her purse. What did she forget to put away? “Ah, no,” she said, strolling back into the living room. He was holding the orange plastic ball with the bell her favorite amusement when she came back in from a night out. She could lie on the floor for at least an hour, batting the thing back and forth. He shook it and the bell tinkled merrily, bidding her to play with it right now. ow. She grit her teeth and planted a smile on her face. “Oh, that,” she said lightly, trilling a laugh she didn’t feel. If he shook it again, she was going to bat it right out of his hand and pounce on it. She gripped her small cloth purse in her hands, hanging on to her humanity by sheer will. “My friend sometimes brings her cat over and leaves toys around.” She waved an arm, feigning nonchalance. “Okay,” he said and rolled it onto her coffee table.

She tore her eyes off it with all the will she could muster, making a mental note to bat it around a bit when she got back. “Shall we?” She stepped toward the door. He stood up and perused her pictures “Your pictures are awesome.” She had hung a bunch of crazy pastel abstracts that she had gotten from flea market up on the wall. Julie thought they clashed with the deep hues of the throw rugs, but Sakaria liked them and now Desmond liked them too. She touched her tingling cheek where he had pressed his lips. Behave yourself, she thought. She ushered him out, locking the door behind them. **** Street fairs were the perfect date, Desmond thought. It was people watching at its best for him, plenty of places to shop for her. Not that he didn’t do his own flipping through old records and random oddities that people offered for sale. Street fairs were also the best place for unforced conversation. And there was always something interesting to eat at the vendor booths. She walked close enough to him that her scent teased him just underneath the smell of popcorn, hotdogs and the other foodie delights being prepared by the vendors. He took her arm in his, steering her in the right direction. As always, there was a plan, his not-yet-patented street fair plan that would afford them the best browsing experience. He would start at one end opposite the food vendors and work his way all the way down one side and then down the other, ending at the food vendors. He hated eating and walking. However, he wanted to consider Sakaria’s feelings. “Would you like something to eat?” Sakaria shook her head absently, already browsing at one of the booths offering crocheted hats, scarves and other accessories. “I like to look around first before I get all tied down with food.” One of the scarves was a colorful mix of scarlet, gold and green. The yarn was cozy under her fingers and she resisted the urge to rub her face against it. “Your things are so beautiful,” she told the woman behind the table. They strolled the blocked off street, looking into colorful booths and dodging sticky handed children, strollers and other

couples. The fair had a variety of vendors from handmade arts and crafts to the so-called antiques. Despite the sights, Sakaria’s warm presence beside him stole all of his attention. He loved the way she would grab his shoulder, stand on tiptoe and whisper straight into his ear, her cinnamon scented breath firing his blood and making him want to give her more than the chaste kiss he’d given her earlier in the evening. He could almost feel her lips brushing his ear when she spoke, causing him to nod dumbly at anything she said because his scrambled brain couldn’t comprehend a word. They browsed the old records booth, which Desmond always got a kick out of. Sakaria paused at a booth that offered artificial birds that bobbed in on the end of a wire. She seemed rooted to the spot, one hand raised in the air, her eyes narrowed in concentration as they followed the movement of one particularly fat cardinal. “Sakaria?” She blinked twice before looking at him. “Aren’t these the coolest looking birds? So… colorful.” “Which one do you like?” He reached for his wallet. “Oh, no, Desmond…” But he had already picked out the fat red cardinal she had been admiring. He handed her the bag and slid his arm around her waist, appreciating the softness of her body as she leaned against him briefly. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “You didn’t have to.” He gave her a little squeeze. “You like it, right?” “Yes,” she shook the bag a little and peeked inside. “I can’t wait to play with it,” he thought she said, but must be mistaken. “You want something to eat?” “Sure,” she gave a little smile. “Since you buy food from me all the time, let me treat you.” They eyed the food vendors that were lined up in this section of the street, generators running, grease splashing on the asphalt. “That guy just wiped his nose and kept cooking,” Sakaria whispered into his ear. “Disgusting.” “Makes the food taste better.” He almost laughed at the look on her face. “It’ll be fine.” She gave him a dubious look. “If you say so,” she said. “How about a hot dog? They can’t do much to them.”

“Perfect,” he said. She brought them both back a hot dog and soda. “The relish didn’t look right so I just got mustard.” She turned her knowing brown eyes on to him. “Really, that relish looked like they bought it last year. And the guy stuck his finger in it.” She shivered as she bit in to her hot dog. “On the other hand, you can pretty much drop a hot dog on the floor in a movie theater bathroom and it’s okay.” Desmond burst out laughing. “That’s disgusting.” “Movie theater bathrooms are very clean, and hot dog preservatives are very strong.” “Is that true?” “No,” she said and laughed. They ate and sipped in companionable silence, people watching. Desmond watched her eat her hot dog in little tiny bites, carefully chewing each one as she looked around. He noticed that her hair wasn’t all the same color, that it was nearly black in some places and faded to an almost reddish brown at her temples. His body registered the length of her thigh pressing against his, his jeans and her thin cotton skirt doing nothing to block their shared warmth. The red t-shirt had a low neck, and he could see the slight sheen of perspiration on her chest. He turned his gaze away, quickly, lest she catch him staring. A family walked past with a snooty Airedale terrier who appeared to be prancing on its toes and surveying the crowd as if it were royalty. Suddenly, the dog turned toward Sakaria, jerking against its leash as it began barking frantically. Sakaria froze with the end of her hot dog halfway to her mouth. Desmond put an arm protectively in front Sakaria, even though he could see that the dog was too far off to get close. What had set him off? “Trigger, no!” The owner pulled at the dog’s leash and gave them an apologetic look. “I’m very sorry.” “No harm,” he told the owner, watching them as they trotted away. He put an arm around Sakaria’s shaking shoulders and pulled her close. “You okay?” He asked her. Sakaria shrugged and gave a shaky smile. “I don’t like dogs.” “I see that.” She laughed. “You’ve really got an eye for detail, don’t you?”

Instead of answering, he gave her a little squeeze, enjoying the warm and solid feel of her body against his. This time, she did the most extraordinary thing: she shoved her face under his ear and rubbed against his neck. **** At her door, he didn’t wait for an invitation. He had been waiting to kiss her since he’d met her weeks ago and nothing short of a nuclear blast was going to stop him. “Desmond, I had a great time. Thank you.” He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, relishing the soft lushness of her mouth as he cupped her neck, spreading his fingers against her nape. He nipped at those full, sweet lips until she yielded to him, parting them to allow his tongue entrance. She tasted like spicy mustard and desire as her tongue darted against his, causing the blood to roar in his ears. His other hand pressed into the small of her back, crushing her breasts against his chest. She whimpered in her throat as she moved against him, inflaming his want for her even more. She broke the kiss first and stood there in the summer evening, her breath coming fast. She touched her fingers to her lips, which were slightly swollen from their kiss. “No more of that,” she said breathlessly. “Or my neighbors will be calling the police. I have to go.” She reached up and kissed him quickly on the lips. “Sakaria…” he didn’t know what to say as she fumbled for her keys. Maybe kissing her hadn’t been the right move.? “Tomorrow, I’ll call you.” “Yes.” She kissed his cheek and went inside, leaving him standing on the doorstep. **** Sakaria stood with her back against her own front door, her breath coming in short, quiet gasps. Her heart was galloping and she pressed a hand to her chest try to still the irregular rhythm. The pleasurable sensation of Des’s lips on hers lingered and every part of her being was warmed to the core, a feeling she hadn’t had in ages. His kiss was a knockout punch and she was down for the count. She closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the wooden door as her hand dropped to her lower belly and rubbed, feeling the tightness and tension in her sex. Her nipples were stiff

against the cotton of her bra as she imagined his hands and lips on them, teasing and touching the bare skin. She nearly ripped open the door to call him back, to throw caution to the wind and tell him everything. That, however, was not a wise thing to do. Sakaria listened carefully as she heard Des’s footsteps go down the porch and down the walk. Hurry up, she thought, holding her breath. She wanted to make sure that he was totally gone before she…. She heard the engine start and the car pull from the curb. Exhaling with relief, she began stripping off her clothes. Kitty-time. Naked and a little calmer as she focused on her tasks, she took out a dish of cold salmon and placed a bowl of water on the floor. These were all just in case she made it back and was too hungry to shift back to her human form to eat. Water and sliced salmon was something both forms could tolerate. She made a face as she remembered what happened when she ate something from the garbage as a cat, then shifted back to human. Her head had been in the toilet bowl for the better part of a morning. Preparations done, she shifted, dashing through the cat door and into the night.

