The Psychic Cat Mysteries: Stories 1-5 by S M Reine

Author:S M Reine
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Red Iris Books

6

Drastic Measures

Were things in my home to remain stable, I would have wished for the garden to stay as such, if only for Gwyn’s sake. I had no real issue with the state of the world outside my walls. It was exciting indeed. At least I had something different to watch through the glass.

Things were not stable, however.

Shortly after Gwyn left again, I settled down for my second afternoon nap in my favorite spot: the windowsill with the best sunbeams at this time of day. The sun wasn’t as warm coming through the weird storm overhead, but the light was good enough.

Until suddenly it was not, because there was no light at all.

My eyes popped open to find that yet another tree had appeared. This one was just beyond the boundary created by Suzy’s fence. It was tall and thick, with a canopy that shot out in every direction. It blotted out all light. Artificial night had fallen upon my home, and dawn would never come again if I didn’t find a way to stop this.

How was I supposed to nap without sunlight?

What had seemed like a low-priority issue was now the highest priority possible.

I promptly set about ensuring the house was still empty—no sign of Suzy or her foul mate—then took my human form. I was uncomfortable with the risk of shapeshifting at home. Yet it was the only way that I could let myself into the Special Room where Suzy kept her most interesting books.

I hadn’t tried to assume my human form since being shackled by that cait sidhe. I wasn’t entirely sure it would work.

Imagine my surprise when I reassumed my human form easily, slipping off my fur with a thought.

“Fascinating!” I turned to consider myself in the hall mirror.

My skin was the same colorless black as my fur. My eyes were large and luminous as ever, set atop a triangular face framed with poofs of curls. As my feline form had grown, so had my human form. I’d gained height. My limbs were longer. My cheeks weren’t as plump.

Unfortunately, the collar wasn’t gone.

The delicate gold chain had simply reappeared around my wrist, though don’t ask me how it could have so dramatically transposed position. Perhaps the magic had an easier time making sense of a location change rather than altering the collar’s size enough to fit a human throat.

“Curses,” I muttered.

The Special Room was more cluttered than when I’d first entered. There was nary an empty inch of the shelves at eye level, and it looked like Isobel had taken to hanging more shelves out of reach. I needed a stool to access those dusty old texts now.

I gnawed at the collar on my wrist while reading about the first governor, Zerachiel. Suzy had an entire binder on the subject. Its plastic spine had stood out among the aged leather. At some point in the distant past, someone had printed out a day-by-day log of the magic used to create the Haven. It must have been very old.

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