What’s New Pussycat(8)
Hector lifted his glasses and wiped his eyes. “Yeah. That’s the funny in this. You, the crappy communicator, has to somehow communicate with someone who can’t. It’s priceless.”
Derrick fought a sharp retort. Mostly because Hector was right. Among his many flaws, he also wasn’t very good at communicating. That’s why he’d turned to Hector. Hector could talk a coon out of raiding a garbage can in ten seconds flat. No doubt he could communicate with his cat. “So any thoughts on what I should do? You’re so good with animals…”
Hector pulled his knit cap tighter over his ears, letting his goggles drop around his neck as he shook his head. “Oh, hell no. No, no, no. I’m not getting in the middle of the mate. And she’s not just a cat. She’s a shifter cat, meaning she’s half human woman. I suck at talking to women, and you know it. Sometimes I’m glad my DNA got all screwed up because it means I’m not forced to mate. But I’ll give you a little tip—don’t yell at her. You yell a lot.”
A lot? “Do I?”
Hector rolled his eyes and mimicked him. “Do I?” he squawked in a perfect imitation of Derrick. “Are you kidding me? You’re always yelling about something.”
He blustered at first, but then he gave that some thought. He did yell. Maybe it was from the years spent working in his bar in town, where he was always breaking up fights, or maybe it was from fighting for attention in a family of two sisters and an older brother. “Okay, so I’m impatient, and in my impatience, I get noisy sometimes. It’s not intentional.”
Hector threw up his gloved hand, the fingers of the wooly material cut off. “Exactly. But we all know that’s just Derrick. We know you and your big mouth. We’re used to you getting frustrated easily. But a woman? One you have to spend the rest of your life with? You might want to reign that shit in, pal. Use your indoor voice. Cats are skittish—easily scared.”
Derrick rocked back on his feet, nodding. “Fair enough. Any other tips?”
“A ball of yarn? Catnip? Oh! Salmon. Bet she’d like some salmon, and maybe one of those kitty condos. You know, with all the tiers and the carpet on them? Good exercise.”
Derrick scowled at him, his foul mood growing fouler. “Not laughing.”
Hector shrugged with a wide grin as he made his way toward the opening of the barn. “It’s all good, dude. I’ll laugh for you,” he said, before laughing again, the echo of it scaring the birds sitting atop the bales of hay in the rafters.
As Derrick watched Hector exit the barn, he sighed.
A cat.
He needed to get to his mothers and grab some cans of tuna. Hopefully he’d be able to get in and out before she began the inevitable round of questions and answers about his mate.
His mate the cat.
Christ.
Chapter Four
Martine spent the afternoon wandering Derrick’s home, familiarizing herself with the nooks and crannies in case escape was necessary. Hopping onto his bed, she lay down on the pillow where he rested his head every night, because it smelled delicious. Like musk and pine and Derrick.
She was hoping as she settled into her new surroundings, the tingle of her shift would somehow magically appear and if nothing else, she could explain to Derrick how she’d gotten stuck in the first place.
Escobar. That’s how she’d gotten stuck in cat form. How Escobar had found out about her, or from who, was still a mystery. She’d lived a life almost entirely magic free until Escobar. Free from the crazy that was this world of paranormals she wanted no part of.
Free from her ugly past.
She’d made it her mission to only shift when her body couldn’t take the bone-crushing pressure not to do so any longer, and even then, she took a quick run, flexed her kitty muscles, and she was back in human form pronto.
She hid from everyone and everything supernatural, and she’d planned to keep right on hiding until Escobar had come along.
Since she’d left home at the tender age of eighteen, she hadn’t looked back. She’d made a niced life for herself. Gone to college on a scholarship, found a good job, saved until she’d almost put Ramen Noodles out of business then began a journey into self-employment. But most of all, she’d avoided all messy entanglements.
Life had been damn good until Escobar showed up.
Now that she was out from under his thumb, somehow out from under the spell he’d cast on her, dooming her to the confines of his condo in Manhattan and that crazy catio he’d locked her up in, she should be able to switch forms.
So what the what, universe?
She’d heard him spew the spell with her own ears and it had involved tethering her only to his condo. So what was the hell was taking so long, and who’d confiscated her from Escobar’s and dumped her at a 7-Eleven?