Chapter (ine Des pushed away from his laptop and got up to stretch his legs. The week had been especially heinous. There had been a flurry of claims that he’d had to go through by hand because of the new software being installed on the server. Added to that headache, there were staff meetings this week and last on the new software, requiring him to actually be in the office more days than he had been in the last six months. Finally, Friday rolled around and he was able to stay at home as usual, work on his weekly report and tie up any loose ends. The new software, however, was still full of glitches, and had been fighting him all day. On top of it all, he hadn’t seen Sakaria for the past couple of days. They had been out a few more times, movies and dinner, the more traditional stuff. He had to admit to himself that even in this short amount of time, he was drawn to her more deeply than he even wanted to admit to himself. Her sweet fragrance, the little gestures she would make, pulling at her hair, the odd way she brushed at her nose when she was talking, even the way she would neatly arrange her silverware at the table, he loved all of it. As much as they seemed to get closer, he hadn’t gotten past her front door after their first date. That was frustrating enough, but to not have seen her for nearly a week, well, that was driving him crazy. Oddly enough, she didn’t hesitate to visit him at his own home, but that had led to nothing more than fevered groping and necking in front of some movie that they both had wanted to see. Twice now, they had been more interested in each other than the flickering images on Des’s television. It made him feel like a teenager again, even up to the point where she would manage to slip away, to excuse herself, before things went too far. He bore no ill will against her for that. He understood that a respectable amount of time had to pass before some women thought themselves emotionally ready for sex. However, his mental comprehension of her emotional state did nothing for his constant, aching need for her body. He wanted to kiss the space below her navel, inhale the warm scent of her skin. Hear her moan as he brushed his lips against the soft skin of her inner thighs.

Settle down, he told himself as he yanked open the refrigerator door. He was making himself lightheaded with the lack of food and subsequent brain draining thoughts. And now someone was at the door. **** When he’d first opened the door, Des looked tired, but he brightened immediately upon seeing her. She’d come by on a whim, not texting or calling beforehand. By seven on a Friday night, she hoped he was done with his week’s work. Besides, she missed him. “Hi,” she said, as she pushed the warm takeout containers into his hands. “One’s lasagna and the other is a bacon cheeseburger. You can have one or both. I already had dinner.” She walked into the house and dropped her patchwork bag on the sofa and sat down as he took the containers into the kitchen. His jeans and shirt were rumpled, an unusual look for him but oddly sexy. “Am I glad to see you.” He was back from the kitchen, rubbing a palm across the stubble on his chin. He sat down next to her on the sofa, his thigh touching hers. “What do you have there?” Sakaria dipped her head and smiled shyly. “I thought you might be still working, so I brought my little dorky latch hooking project to keep me busy.” She seemed embarrassed as she showed him the huge canvas stamped with a multicolored design. “All I need is a rocking chair and I’d be ready for the nursing home.” He laughed and got up. “You want to see dorky? I’ve got dorky for you.” He walked out of the room. When he came back he was carrying a stack of wooden discs. He took one off the top and showed it to her. “This is my favorite.” It was a seascape, with a small red and white boat being tossed on the waves. “Oh,” she’d said, brushing her fingers across the shiny surface. “It’s beautiful.” She glanced up at him, feeling genuine admiration. “It’s artistry. Really, Des.” She had seen wood carving projects before displayed at the craft store where she got her supplies, but never one as detailed as this. “How long did it take you to do this?” “About ten hours for the burning and another ten for the painting.”

“The colors and the detail…” she trailed off. “It’s just gorgeous.” “Thanks,” he said, coloring slightly. “You’re the first person who I’ve shown it to. Usually they stay in their place of honor on the bedroom closet shelf.” She looked at him in a new light. So underneath it all, Des was harboring closet creativity. “You should at least hang them on the wall.” “I do it for fun, not for decorating purposes.” He sat down next to her again. “I bet.” She gave him a sideways glance that was sort of but not quite meant to be sexy. “I know you have work to do, so I’ll just sit here and latch hook. I won’t bother you.” “Finished with that for the week.” He slid his arms around her and kissed her neck. “You always smell so good,” he murmured, his lips close to her ear. “Like cinnamon and vanilla.” Her body responded before her brain could as she felt the hot throbbing start between her thighs and her nipples tighten under her tshirt. “You say the nicest things, Des.” She meant it to be a teasing joke but in her state of arousal it sounded sincere. She felt flushed and slightly out of control. They hadn’t yet slept together, her reluctance with getting too involved and his suddenly busy work schedule serving to keep them apart after their first few dates. “I missed you.” He spread his hands across her belly, under the tee. The muscles under the skin fluttered, causing her to gasp slightly. His erection nudged her thigh making the warm liquid feeling spread lazily from her sex to other parts of her body, weakening her knees and quickening her pulse. “I… I missed you too, Des.” He licked her neck from the crook to just under her earlobe, then blew lightly on the moist trail he had created. She sighed, her insides turning to melted butter. “You’ve been busy.” “Too busy.” Moving one hand from her butterfly filled stomach, he traced the rim of her ear down to her earlobe. She shivered under his touch and leaned even further into him. “Sakaria,” he whispered.

She shivered again at his breath on her neck. It was now or never. What was she waiting for anyway? “Take me to bed, Des. I don’t want to wait any longer.” **** Sakaria never thought a kiss could be as good as the first time, but each time, Des proved her wrong. His lips were hot and greedy, capturing hers with a passion that belied his usually calm exterior. She parted her lips to allow his tongue to explore her mouth, flicking against hers, each touch inflaming her desire for him even more. He cupped her bottom with both hands, pulling her close and rubbing the ridge of his cock against the heat between her legs. Sakaria groaned aloud, and wrapped her legs around him, cursing the layers of fabric between them. She reached for the waistband of his jeans, her shaking fingers clumsy and awkward. “No,” he said, breathing harshly. “You first.” Unceremoniously, he pulled the t-shirt over her head, taking her breath away. He lifted her up slightly and with an expert snap undid her bra, sliding it off of her shoulders and tossing it aside. The breeze from the bedroom ceiling fan caused her nipples to draw into tight peaks and she started to cross her arms over her chest. “Don’t,” he whispered to her as he unbuttoned his shirt, whipped it off. “Let me look at you.” And so she kept her hands crossed across her stomach, feeling vulnerable and exposed, but less so as she could see the desire and need in his eyes. He lay next to her on the bed, turned her face to his gently. “You’re beautiful, you know that?” He smiled at her in the semi-darkness and cupped one of her breasts in his hand, his thumb dragging across her nipple. She closed her eyes and whimpered in her throat. Please, she thought desperately as she reached for him, the ache in her sex becoming unbearable. Desmond lowered his head to her breast, his breath hot on her flesh as she wriggled in needy anticipation. He drew the hardened nub of her nipple into his mouth, sucking urgently, his tongue flicking over it mercilessly, then nibbled on it until she nearly screamed with pleasure. She could feel him smiling against her chest and she raked her fingers through his hair, a silent demand for more.

“You like that?” Not waiting for an answer, he turned his attention to the other breast, lavishing it with his lips and tongue while he gently stroked the other. Hot, greedy lust swooped through Sakaria’s body. Her panties felt wet and too tight, each tiny movement causing the moist cotton to rub maddeningly against her clit. She moaned and begged him not to stop, to give her some relief. Instead, he kissed her, sucking and nibbling her eager lips before swirling his tongue around hers as he shimmied her skirt and panties off. Completely naked, she was now at his mercy. As he gently traced the contours of her body, his mouth lightly teasing her lips, neck and breasts in turn, she had to fight not to spread her trembling legs, to open herself up to him and beg him to fuck her. His body was hot against hers and she spread her hands over the smooth skin of his back, feeling his muscles working under her fingers. The fine hair on his chest tickled her breasts and she inhaled his now-familiar citrusy, woodsy scent, the same scent that had attracted her to his keys that long ago day under the bleachers. “Des,” she whispered, once again tugging at the waistband of his jeans, her hands sandwiched between their bodies. She wanted to feel his bare skin against every inch of her body. “Your turn. Hurry.” “Hold on,” he murmured, kissing her neck one more time. When he pushed himself off her, she sat up too, bare legs hanging off the side of the bed. She wanted to see him. Their eyes met and in them she saw the passion she felt reflected in his. Even in the semi-darkness of the room she was able to admire his finely muscled body that was usually hidden under starched oxford shirts. The shadow that she had often seen peeking through the open collars of his shirts was a fine brush of hair that extended across and down the center of his chest to his navel. “Pants off,” she whispered, only half joking. She moved slightly, rubbing her wet, sticky thighs together to create some friction against her throbbing clit. He grinned at her and dropped his jeans along with his underwear. Even in the low light of the room, she could see his impressive erection. She reached out to touch him. “Down, Sakaria,” he said in a chiding tone. “You first.”

