Basic Witch_Witches of Salem

6

When I woke up the next morning, I wasn’t sure where I was. But as my bleary eyes widened and the room came into focus, the unbelievable events of the night before came rushing back to me.

I stretched my arms over my head and snuggled closer to the center of the bed, expecting to feel Beau’s warmth at my back. What I got instead was a black ball of fluff who was quite displeased by my selfish disruption of her sleep.

Beau was gone.

“Hey! Stay on your own side. Some of us are trying to sleep here,” Titus complained.

“Says the cat who thinks my face is an appropriate napping spot.”

“It’s the only way I can muffle the sounds of you snoring,” she said.

“I do not snore!”

“How would you know?” She opened one eye and peered at me. “It happens while you’re asleep.”

I didn’t want to admit it, but the feline made a good point. “I might have liked you better when I couldn’t hear you talking.” I flung the blankets back and sat up, swiveling to plant my bare feet on the cold wood floor.

“Five more minutes.”

“Fine,” I said. “I’m going to take a shower.”

I padded into the bathroom and stripped down, nearly recoiling when stepped into the bathtub. My brain must have consciously blocked out the filth I discovered last night. I gritted my teeth, closed my eyes and turned the faucet, bracing for an onslaught of ice-cold water to rain down on my head.

But nothing happened.

I opened my eyes and squinted up at the showerhead for a moment before growling in frustration. I stomped over the edge of the tub, barely avoiding a violent collision with the ground, and snatched up my clothes. I pulled on my yoga pants, yanked my sweater over my head and shoved my feet back into my boots. I wadded my wilted socks and yesterday’s panties, shoving them into an empty basket on a shelf. At least I could grant myself the one small dignity of not traipsing around my new town in dirty underthings.

I wound my wild mess of waves into a loose top knot on the way to the kitchen, where Titus was waiting expectantly.

“Mew.”

“You don’t have to do the cute-meow-for-food thing anymore. You can just tell me you’re hungry,” I told her.

“But my cuteness is so effective. Why reinvent the wheel?” She stared up at me and blinked her eyes. “Mew.”

“Oh, for…” I bent down and stroked her back. “The mealtime meow is pretty freaking cute. You can keep it. But that doesn’t solve our breakfast dilemma.”

I opened the fridge, taking out the bottle of milk. “This is pretty much your only option.” I poured some milk into a saucer and started to set it on the ground, then changed my mind when I saw the cobwebs collecting along the base of the cabinets. If there was ever a time to let my cat hang out on a kitchen counter, this was it. “You can eat on the counter. But only until this place has been properly cleaned,” I warned.

“This will do for now.” She jumped up and began lapping the milk as I perused the herb-filled glass canisters in search of coffee. A few minutes later, she pawed at my arm.

“What?” I continued to lift each jar lid in succession, sniffing the contents, as I used my free hand to pat her head absently.

“What about second breakfast?”

“Already?”

“I’m a growing cat!”

“You are not.” I sighed. “But I am dying for some coffee. It seems like people take their pets everywhere around here. Maybe we can find a place where we can both eat.”

“I liked the place from last night,” she chirped.

“Me too. But a diner all the way across town that’s frequented by werewolves is hardly the best place for a small cat to hang out. Besides, it just occurred to me that I don’t have any money.”

“Yes, you do.” She purred and pranced over to a small blue velvet bag sitting on the edge of the counter. After nudging the bag with her nose, she set about shredding the piece of paper folded next to it.

“Hey! What are you tearing up?”

“Nothing important,” she said.

“Give me that!” I swiped it out of her grasp and unfolded it. My heart skipped as I saw the signature at the bottom. “It’s from Beau.”

“Like I said. Nothing important.”

Gemma,

Deepest apologies for leaving without saying goodbye this morning. I had an early class and didn’t want to wake you. The Coven is arranging for your signing bonus and salary to be deposited in the Bank of Salem, but until then, you’ll need some money to navigate around town. This should be enough to take care of breakfast, pick up some essentials and buy some new clothes. It’s chilly outside. I left my coat on the hook near the shop entrance. I’ll return at noon to take you to lunch.

Yours,

Beau

Yours. I let out a wistful sigh. It hadn’t even been a full day, and Beau was already proving to more chivalrous than any man I’d ever dated. Not that we were actually dating. Yet.

I picked up the bag, which was unusually heavy for its size, and loosened the silver drawstring to peek inside.

An entire bag full of gold coins? Well, that was different.

“It’s your lucky day, cat.”

“Yaaasss!” She leaped off the counter and darted for the door. “Second breakfast, here we come!”

“Technically, it’s my first breakfast.”

“Semantics.”

I draped my scarf around my neck, opened the apartment door and made my way downstairs, pausing to slip into Beau’s coat as Titus waited impatiently at my feet.

“Okay, Lovie. Ready for our first daytime excursion into Salem?”

“I’m ready for breakfast. And remember, you promised to share if I was nice to Smallish. And I was. I didn’t even hiss or anything!”

“It’s not like you won’t get your own breakfast, but whatever. You’re right. I’ll share.”

With a deep breath, I unlatched the door, pushed it open, and ventured into the bright autumn morning with my feline familiar at my side.