Excerpt

The same feeling of peace and harmony that I'd sensed down in the store space filled the loft apartment as well, and I pulled in a deep, calming breath, letting myself relax into my surroundings. I walked through the space, ignoring the chaos of boxes around me and instead doing my best to focus on the way the light tracked along the gleaming wood floors, the way the dust motes danced in the sunlight that filtered through the tall windows on the east side of the living room.

That stillness was abruptly broken by a scratching noise coming from somewhere toward the back of the space, followed by a peremptory meow.

What the…?

I set down my mug of tea and hurried toward the back bedroom — the master bedroom, I supposed, since it was the larger of the two and had its own balcony overlooking a not-so-scenic empty lot.

Standing on the balcony and staring through the French door that opened onto it was a large gray cat. It glared at me with huge yellow eyes and meowed again.

Obviously, it wanted in.

Growing up, I'd had a big black and white kitty. Star Ruby, a name my five-year-old self had thought was just perfect for a male cat. Star had been my constant companion all the way up to my senior year of high school, when he passed away after a long and happy life. I'd wanted to get another cat after I moved out, but a series of overly strict landlords had kept that from happening. Over time, I'd gotten used to my cat-less existence, and yet I'd always secretly hoped that one day I'd be living someplace where I could have a cat again.

Well, it seemed as if a cat had literally just turned up on my doorstep.

It doesn't necessarily mean anything, I told myself as I went over to the door. This could be a neighbor's cat just poking around.

Possibly, except I didn't really have any neighbors. Oh, there were businesses to either side — a furniture store and an antique/junk shop — but Josie had told me that no one lived in the apartments above those stores, that the shop owners used them for storage.

Still, cats could range a good ways if they were in the mood.

I opened the door, and the cat immediately entered the bedroom, tail held high, walking as if he owned the place. Smiling a little, I watched as he strolled toward the doorway that opened onto the hall, then paused to rub up against the frame, getting in a good back scratch, marking it with his scent. Afterward, he continued toward the living room before he stopped in the middle of the chaos, eyes narrowing.

Was that cat judging me?

I followed him, then paused, hands planted on my hips. "Hey, I just moved in," I said. Back in the day, I'd always talked to Star like he was a person, and I saw no reason to change that behavior now. "It'll be great when I'm done."

Could a cat arch an eyebrow? His tail flicked from side to side, and then he said in bored tones, "I'll believe it when I see it."

My eyes widened. Had that cat just talked to me?

No, I had to be imagining things. I'd been up since five that morning, wanting to get out of L.A. before the traffic turned truly hideous. I was just tired.

"I assure you, I am talking," he went on, as if in response to the surprised look I must have been wearing. Definitely a male voice, too, slightly contemptuous, as if he just couldn't be bothered with my incredulity. "My name is Archie. And you are?"

"S-selena Marx," I stammered, wondering if the strain of the move had all been too much. Did you know you were having a psychotic break while you were having it?

"Hello, Selena," he said. "I was hoping someone would move in here. It's been quite dull loitering around here and depending on handouts."

Since it seemed I was going to have a conversation with the cat, no matter how crazy such a prospect might have seemed, I figured I might as well roll with it. "This is your house?"

"I've made it my house," Archie replied, which didn't seem like much of an answer at all.

Probably better not to press him on it. "Do you talk to anyone else?"

"No one else in this town is a witch," he said. "Therefore, I can't talk to them."

He made his situation sound so plausible. Maybe it was.

"Good to know," I said lightly. "So…why can you talk to witches? Because I used to have a cat, and I know for a fact that he never talked to me, as much as I might have wanted him to."

"Because I'm not really a cat," Archie responded, now sounding slightly irritated. "I was cursed to be a cat. And let me tell you — spending your days scrounging out of garbage cans and licking your own rear end is definitely a curse."

Somehow, I managed to clamp my lips shut before a snicker could escape them. "I suppose I can see that," I said, trying to keep my voice level. "So, you used to be human?"

"I'm still human inside," he returned pointedly. "I just look like a cat."

Of course. Then again, I wasn't sure I liked the idea of having a human man trapped inside a cat's body hanging around my new house. The situation could be awkward, to say the least.

The Goddess only knows what my face looked like right then. My expression must have shifted, because Archie went on, now sounding downright irritated, "I certainly would have no designs on your person even if I were still in my human form. My interests lie elsewhere."

"You're gay?" I asked, figuring that would be just about par for the course. Naturally, I'd end up someplace haunted by a cat that used to be a gay man.

"I am asexual," he said primly. "Not that we had such a name for it back in the day. I only knew that I wasn't interested in anyone…which is why I ended up in this ridiculous predicament. The witch who put this curse on me didn't want to believe I couldn't be enticed by her charms."

That must have been a hell of a curse. Honestly, I wasn't sure I would have believed such a thing was possible…except that I was standing in the middle of my new living room, having a conversation with a cat.

"What happened to the witch?" I honestly did want to know, because everything I'd read and every belief I held dear about the craft dictated that casting curses was a very bad idea, that whatever evil you put out into the world would come back to you threefold.

"She was run over by a Packard," Archie replied, then added before I could comment, "I have been a cat for a very long time."

Apparently. When was the last time people regularly drove Packards? Long before either I or my mother was born, that's for sure…and probably before even my grandmother was born.

But the curse-casting witch's fate seemed to tell me that my beliefs about casting hexes were valid. At the same time, I had to feel sorry for poor Archie, consigned to an animal's body for decades and decades.

"Well, you're certainly welcome here," I said, knowing I wasn't going to cast him out into the cold, even if I had never planned on having a talking cat as a companion. The poor guy needed shelter, a place he could call his own. "But I suppose that means I'll have to go out and get you some supplies. I don't have a litter box or anything."

"An indoor bathroom," he said then, and looked almost wistful. "That would be a nice change of pace."

Well, I'd been planning to go out and get stocks of toilet paper and Kleenex and other odds and ends anyway. "Any pet stores in town?"

"I don't believe so. There's a Walmart."

Back in L.A., I would never set foot inside a Walmart. I'd always been a Target girl. But now that I was in Globe, I realized I didn't have a lot of options…unless I wanted to drive all the way into Queen Creek or Mesa, two of Phoenix's most southeastern suburbs.

I tried not to sigh. "Okay. Do you want me to get you a bowl of water before I head out?"

"And some salmon treats?" he asked hopefully.

"The cupboard is bare," I said. "I was planning to go to the store after I did some work here."

"Water will have to do, then."

Luckily, I'd brought along a few odds and ends of dishes to tide me over until the ones I'd ordered showed up. I got out a bowl, rinsed it off, and then filled it with water. As soon as I set it on the floor, Archie ambled over and began to drink. He seemed relaxed about the whole thing, but I could tell he must have been pretty thirsty.

How long had he been out on the balcony, just waiting for me to show up?

Poor guy.

I resisted the impulse to reach down and scratch him behind the ears. After all, we didn't know each other that well yet.

"Be back soon," I promised him, and he yawned and headed out to the living room.

"Get me a bed and a scratching post, too."

Hmm. I was starting to get the impression that Archie had a bit of an entitlement complex. However, since I'd already agreed to take him in, I figured there was no point in arguing.

After all, it wasn't as if I couldn't afford to get him a few odds and ends.

I let myself out, wondering all the while what else Globe had in store for me.