He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her forward until her bottom reached the edge of the bed. She shrieked in surprise, which he covered with a quick kiss and knelt in front of her. The first swipe of his tongue made her yelp, the second made her arch off the bed and the third made her call out in a voice that wasn’t her own. He took his time, sliding his tongue up and down her damp folds, pausing occasionally to give her clit a lazy swirl, which only served to drive her further up the wall. She stared at the ceiling fan as it turned slowly, her body vibrating. Sakaria closed her eyes when he eased a finger, then two, inside of her, rubbing the rough spot at the top of her walls. He continued to suck and nibble on her sensitive bud and she came in a breathless rush, so suddenly that her head spun and the air whooshed out of her lungs. As she attempted to catch her breath she heard the ripping of the condom wrapper and her walls clenched in anticipation. His skin heated hers when he straddled her, propping himself above her, teasingly sliding the head of his cock against her slickness. “You’re such a tease, Des,” she whispered as she wrapped her legs around his waist. “Now, you’re just playing hard to get.” She put her arms around his neck, trying to wiggle herself into place. She put her lips close to his ear. “Fuck me.” “Patience is a virtue, Sakaria,” he said as entered her with one smooth thrust. Sakaria gripped his back, her fingers sliding over his sweaty back and tasting salt in her mouth as she pressed her lips to his neck, resisting the urge to bite him there. He pulled back and drove into her again. This time, she bit her own bottom lip and lifted her knees to more fully accept him. She groaned again as his hot swollen flesh stretched, making her back arch with carnal delight. It had been so long since she’d been this close to a man that she nearly hiccupped with pleasure. His rhythm was steady and powerful, each stroke bringing her closer to a second climax. “Oh, Des, oh, my.” She wrapped her legs around his waist again and held on, squeezing herself around him. “Tell me you like it.” His breath came fast and hard in her ear, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. Her body arched in wild response to him, lifting her hips to upwards to feel him deeper within her.

“I like it.” She licked his neck and rubbed her face there, resisting the urge to yowl and scratch. “I like you,” he whispered fiercely. She slid against him, hot, and totally abandoned to the erotic sensation. He was just perfect, she thought as she orgasmed again, her sex fluttering around him as she exploded in ecstasy. “That’s it,” he murmured to her. “That’s what I was looking for.” He began moving faster, his eyes narrowed in concentration as he reached his climax, burying his face in her shoulder as he let out a harsh cry. In the quiet of the room, their breathing was harsh and ragged. He slowly withdrew from her, leaving her feeling empty even as he kissed her belly. “Back in a second,” he said and no sooner did she hear the flushing the toilet that he was back next to her, his arms drawing her close, kissing her temple and her cheek. Sakaria snuggled against his chest, her cheek brushing the soft hairs there. She wanted to cry and laugh at the same time, she wanted to stay right here in the safety of his arms and she wanted to run the streets, wild and dangerously free. “Des?” “Yes?” She could tell that he was close to falling asleep, even though his hand stroked her naked thigh absently. What was she going to tell him? How was she going to get out of here? “I can’t stay,” she said, nearly choking on the words. “I can’t.” Her mind scrambled for an excuse. “My mom. She’s calling long distance from Arizona.” He looked at her with sex-drowsy eyes and there was nothing she wanted more than to stay and curl up with him till the sun rose in the morning. But she couldn’t. Not tonight, not any other night. She wanted to slap herself as she dressed quickly. It had been selfish of her to sleep with him. She tried not to see the look of disappointment in his eyes as she dressed and kissed him goodbye. “Tomorrow?” “Yes,” he said, quietly. He had pulled on his jeans to see her out. “Tomorrow.” He walked with her to the door, yawning.

At the front door, he took her arm, gently. “Is everything all right?” “Of course,” she reached up and kissed his cheek. “I’ll call you.” **** Though he tried to go back to bed, he missed Sakaria’s warmth next to him. Sweet and hot, the two words that best suited her. He lifted his hand to his face to smell her scent, wondering about the long distance call from her mother. Don’t dwell on it. Let it be. He flicked on the light to the kitchen. The takeout that Sakaria had brought for him sat on the counter where he’d left them and he slid them into the refrigerator. He grabbed the half-gallon of milk and snatched a bowl from the cabinet. Cereal was good for any occasion and especially appropriate when your girlfriend flew the coop right after you had sex for the first time. He sat at his dining room table, his ears picking up the murmurings from the radio that played at a low volume in the kitchen. The cereal was tasteless but he spooned it into his mouth anyway as he stared at the blackness through the windows in his back door.

Chapter Ten As she trotted through quiet backyards on her way to the downtown area on this pleasant night, she knew that her human days were numbered, according to Will. One part of her hoped he wasn’t correct. She figured she could live a near normal life even if she had to go around as a cat every once in a while. On the other hand, she actually derived pleasure from the freedom of roaming the streets, the mindless joy of simply being. But then there was Des to think about, not just herself. They had been seeing each other for a few months now and the bond between them was growing stronger even as the deadline for the curse drew near. She hadn’t yet figured out how to approach him with the whole cat problem, though she told Julie that she was “working on it”. When she rounded the corner to the alley that was the unofficial cat meeting place, only the huge gray and white striped tomcat was waiting for her. Well, not actually waiting, she amended, but he immediately stopped digging through the garbage when he caught her scent. She froze for a second, laid her ears back and hissed at him, an empty gesture, since not for one moment did she plan on fighting him. He sprang and slashed at her, catching her ear on his sharp claws. Startled by the sudden attack, she leapt backward, then turned and ran for her life. She still wasn’t very well versed in the ways of the cat, books and Wikipedia can only tell you so much, but she wasn’t going to let this huge tom teach her a lesson in cat manners tonight. She could almost feel his breath on her tail as she dashed as quickly as her four legs would carry her, dodging and leaping over obstacles in her way. Her slashed ear burned, and she could feel the blood dripping on her fur. Bigger and faster, the tomcat was getting closer, making her realize that this was a race she couldn’t win. They were now running through yards in a quiet neighborhood, over and under fences and she said a quick prayer that she wouldn’t run into someone’s dog who was sleeping outside. That would just be the icing on the cat cake. She whipped herself around the corner of a fence, banging her hip in the process. Tucking her tail between her hind legs she slipped under someone’s deck and crawled into the farthest corner. As she

dug into the cool, loose, dirt, she hoped that Mr. Tomcat would lose interest and chase another, more willing female. As she hid, listening for the cat’s breath, occasionally sniffing the air for a whiff of him, she suddenly caught a familiar scent. She inhaled again and yes, it was definitely there. Slowly, she dragged herself from under the porch, her bruised hip causing her to limp slightly. The smell got stronger as she carefully crossed over into the next yard, keeping her ears and nose peeled for the pushy tomcat. Here it was. She pulled herself up a few steps and pushed through the cat flap. “Meow,” she said and lay on the floor, exhausted and hurting. **** Des leaned close to the wooden oval plaque, maneuvering the branding tool over its smooth pine surface of the wood. He had carefully traced an intricate pattern that he was now following with the hot tip of the woodworking tool as he hummed along with the radio. His concentration was total and his hand steady, following the outline that he would eventually overlay with another. As he worked, he couldn’t help but wonder exactly what Sakaria was doing tonight. He should call her, just to hear her voice. He started to put the tool down to reach for his cell phone. The cat burst through the cat flap, startling him enough that he dropped the branding tool right in his lap, its hot tip burning his thigh. He jumped up so that the tool fell to the floor and yanked the plug out of the wall. Of all the things that he was expecting tonight, a cat through the cat door was not one of them. He looked down at the cat. If he wasn’t mistaken, it was the same cat that had retrieved his keys from under the bleachers. It couldn’t be, could it? He knelt down in front of it. **** Sakaria yowled with joy as she lay on the floor just inside the cat door. She was worn out, hungry and injured. At this point, all she wanted to do was sleep and she honestly didn’t care if she shifted back to human to do so. “Is that you, Cat?” He had such gentle hands, she thought, as he picked her up and examined her carefully, rubbing her back and chest with loving strokes. “Did you come looking for me to return that favor? Hmm?” He held her up to his face and Sakaria meowed. “Looks like you got into a little scrap.”

