Cat Me If You Can by Gemma Thorne

Author:Gemma Thorne
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: smart urban fantasy, funny urban fantasy, magic, witches, witchcraft, humorous fantasy, humorous science fiction, psychics, supernatural, paranormal, cozy mystery, contemporary fantasy
Publisher: Gemma Thorne
Published: 2018-10-18T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

I’m coming for you.

Gramma Jude pushed past Journi and stood over the body, staring down at it, while the pigeon surveyed the room in erratic pigeon fashion. Taking a lipstick-stained coffee cup off a nearby desk and spitting tobacco juice in it, Gramma Jude said, “She ain’t dead.”

Behind Journi, Jessie pointed out, “Looks pretty dead to me.”

“Mom is right,” Josephine said, her denim jumpsuit rustling in the quiet as she entered and mirrored Gramma Jude’s stance. Squatting, Josephine hovered her hand over Kim’s pallid face as if prodding her aura for emotions. “She’s emanating fear like paint fumes. She’s alive.”

Gramma Jude sniffed the air, pondered, then said, “She’s a wereopossum.”

Journi’s eyebrows rose like a church lady’s hands during a Sunday sermon. She’d seen a lot of weird in post-Rise Columbus, but a wereopossum was new. “Are you telling me she’s . . . playing dead?”

“Sure am,” Gramma Jude said, nudging Kim with the toe of her boot. “Ain’t that right, missy?”

At first, nothing happened, and Journi stared skeptically at the body, but then Kim hesitantly opened one eye and then the other, staring up at the group in sheepish terror. “Please don’t kill me,” she squeaked.

Jessie gasped, and Gramma Jude looked mildly amused. Josephine helped the wereopossum into a sitting position. “We’re not here to hurt you. You’re safe now.”

A mixture of exasperation and relief swept through Journi. “Kim Strident?”

The woman nodded, glancing at them warily. “Yes . . . that’s me.”

Josephine eyed Kim’s blood-soaked blouse with concern. “Where are you hurt?”

Kim’s wary expression turned awkward, and she looked down at herself. “It’s . . . not blood. It’s ketchup.” She cleared her throat. “I always carry packets on me just in case.”

“In case of what?” Journi asked. “Spontaneous French fries?”

Gramma Jude bent and swiped her finger through the supposed ketchup, tasting it. She seemed to consider the flavor, then said, “Yep. Toe-mato Jam. My seventh favorite brand.”

Journi stared at her. “Why am I not surprised that you have at least seven favorite brands of ketchup?”

Gramma Jude shrugged. “Why am I not surprised that you don’t?”

Ignoring them, Josephine helped the shaking wereopossum to her feet, asking, “Can you tell us what happened?”

“Yeah,” Kim said, swaying and leaning on Josephine for support. She swallowed. “I was cutting up carrots for dinner when someone knocked on the door. I answered, and it was a man asking about Nancy.” Kim froze and grabbed her ketchupped chest as if just remembering the hellhound. “Oh, my God. Nancy.” Lunging for the door, she cried out in frustration as Josephine barred her exit. “I have to go to her!”

Journi decided to consider the question of why a two-hundred-and-fifty-pound fire-breathing hellbeast was named Nancy later. Right now, there were more pressing matters.

“Just wait,” Journi said, doing her best Josephine impression and raising her hands in a don’t panic gesture. “We didn’t see her when we came in, but we’ll find her. Tell us what happened.”

Though the roundness of Kim’s eyes indicated she very much wanted to

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