Down on the Charm (Farm to Fable Paranormal Cozy Mysteries Book 1) by E.L. Wilder

Author:E.L. Wilder [Wilder, E.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Faulty Broomstick Publishing
Published: 2019-11-12T07:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Hazel wasn’t entirely sure how to talk to a cat, never mind one that broke all the rules of cat assembly. So she just dumbly asked, “What do you mean I’ve finally come?”

The cat stopped licking its paw and turned its head to consider her. The voice came to her again, not something she heard so much as felt, like the beginning pangs of a headache. I’ve been waiting for you for years, Hazel. Though if I’m being honest, and I’m always being honest, I’d expected something less primped and more primed.

“You’re the cat on the crest.”

Guilty. Kind of. That crest represents more than just your family heritage. My history is wrapped up with the history of the Bennett Family. You could say we are inextricably linked.

“You’re a familiar!”

That’s presumptuous, the cat said. We hardly know each other, never mind being familiar.

“Well you seem to know a lot about me,” she said. “Who are you?”

Clancy.

“Clancy?” she repeated, incredulous.

It’s a pet name, he said, his eyes glinting wickedly. After my favorite author of the mundane world.

“What’s your real name?” she asked.

To pronounce it correctly, you would need a second larynx.

“Got just the one, sorry,” she said. “But let’s hear you say it. Or do I need two sets of ears to hear it?”

Clancy cocked his head in a sort of shrug, opened his mouth, and unleashed a piercing shriek that ended with one of the carriage windows shattering.

“Clancy it is,” she said when he finally stopped. This cat was all kinds of wrong. Including his coloring—the black fur with flashes of desert sand. “Aren’t most torties female?”

Maybe, he said, genuinely unsure, cocking his head to the side. But I’m not really a cat. Or maybe you hadn’t noticed. He flicked his tails for emphasis.

“If I had to describe you to a police sketch artist, I’d definitely have them start with a cat. A smudged cat.”

You’ll see. Every Bennett has struggled with this simple truth. But why should you be the one to believe?

“How far back do our families go?”

We’ve had a pact that originates when the first stone at Bennett manor was set. You’ve skipped out on your side of the bargain.

“My side of it?” she said dumbly, but then it struck her. “You’re supposed to be my familiar?”

My is a strong word. There are no owners here. This is a partnership. If I’m your familiar, then you’re my familiar too.

“What do we get out of this partnership?”

Focus, he said. That word again. Familiars boost each other’s powers, like a feedback loop.

“How many focuses does one witch need?” A phone booth, a hairpin—why not add a cat?

As many as she can get her hands on, he said. Assuming she wants to work real magic. It would be helpful if you already knew this.

“There was a lapse in my education.”

A lapse or a malaise?

“I’m trying to learn,” she said. “But I can’t find the right textbooks.”

What can you cast? he asked, an unmistakable disdain creeping into his tone.

Hazel sucked air through her teeth and tried to think of how to respond.

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