“You and I must be fated to be together, Cat,” he said, placing her back on the floor where she toddled a bit then sat, her injured hip still bothering her. “Stay there,” he told her. “I’ll be right back.” Before he left, however, he went over to the cat door and latched it. “Just for now,” he said. “To make sure no friends of yours mistake this for a hotel.” He fixed her ear up quickly with a couple of cotton swabs and some ointment. She sat still even though it hurt. Was it going to leave a scar? How was she going to explain this wound? Now that she was here, how she wanted to snuggle up against him as herself. But she couldn’t do that so she sat and made sad, mewling sounds. **** Des hummed a little as he worked on the cat, surprised at the fact that she sat so still for him. She was a dark brown long-haired cat, her fur streaked with caramel and black. Her eyes were the color of coffee, a striking, odd look. In his experience, not many cats had dark eyes. He petted the cat’s head gingerly, avoiding the injured ear and was rewarded with contented purring sounds as it pushed its head against his hand. “Do you want something to eat, Cat?” He grabbed two bowls and began poking around in the cabinets. By this time, the cat's interest had been piqued with all his rummaging around and was now sitting on the kitchen linoleum floor, watching him. He filled one bowl with water and placed it on the floor, then found a can of tuna which he dumped into the second. Desmond went out the back door, carefully closing it behind him, to the dark garage with a flashlight and found the old litter box and a half-bag of litter. He brought both inside and dumped the litter in the box. “All right, Cat,” he said. He pointed. “Litter box.” He pointed to the small rectangle in the back door, which he had unlatched. “Cat door. Use one or both. Please. For all of us.” The cat limped to the first bowl, lapped at the water, then turned her attention to the second, sniffed it, pushed it disdainfully with her paw. “Not a fan of tuna.” He nodded to himself. “All right then, let’s see what else we have.” He opened the refrigerator.

Leftover steak that he planned to eat himself, but the cat looked so intently at it that he quickly cubed the steak and put the plate on the floor. “Expensive tastes.” The cat finished it off in seconds flat then drank some more water. Desmond scooped up the plate, dumped it in the sink and went to take a shower. Eating was overrated anyway. Later on that night, dressed in boxers and a tee shirt, he got into bed. He was exhausted and still disappointed that he hadn’t seen Sakaria today. She was busy, she’d told him. He wondered what busy actually meant and if it had anything to do with the reason why she would never spend the night. Things had been going so well between them that he didn’t want to spoil anything by bringing it up, but it was starting to bother him. What was she hiding? He had just closed his eyes when the cat, sitting on the floor began to meow and yowl again. It was obvious that she wanted to sleep on the bed and because of her hurt hip couldn't jump that high. If he didn’t pick her up now, she would complain all night. Never mind that there were chairs and sofas available; she had to sleep up here. Typical cat. He reached over and scooped the cat up, depositing her on the other side of the bed. “Night, Cat.” **** Purring slightly, in counterpoint to his quiet snores, Sakaria snuggled against the cotton fabric of his t-shirt, used her paws to push up the fabric so that she was nestled against his bare skin. He smelled so lovely, especially after whatever shower gel that he used. The citrusy musky smell tickled her nose and she rubbed her face against his bare skin to rid herself of the feeling. Full, comfortable and warm, she purred herself to sleep.

Chapter Eleven Sakaria rushed through the streets, grateful for the light traffic in the early morning hour. Before she left Des, still snoring, she massaged his shoulders with her paws, thinking he was her only hope as far as the spell was concerned. She had taken to spending early evenings with Des as herself, then leaving, only to come back later in her cat form to sleep contentedly against his chest for the rest of the night. Blocks away, she pushed through her own cat door, shifted and took a quick shower. Her purple terrycloth robe hung on the back of the bathroom door. She wrapped it loosely around her and checked her ear in the mirror. It had healed nicely, she saw, but there was a tiny nick at the top of her ear. Stupid tomcat. Luckily, Des hadn’t said anything… yet. In the kitchen, the refrigerator was her first stop. She pulled out the plate of food that was supposed to have been for her dinner last night and put it in the microwave. While it heated, she made and ate a ham and cheese sandwich, chased it with milk straight from the carton. The microwave dinged, signaling her food had been reheated. She took a last swig from the carton and retrieved the plate. She ate the food quickly and unselfconsciously licked the plate, then wiped her mouth with the heel of her hand. Her hunger satisfied, she dragged her suddenly heavy body to her bed where she shed her robe, crawled naked under the covers and fell immediately asleep. Ten hours later, she woke and stretched luxuriously, then glanced at the calendar that she had tacked to the wall, the date slamming her back to reality. She had only weeks to break the curse or become a cat forever. Did she even have that with Des? For only seeing him a couple months, she wasn’t sure of how his actual feelings. And even that might all change once he found out about the… feline problem. She sat up in bed and touched the little fat cardinal on a spring that he had purchased for her on their very first date. It bobbed back and forth gently, its little beady eyes staring blindly at her. Little bird didn’t have any answers for her, so she was going to have to find them herself.

No Des tonight, she thought, climbing out of bed and pulling on her robe. Some male bonding thing with his cousin. And she had a drinks date with Julie. But first, she thought, giving an enormous yawn, time to eat. Again. Though she seemed to eat like a trucker pulling up at a pit stop, she didn’t seem to be gaining much weight. Note to self, recommend cat-shifting and running from huge cats as weight control. She laughed and went to get ready. **** The bar area of the restaurant was quiet and not too crowded for a weeknight. A baseball game played soundlessly on one flat screen television while the other housed a maniacally grinning woman who seemed thrilled to expose all the secrets of the stars to her studio audience. Halloween decorations mocked her as she followed Julie to a green upholstered booth. The restaurant was one of her least favorites, but they served the strongest drinks. Julie tossed her purse carelessly into the corner of the booth and prepared for the bar run. “What are you having, Miss KitKat?” “White Russian,” Sakaria said. Julie grinned. “You’re going hard tonight.” She went to fetch the drinks before Sakaria could answer. On the screen with the baseball game, Sakaria watched a single, then a double, then the next batter hit it over the left field wall, driving in three runs. She yawned as she played with the salt and pepper shakers on the table. This whole cat thing was wearing her out. She wanted to go back to sleep, badly. Julie plunked the heavy bottomed glass in front of her before she slid into the booth with her martini. “So how are you and Des getting along?” Julie sipped her martini while she eyed Sakaria’s White Russian. “Doesn’t that upset kitty’s tummy? Aren’t cats lactose intolerant?” Sakaria shrugged. “It upsets me a little, but it’s too good not to drink.” She took a big swallow, the vodka heating her stomach as it hit bottom. “Des is good.” Julie grinned and tossed her head to the side, her perfect hair settling immediately back into place. “That means he’s really good. You must be bonding pretty well.” She took a small sip of her drink. “Saki-cat has been hanging with him ever since that tomcat incident right?”

“Yes.” “Hmm. Interesting.” Julie stirred her finger around in her drink, her expression far away.Sakaria knew that look. She’d seen it in college when Julie suggested that they flush all the toilets in the dorm’s bathroom at the same time, when Resident Queen Evil was in the shower. After that, Queen Evil had a choice, either she was never going to take a shower again, or she was going to stop stealing people’s food from the dorm refrigerator and lying about it. “What is it, Julie?” “I’m going to say this because I’m your friend, but you might think it was weird.” Julie studied her drink, twirling the glass around by the stem. Sakaria took another swallow of her drink, knowing she was going to need it. “Can’t be any weirder than shape-shifting house cats, now can it?” Julie played with her turquoise bracelet as she spoke, dragging out the words. “Since he’s already used to the cat coming around, did you ever think of maybe, um, getting in there as a cat and maybe while he’s sleeping…” Sakaria felt her eyes stretch wide in shock, but she couldn’t ignore the flip-flops her stomach was doing. She’d thought about that plenty after she’d spent that first night curled against Des’s tummy. Thought about it a lot more than she should. “I mean, you’ve already slept with him, it’s not like, ah, he would be doing something that he wasn’t already doing.” Sakaria narrowed her eyes at her friend, who was blushing under her brown skin. “That’s not quite playing fair, is it?” Julie’s arched brows came together. “This is a matter of your human life and death, Sakaria. Face it, we’re out of options and you’re sticking your head in the sand. Yes, you’ve prepared the letters, to your parents and all the financial stuff, but damn, I don’t see how you can just sit there and let Halloween roll up and you disappear forever.” Julie rummaged in her purse for a tissue and blotted at her eyes. “And if doing something a little… unfair might help you, why not do it?” She took a deep breath. “I don’t see how you couldn’t at least try, you know?” Sakaria patted her friend’s hand. “Drink your drink, Julie, it’ll make you feel better.” She drained her own glass.

“You have to do it.” Julie took a huge swallow and made a face. “It’s the only way.” She gave a little sad smile. “And besides, it can’t be that bad, right?” Sakaria looked into her glass, the milky ice cubes staring blankly back at her. “It’s not bad at all,” she said, grinning. “But it just seems so…” She hitched her shoulders quickly. “Dishonest.” “Once you’re blowing him, he’s not going to care.” Julie turned her glass up to get the last drops. “I don’t want to lose you and at this point, Des is your only chance. He really likes you. All you have to do is use your cat powers to inextricably link Miss Cat to you in his head. Really.” “Inextricably, huh?” Sakaria considered what her friend said. “Sounds like a plan.” **** Julie’s words echoed in her mind as she trolled tipsily through the quiet night streets, keeping her eyes and nose peeled for Mr. Tomcat. She hadn’t seen him recently; hopefully, that was an indication that he had found new places to haunt and new kitties to harass. Des’s house was silent and dark when she pushed through the cat door, save for the light over the sink which he always left on. He was a sleepwalker, he joked, and he needed to be able to find his way around the house at night. Her food and water dish were on the floor in front of the stove and tonight’s entrée smelled like grilled chicken. Though she was full from the dinner and drinks with Julie, she took a polite bite of the chicken, which she then washed down with a few laps of water. Done with her snack, she paced around the silent kitchen, pondering the current situation. Julie was right, she thought. Time was running out and really, what did she have to lose? The decision made, she padded silently into the bedroom and leapt nimbly on the bed. Des slept on, oblivious to her presence. He lay on his side, one hand tucked under his head, the other bent against his chest, hair mussed against the pillow. She was close enough to smell his mouthwash. He was so regimented. How was he going to feel when he found out his girlfriend was a cat? She moved a bit away from him, with the knowledge that a small twelve pound cat takes up less room than a human and she didn’t want to end up kneeing him in the gut—or worse—when she

shifted. This time, the shift was swifter than usual, most likely because of her eagerness to get back to human form, and she gasped softly when the process was complete. Her heart raced and her face felt flushed. Tiny spirals of hair bobbed around her face as she bent over Des’s sleeping form. Impatiently, she brushed the ringlets over her naked shoulders with both hands, leaned over and pressed her lips to his. Might as well kiss him beforehand, she thought, grinning. It’s the polite thing to do. The night was quiet; not even a car passed by on the street. She drew back and let her fingers graze over his face; the sandpaper rasp of his stubble tickling her fingertips. He was perfect, she thought, too perfect for her. She sat back on her heels, absently stroking the side of her neck. Again, she leaned forward and slowly peeled back the bedclothes. Thank god for pajamas, she thought, easing both hands in the elastic waistband and noting the cartoon dog that patterned the cotton pants. A dog. She warmed her hands on his skin. Some people have no respect. Just touching him so intimately aroused her, erotic heat curling lazily between her thighs, causing her clit to throb. She closed her eyes and squeezed his cock in her hands, teasing it to attention. Her breath sounded loud in the quiet room and she fought to control her urge to just snatch the pants off. She leaned forward and slid him into her mouth, emitting a small hum of satisfaction as her lips closed around his shaft. She swirled her tongue around the tip, savoring his taste and breathing in his scent. Des moaned and laced his fingers in her hair, tugging gently. Sakaria froze. Was he awake? Doesn’t matter, she thought, sucking him in deeper as she squeezed him with her hand. Might as well finish it. After she straddled him, she rubbed the head of his cock on her aching clit, giving her some relief before she guided him in, wriggling her hips as she slid downward onto his erection. “Oooooh,” she sighed, exhaling slowly and closing her eyes. Her muscles hugged him snugly, creating an exquisite friction that sent shivers over her body, tightening her nipples. She moved leisurely, as she pleased, rocking back and forth on him in her own

rhythm. Her orgasm took her by surprise, sweeping over her in a rush, leaving her light-headed and breathless. “Wow,” she gasped aloud, trying to recover herself enough to slip off and shift back to cat, but she nearly jumped out of her skin when Des’s warm hands encircled her waist, holding her in place. “Sakaria,” he murmured, his eyes half-closed. “Hey.” He didn’t look like he was awake, but she guessed it would be rude not to speak, given her current position. If he asked her what she was doing here, then he was most definitely awake. “Hey, Des.” “You’re here.” “Yes,” she wiggled her hips slowly. “I’m here. Keep going.” He nodded, seeming to be in that vague area between sleep and full consciousness. He held her tight against him as he thrust up into her, his movements reigniting her desire. One hand slid up her body to brush at her stiff nipples and she closed her eyes and moaned. “That’s better, right?” “Yes,” she breathed and came again. He flipped her over, pulled off his pants the rest of the way and thrust into her in earnest. Sakaria slid her hands around his back as she angled her hips to meet his thrusts. Their bodies slid against each other. His kisses were hot and desperate on her lips and breasts, the rhythm of his strokes increasing until he finally groaned against her neck with his release. Desmond kissed her neck and her sweaty temple as he released her. Sakaria was in a panic as the breeze from the slightly open window cooled the perspiration on her body. Please, don’t let him start talking. Then his soft snores began again and she relaxed, smiling to herself. He had been asleep or at least half asleep the whole time. Sakaria gave him a swift kiss and licked his ear. Before she could fall totally asleep, she shifted. It wouldn’t do to have him wake up to a human Sakaria. How would she explain that? She meowed and stretched in satisfaction, curling her tail around her before falling into a deep sleep. **** Des snapped out of a sound sleep, heart pounding in his chest, feeling disoriented in the dark. It was the most vivid dream he’d ever had. It was like Sakaria had been here. That was impossible, he

thought, pushing himself up on his elbow and seeing the cat sleeping contentedly on the pillow next to his head. She never spent the night. But why was he naked? There was no one here but the cat… who was curled up on his pajama pants. This has to be a dream. He shook his head, rolled over and went back to sleep.

Chapter Twelve The red numbers of Des’s digital clock read eleven p.m. As quietly as she could, Sakaria slid out of bed and quickly dressed in the dark. This wasn’t the first time she made a middle of the night getaway. She hadn’t spent the entire night with Des since they began sleeping together. He hadn’t questioned her about it, but she could tell that the issue was growing heavy on his mind. That was a discussion that she didn’t want to have. He stirred slightly, feeling for her body in the bed. Damnit, Sakaria thought, trying to hurry. Please, Des, roll over and go back to sleep. “Sakaria.” His voice was foggy as he pushed himself out of the bed. He walked over to where she was standing by the door. “Where are you going?” “I have to go home.” And soon, she thought, or else you might get a little more than you bargained for. “No,” he put his hand on her arm. “Wait.” “I have to go.” She was beginning to get panicky. She hadn’t shifted in two days and she noticed that she was getting more and more antsy. The urge to spend her time as a cat increased as Halloween drew nearer. “Please, Des.” “Why, Sakaria?” “I have to go home.” “I heard you the first two times, Sakaria.” His voice was edgy. “You have a boyfriend? Husband? Just tell me.” Sakaria shook her head. “I’m not seeing anyone else,” her voice was soft. That would have been a much easier issue to resolve. He sat down on the edge of the bed, pulled her down across his lap. She couldn’t help but nuzzle her face in the crook of his neck. “You don’t have to sneak out. I want you to stay.” She took one long inhale, memorizing him. “I can’t. I wish I could but I can’t. I have a… problem.” “Problems are fixable. Just tell me. ” “I can’t tell you, Des.” She got up reluctantly. “I just can’t.” “Then how am I supposed to help you?” Sakaria sat back down, this time on the edge of the bed. “I don’t know.” She played with the folds of the bedspread, glad that it was dark so he couldn’t see her face. A feeling of shame crept over

her and she swiped at the tears that trickled from her eyes. She was in an impossible position. Yes, she needed his help, but she couldn’t tell him that. He gently placed a hand on the back of her neck and began to massage. The tenderness of the gesture caused the tears to flow faster. “I’m sorry.” She sniffed and wiped her eyes with her forearm. He slid his bare arm across her shoulders and pulled her close, pressed his lips to that special spot on her temple that he had claimed as his own. She exhaled shakily, knowing what she was going to do and hating to do it. This wasn’t going to work. She was wasting her time, and more importantly, dragging Des into her complicated life which may or may not be ending in a matter of days. She ruffled her fingers through his sleep tousled hair and touched his bare shoulder. “Des, I like you a lot. I do. But I shouldn’t have dragged you into my mess of a life.” She shrugged. “It’s too much for me to even begin to explain.” He took her hand and kissed the palm. “Every problem has a solution, Sakaria. Stop shutting me out.” Sakaria extricated her hand from his. “It’s not that easy, Des.” “Yes,” he insisted. “It is that easy.” Sakaria shook her head. She had to get out of there, now. “I’m going, Des. I’m sorry. I’ll call.” She left him before he could make her change her mind, snatching up her bag in the living room on the way out. **** It was one a.m in the morning when the cat flap made a soft sound, announcing the cat’s presence. She jumped nimbly onto the table, then onto the laptop keyboard, effectively ending any attempt that he was making at working, which was pathetic at best. Guess that was his signal to stop faking it and try to get some sleep. As he sat, he stroked the cat absently, thinking about Sakaria and why she’d left. Had his questions and insistence on her staying damaged them in some way? While “I’ll call”, wasn’t the best thing she could have said, it was better than “See you around”, which would have been the nail in the coffin. “What do you think, Cat?” He held the animal up to eye level. Her brown eyes were fascinating. Even more fascinating was the fact

that the cat seemed to be looking right back at him. “Did Sakaria break up with me? I should just give her space, right?” The cat meowed twice, touched his nose with her paw and then meowed once. “Your ear looks much better, Cat.” “I hope she’s not seeing anyone else,” he kept talking to the cat as he walked into the kitchen and flicked on the sink light. The cat meowed twice as she followed him. “You’re not hungry, are you?” The cat meowed twice again and walked past the food bowl to the bedroom. “Okay, you’re a woman. You think she’s still angry with me?” The cat meowed twice from the hallway. Des shook his head. Maybe he should stop using the cat like a magic eight ball. He was starting to sound crazy even to himself. Best thing would be to get some sleep and think about it in the morning.

Chapter Thirteen The man rapped twice before opening the back screen door. Sakaria peeked over the edge of the table from her vantage point on Des’s lap, giving the stranger the once-over as she twitched her tail. Since they’d had the argument, she hadn’t seen Des at all in her human form. He still continued to come to the café, according to Julie. However, no amount of persuasion or threats by Julie could make her go out front to face him. Sakaria didn’t know what to do about Des, how to get this curse off her nor how to deal with the feelings she had about him. So, she chose to not think about it and simply spend time with him as a cat. Much more fun than going out in the street at night and safer too. Halloween was drawing closer, not a safe time for cats. However, she still held out hope that Des would be able to help her, which is why she continued her nightly visits. Leave clues, Julie had told her. That shouldn’t be against the spell. But Sakaria couldn’t be sure and was hesitant to do anything other than what Will said. It made her angry that he even had a say in all of this. This was the first she’d spent time in cat form with Des during the day and thus her first time encounter with Ryan. He was a little taller than Des was, but had the same close shaved hair that was dark against his walnut-brown skin. But this one was exuberant and expressive where Des was quiet and contained. She ducked back down. Too much energy for her. Des kept his eyes on the laptop screen. He had been working for most of the morning, muttering under his breath and actually telling her how much people tried to cheat the system with claims. He also told her, the cat, how much he really liked Sakaria, the woman, and how he wished he knew why Sakaria, the woman, always left and never stayed the night. It was difficult for her to just sit there, meowing in all the right places without just shifting and telling him the entire story from beginning to end. When she slept now, she was frightened that the shift back to human would stop working. The panicky feeling would stay with her for most of the day as she went around doing her human tasks in her human form. Julie was right, she’d had her head in the sand and now time was ticking away on her. She was very afraid.

“How is it,” Des said slowly to the man now standing in his dining room, “that you find the nerve to just walk into people’s houses without waiting for an invite?” “Door was open, you were sitting right there, bro. I knocked.” Jaw working at a wad of gum in his cheek, Ryan yanked a chair out and folded himself into it, leaning until he balanced on the back two legs. “So you coming to the party on Saturday or what? Bring your girl too.” Yes, Sakaria thought, he’s pushy. Desmond gave a slight sigh that only she could feel. “It’s a possibility. Sakaria and I sort of had a fight.” Not a fight, Sakaria thought. Only a slight disagreement. “Either way you should still come. Lots of good looking girls are going to be there.” He popped his gum, causing Sakaria to jump. He wasn't bad looking, Sakaria thought, peeking over the edge of the table at him again, but so much like a strong wind before a storm. His energy enveloped the room. “Oh, yeah, your fireman status guarantees the presence of good looking girls, I forgot.” Des looked at his cousin. “Maybe I’ll stop by, just to support you and your social endeavors.” “Hey!” The front rungs of the chair hit the hardwood floor with a bang as Ryan got up. “You got yourself a cat?” In two strides, he hovered over her and rubbed her head roughly. She yowled in protest. For goodness sake! Des reacted immediately. “Are you trying to pull her head off?” He warded off his cousin's hand. Sakaria lashed out with one paw and scratched him, not as hard as she could have but enough to teach him a lesson. “Damnit!” Ryan examined the shallow scratches. “She got me.” “I bet that happens a lot.” Des said with amusement in his voice. “You should be used to it.” Ryan snorted as he went back to his chair. “You and Sakaria had a fight? You must not be banging her right.” Des snorted. “Banging. Ridiculous term.” Ryan nodded knowingly. “If it’s right, she’ll come back. They always do.” He cracked his gum. “So what’s Miss Pussy’s name?”

Sakaria’s ears pricked at the question. Des hadn’t called her anything but Cat this and Cat that. She would be very interested to know how he answered this question. “How do you know it’s a she?” Get to the point, she thought and let out a mew of impatience that neither man noticed. Ryan barked a laugh. “You wouldn’t have some stray tomcat snuggled against your jewels. And, she hasn't taken her eyes off me since I've been here. Definitely a girl.” He paused. “So what's her name?” “Cat.” “Cat? What?” Des shrugged. “She’s not really mine, I mean she comes and goes whenever.” “Aww,” Ryan said. “Just casual dates? No long term commitment? Real pretty cat though. Call her Foxy, you know like Foxy Brown.” Des sighed. “Foxy Brown?” “Most definitely. That’ll be the closest you’ll ever get to Pam Grier in this lifetime.” He snapped his fingers. “See you Saturday, right? With or without Sakaria.” He turned to go, then turned back. “Just don’t bring the cat, please.” He laughed. Sakaria yowled in protest. She didn’t mind the name Foxy, but she wasn’t going to just sit here and be insulted. Des rubbed her head. “I think you hurt her feelings.” Ryan laughed. “I think you need to spend more time with Miss Sakaria and less time with that cat. See you Saturday. Anytime after eight.” “Saturday. Yeah.” Des said absently as his cousin left. Sakaria jumped onto the table. “So what do you think of the name Foxy?” Sakaria gave a distracted mew and paced back and forth on the table, thinking. She didn’t know what to do. Some days she was content to just be a cat and to let the chips fall where they may. Other times, she wanted to beat the curse, to remain human and be with Des. She didn’t have much time left. What was she going to do? **** He was on the sofa, watching television when he heard the flap of the cat door. “Foxy?”

She was on top of him, in his lap before he could say anymore, mewling, kneading her paws against his shirt and rubbing her face against his neck and hands. “Where do you go all day, girl?” He massaged the space between her ears. The little notch in her ear was barely noticeable with the fur grown up around it. “Busy social life? Hope you’re staying out of trouble. Not like me.” Foxy meowed sympathetically and touched her paw to his face. “You understand what I mean, right? The girl I’m seeing won’t cooperate.” The cat’s eyes flew open and she stood up and gave a long drawn out meow, making him laugh. “Just like you, right? You women are all the same.” Foxy jumped on the coffee table and began pacing back and forth. Her tail stuck straight in the air and she began a litany of yowling, meowing and hissing that sounded like she was telling him off. “All right, maybe not all the same.” Foxy meowed and got back into his lap. He was forgiven. **** Later that night, the dream started as usual. Foxy stalked around, jumping on his lap, jumping on the TV remote, jumping on a book he was trying to read. He didn’t dare take out the wood-burning tool because she would jump on that. It almost seemed as if the cat wanted him to go to bed. Maybe she was tired too. Running around in the streets probably took a lot out of her. He brushed his teeth and got into bed, fell asleep almost immediately with the sound of the cat’s purring in his ears. The dream started as usual. Moments after the spicy scent of cinnamon and vanilla drifted over him she was there, her naked warm body pressed against his. “Desmond,” she whispered in his ear as she planted kisses on his neck and face. “I miss you.” She licked him, a slow sensuous trailing of her tongue from below his ear down his neck. “You taste so good,” she whispered, continuing her trail down his body until she reached his dick, which was hard and waiting for her.

She slipped him in her mouth and he moaned, the warm wetness causing his cock to harden more. She slid her lips down his shaft, kissing and licking, teasing him until he thought he was going to explode, then took him in fully, sucking hard and winding her soft, wet tongue in an agonizingly slow, sweeping pattern around the tip. Her breath warmed him, bringing to life the areas she had touched with her tongue. He reached down and brushed his fingers across her hair and her face, his senses deceiving him into thinking this was reality. Her lips were full, wet and soft against his dick as she continued to slide her mouth on him, creating a strong suction that brought him close to the edge. Her loose, wild hair, what seemed like miles of it, slipped and slid across his body, spreading her scent all over him. “Sakaria,” he whispered hoarsely, feeling the orgasm start to build. Her tongue swirled faster, flicking ever so lightly at the tip. He must be going crazy. Nothing could feel this good and be a dream. Then, suddenly, she was on top of him, her hair a cloud around her face as she smoothly slid herself onto his cock. He watched her face as she settled on to him, her eyes half-lidded, a kittycat smile playing across her face as she moved slowly up and down. Her hands drew feathery patterns across his chest as he matched her rhythm, hoping to give her as much pleasure as she was giving him. He placed his hands on her waist to steady her and watched as she gently stroked her own breasts, rolling the nipples between her fingers until they stood up like hard, smooth pebbles. She moved faster now, leaning forward until they were both were enveloped in the curtain of her hair. “Sakaria,” he murmured again and kissed her, pulling her to him, letting his tongue wander into her mouth. Her pussy fluttered around his cock as her orgasm approached, intensifying the pleasurable sensation. He thrust into her harder, wanting her to come, needing to see the pleasure/pain on her face as she went over the edge with a surprised “oh!” that was followed by his own wrenching explosion. He gasped, his eyes closing tight, emptying himself into her. When he opened his eyes, or thought he opened his eyes, only Foxy was there, curled up in a ball on the other pillow, snoring away.

He sat up in bed, bewildered, but awake. He was sure of it. Sort of. But there was no Sakaria, only Foxy on the next pillow, snoring. Just… weird. He lay down and went back to sleep. **** Sakaria watched him through slit cat eyes, feigning sleep. She almost got caught this time. The sex was getting so good that she didn’t want to shift back to cat. She wanted to cuddle against him, feel the stickiness of their bodies together. Then, in the morning, she wanted to sleep late while he made breakfast. Early mornings were not her forte. She settled into the curve of her body more deeply and tucked her tail in for sleep.

Chapter Fourteen Desmond went to the Halloween party reluctantly, mostly because he didn't want to hear Ryan's constant yakking about him not going anywhere and partly because he had some irrational thought that he might see Sakaria. He rather regretted bringing up the issue of her not staying the night, but it was important to him to know what was going on. Foxy had been missing in action all day. He was a bit worried about her. Halloween wasn’t the best time for cats to run the streets. He placed chicken salad and another bowl of water on the floor and left, making sure the cat door was unlocked. He still wondered how she was able to get out in the first place. He was pretty sure that he had locked the cat door last night before he went to bed. As soon as he entered Ryan’s house, a two-story modern colonial, loud music and bright costume colors assaulted him. There were the requisite zombies, the sexy vampires and the lazy ghosts. Then there were the clever costumes, those that he didn’t care enough about to figure out. Ryan came up to him, all smiles and charm and handed him a cold beer. “You made it,” he said as Desmond twisted off the top and took a fortifying swallow. “Yeah. I’m here,” he said, looking around. He looked at his cousin, dressed in a long sleeved t-shirt and jeans. “No costume?” “I’m dressed as an off duty firefighter.” Ryan pointed at the little appliquéd red flame on the shirt. Desmond laughed. “You just don’t want to look like a douche.” “Exactly.” He gestured around them. “I love this holiday. Women dress in sexy costumes and get drunk. What could be better?” He drained his bottle and tossed it into the recycling bin. “I think I might have seen your girl here. Why didn’t you come together?” “I told you, we had a little disagreement.” Ryan raised his eyebrows but said nothing. “Well, I think she’s here.” He brightened. “Really?” “Yeah, she came with Julie who won’t give me the time of day. Go find your girl. Tell her to tell Julie-baby that I’m totally cool.” Ryan clapped him on the back and moved on.

The key was to keep moving. Don’t get trapped against a wall or in a corner by some woman over eager to snag a quickie. He moved from room to room. He didn’t want some insincere, drunk female lying about how interesting his job was. He turned a corner into some random hallway and he saw her. Rather, he saw her hair, the long, thick multicolored hair that was, he realized now, eerily similar in color to Foxy’s. A totally insane thought began germinating in the back of his head, one that he shook off very, very quickly before it started to grow. Des hurried over to where she was engaged in conversation with Julie and a couple of her friends. He touched her on the arm. “Sakaria.” She immediately turned toward him as if she were just waiting for an excuse to get out of the huddle. “Desmond, hi!” She looked a little drunk, but pleased to see him. So far, so good. He took her arm and led her to a quieter corner. He had a million things he wanted to say to her, but not one of them would come. “How’s your cat?” She finished her drink and tossed the plastic cup in the trash. “Still pushing the food bowl away?” Desmond looked at her. How did she know about that? Was that something that cats did in general? And why was she mentioning this now? “True,” he said slowly. “She’s been away all day too. I’m a little worried.” She nudged him playfully. “What did you do, threaten to spay her?” She laughed lightly. “She might not like that too much.” “I don’t think anyone would.” He was standing very close to her, close enough to catch a whiff of her sweet, alcoholic breath. Because he had nothing to say, he studied her. She wore a low scooped neck white t-shirt, a coffeecolored sweater and a long black skirt. She had, of all things, a headband with brown cat ears stuck crookedly in her thick, curly hair, which for once was loose and hung heavily down her back. She saw him looking at the ears and touched them self-consciously. “I'm not a big costume wearer,” she laughed and glanced at his outfit of blue oxford shirt and jeans. “I can see that you aren't either.”

“Not really my style.” He wasn’t going to repeat the douche comment he’d made to Ryan. Point was, she was here and talking to him and that was what mattered. “Me neither.” She raised her hand to her right ear and fiddled with her earring. He noticed that there was a tiny notch taken out of the top of her ear. Funny he hadn’t noticed that before. Sakaria noticed him looking and blushed. Pulled some hair over the imperfection. “Earring accident,” she explained quickly. “Bad place for a piercing.” Des nodded. It seemed like something he would have seen, but maybe not. Funny how Foxy had injured her ear also. He opened his mouth to say so when she lowered her voice and moved closer, causing all thoughts of ears to fly out the window. “I’m sorry about the other night, Des.” She tilted her head to the side and the cat ears wobbled slightly. “You accept my apology?” “Yes,” he said immediately. “But can I ask you a question?” Her face immediately became guarded. “What about?” He lowered his voice too. “You and me. Can we… you know, take this further?” “I don’t know.” Her expression was unreadable. “What do you mean you don’t know?” She was killing him with her “I don’t knows” and “I’m not sures”. He wanted answers from her that she wasn’t giving. “I want to take you home and have you stay the night.” “You want to take me home? What am I some stray c—” she stopped. “Some stray off the street?” “Of course not. I want you to wake up in the morning with me.” He reached out and touched her wrist. “That’s all I’m asking.” “I can’t. I told you I can’t.” She crossed her arms across her chest. “But…” “Listen, Des,” she placed a hand on his arm. “I’ll be right back, okay? I have to find Julie and tell her something.” “I’ll wait for you.” “Ten minutes.” She walked off, her little kitty ears perched crookedly on her head. She never came back. ****

Sakaria splashed water on her face and avoided her own eyes in the bathroom mirror. Who was she kidding? Did she actually expect to walk off into the sunset with this straight laced guy? Enough with the dreaming and the imagination. She blotted her face with a tissue and checked her watch. She had a few hours left to walk on two legs. Everything was in place for Julie to smoothly transition in as owner of Café Dolce. The letter to her parents explaining the truth. She would simply disappear. That would be best. She flicked off the light and made her way to the back door of Ryan’s house, slipping out to her car. At home she paced back and forth, resisting the urge to shift, even thought she so badly wanted to. This was her last time as a human, why not live it out as she should? But still she paced and paced, watching the clock tick by until she couldn’t control herself. What’s an extra few minutes? Why not just do it now? She went into the bedroom to make sure the bed was made, when she saw it. So much for listening to Will. Time to bring out the big guns. What could she lose? Sakaria stripped off her clothes, took one last look around and shifted. She picked up the object in her mouth and hit the cat flap with a determined whack as she left. **** Desmond tossed his car keys on the dining room table, not caring that they skittered across the polished cherry wood surface and landed on the rug below. What had he done to chase her away? There was always something. Maybe his job was too boring. Maybe he talked too much about the cat? But she asked him about it, right? Speaking of which… “Foxy!” He searched for the cat under the sofa, chairs and finally under the bed. He even opened all the closets in the house just in case she had accidently gotten closed in. “Foxy!” He went into the kitchen and got his answer. The chicken salad was still in the bowl. She hadn’t been back since last night. Desmond sat down on the sofa, defeated. He’d lost a girl and a cat on the same night. What a memorable Halloween. He went to his room and began snatching off his clothes to get ready for bed when he heard the cat door.

“Foxy? I thought something had happened to you.” At least the cat came back, he thought. He didn’t totally lose out. The brown streak of fur ran into the bedroom and jumped on the bed, dropped the object out of her mouth. A fat cardinal bird. He stared at it, disbelieving what his mind was telling him. But yet it made sense. The cat made a sound, a loud, stretched, yowling sound that surprised him with its intensity. She batted at the cardinal and it jumped, its black glassy eyes fixed on him. Foxy fixed him with a probing stare, her tail flicking and switching in the air about her. She opened her mouth and he watched her ears rotate backwards… The ear with the notch in it. Everything fell into place. The friend’s cat and the cat toys, the dreams that weren’t dreams, and the cardinal. Foxy made a tiny, encouraging meow. Couldn’t be, but it was the only way anything made any sense. Or else he was simply going insane. “Sakaria?” **** The coldness whooshed across her scalp as the shifting rushed through her. It was much stronger this time and somehow deeper as though she could actually feel her mitochondria flowing and changing. The shift done, she crouched naked on the bedspread blinking at the colors she could now properly see. Quickly, she pulled the quilt up and around her and chanced a look at Desmond’s face. His eyes were wide, a not unexpected reaction to a cat morphing into a woman before one’s eyes. “Hi,” she said, pulling the quilt closer around her. “Uh, surprise? Happy Halloween?” He blinked. Twice. Stared at her. “I don’t believe it. Even though I saw it.” “Desmond…” He continued as if he hadn’t heard her. “But on the other hand it makes perfect sense. You’re a cat. I mean, why not, right?” He laughed. “Perfect sense.” “Are you all right?” Sakaria felt slightly panicky. She was glad the curse was over, but Des seemed a little nutty about the whole thing. Understandably so, but she hoped he’d come to terms with it. “I know it’s a shock.”

Des sat down next to her on the bed, his eyes fixed on her as if he expected something else to happen. “I just thought you were married. Had a secret baby. Or were a serial killer.” He paused. “That last would have been a little farfetched.” He smiled faintly and shook his head. “But a shape-shifting cat is not something you run across every day.” Eyes narrowed, Sakaria shot him a look. “I think you’re making fun of me now.” “Of you? Never. I promise you that.” He appraised her briefly. “You hair looks longer.” Sakaria closed her eyes. Opened them. “Are you even processing this?” “I knew people who talked to dogs and cats. Maybe they knew something.” He stopped. “How did this happen? Did you eat something? Offend an old person? That’s usually how these spells are cast.” “I guess I offended this guy...” She told him the entire story, including the visit to Will’s house. “You threatened to scratch his balls? That’s vicious, Sakaria. And you seem so sweet.” His eyes twinkled in amusement. Sakaria shrugged her bare shoulders in mock contrition. “What else could I do? He was being obstinate.” She touched his arm. “I would never, ever, do anything like that again.” She held up her hand. “I totally promise.” “Good to hear.” There was silence for a moment. Nervousness made Sakaria’s stomach churn. Why wasn’t he saying anything? Then, “You know, you could have told me sooner.” She sighed. “It’s not something you can just come out with.” “But I told you I was an insurance claims processer right away. I think being a shapeshifter is a hell of a lot more interesting.” Sakaria burst out laughing. “You’re serious?” “Had I known, I certainly wouldn’t have taken you to that place where they had the fish tank.” “It wasn’t that bad.” Only that she had kept excusing herself for the ladies room to stare at the fish. “Just a slightly embarrassing.” Sakaria held up her thumb and forefinger a half inch apart. “Hey,” he pulled her toward him, quilt and all. He brushed her hair off her shoulders and kissed the bare flesh. “You never have to be

embarrassed. It’s over. You’re here, I’m here, you and me… that’s all that matters.” He kissed her lips before she could answer. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to finally relax into his embrace, relieved that the heavy burden she had been carrying was lifted. His hands tugged at the quilt she held around her. “Let me see you.” He cupped her breasts in his hands and kissed her neck as he gently thumbed her nipples. Arousal overtook her almost immediately; she went from being slightly afraid of his reaction to her situation to being on the brink of climax. His caresses ignited a fire in her that hadn’t been present in their previous lovemaking. She moaned and squirmed on the bedclothes as he took one of her nipples in his mouth and began sucking it slowly, making lazy circles round the hardened flesh with his tongue and nipping at the tip with his teeth. His hands stroked the length of her body, gently teasing and caressing her flesh. Kissing her navel, he slid a hand between her damp thighs and brushed his fingers against her clit. A trill of excitement jolted through Sakaria’s body, causing her to jump and let out a small squeak. Her fingers danced encouragingly across the top of his head. “Desmond, please,” she begged, although she didn’t know what she was begging for. “Shhh,” he told her. He leaned in close to her mound, blew lightly on her pussy, then flicked his tongue across her clit. Sakaria whimpered, arching her back to bring her pussy closer to his mouth. Every fiber of her body was on fire, her consciousness focused solely on his tongue on her clit. The pressure began to build in her lower belly as he relentlessly swept his tongue back and forth across the sensitive bud. “Desmond,” she gasped. His fingers pressed into her and he twisted them gently. Sakaria lifted her hips again toward his mouth, shamelessly fucked his fingers. She placed her hand, none too gently, on the back of his head silently begging for more, lost in the erotic sensation. He increased the pressure of his tongue on her clit slightly, enough to send her orgasm shooting through her. Like a balloon

popping, she exploded, delicious tremors vibrating over her entire body. Desmond placed his hand on her still trembling belly, traced designs around her navel. He kissed her neck then her lips. His eyes were full of hot lust and that excited her. She kissed with a fervor that she couldn’t have imagined she would feel about anyone. He gripped her so tightly that she nearly lost her breath. She ran her tongue up and around his ear, then licked his neck. His sweat was salty and she could smell his bright woodsy scent. She squirmed under him, rubbing her wet, aching clit against his cock. “Don’t do that,” he warned her, kissing her neck. “You’re going to make me go off.” “Then stop being selfish,” she whispered hotly in his ear. “Give me what I want.” He laughed softly and lifted her hips. Slowly, he slid into her until he was buried to the hilt. Sakaria closed her eyes, abandoning herself to the feeling. She wrapped both legs around his waist and pulled him more tightly against her, sighing her ecstasy. “You like it,” he asked, moving within her. “Yes,” she breathed. “I love it.” “Good.” He stroked her with his dick, holding her hips so that he hit the sensitive spot. Sakaria shivered as the sweet, aching tension started to build. She chased the sensation, clenching her pussy walls around him and moving her hips with his rhythm. In what seemed like no time, she shuddered and trembled beneath as she reached her climax, her pussy spasming around his cock. Desmond gripped her hips more tightly, groaning in his throat as he thrust into her. He came in a rush, kissing her roughly as he shuddered against her. They lay in each other’s arms, gasping for breath. Sakaria glanced over at the clock. Twelve fifteen. Well done, she thought. Hopefully, dude got that part right at least. o more ‘be the cat’. Just as she thought that, the familiar tingling started in the tips of her fingers. Not as strong as usual and she easily pushed the urge down without a thought. But still… “Desmond?” “Yes,” he yawned.

“Do me one favor,” she said, snuggling closer to him. “Anything,” he brushed the hair back from her face. “Anything and it’s yours.” “Don’t close up the cat door,” she murmured and fell asleep.

The End

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