Puck: 1-9 - S. G. Ricketts (cat reading book TXT) 📗

at him. He shrank back into the cushions. Still, all the fear and anger from a few moments ago was already passing, and he looked so pathetic. I dropped my head in my hands. “No… The floor’s fine.” Seriously, how insane could my life get in one day? I pressed my palms hard against my eyes, willing the vision before me to vanish. Mittens was still just Mittens, my loveable, dependable cat. Smoking-hott men still only existed on tv, and Joe wasn’t the spawn of a fairy hunter. I took a deep breath. One. Two. Three. I peeked through my fingers. Ariel was still trying to become the couch, clearly awaiting punishment. I groaned. “You’re still here.”

He winced. “You did ask me to remain in this form.”

I pushed myself to my feet and settled in the only available, untainted chair: a piano bench. “Touche.” He waited. I rubbed my face and leaned back against the piano. “First things first, what the hell are you again?”

Ariel started to relax, but his eyes remained wary. “I am a Dinnshenchas, a shape-shifter tasked with protecting women in need, as well as cattle.”

“Cattle?” I shot him a look. “You guard women and cows.” His lips twisted in dry amusement. “How are those two even related?” I said.

He gave me a wry look. “We’re an old race, the Dinnshenchas. A thousand years ago, the main things a man prayed to the Fae for were protection for his women and protection for his cattle. Forgive me for my nature.”

I buried my retort, merely nodding. “Of course. So, because you’re here, I’m obviously what you deemed ‘a woman of need.’”

A spark of amusement lit those freakish yellow eyes. He leaned forward, a lock of black-white hair falling across his face. “My lady, you didn’t see yourself after prom. If anyone was a woman in need, it was you.”

I cringed at the memory. That had been one sorry sight, my shoeless self walking crying down the road in the middle of the night. Martha had ever-so-sweetly informed me that she and Ben were soul mates, while I was just a playtoy, right after I’d walked in on them entangled in the bathroom. I could feel my blood rising at the thought of the things he’d made me do while we were together, the harsh words and harsher realities. I’d burned my prom dress the very same night and Mittens had appeared on my door the next morning. “Fine. I was pathetic, I’ll give you that.”

He smiled at my description. “You needed someone to protect you, so I came. And you’ve definitely kept me busy, I must say.”

“Hold on!” I said, sitting up straighter. He smiled wider. I couldn’t believe it! Hastily, I thought through all my failed relationships, all the lonely nights by myself. “You’re telling me, my years of solitude are your fault?”

Ariel gave a short bow. “Guilty as charged, my lady – Ah! I mean, Rebekkah.” His humor died slightly under my withering look. “They were all awful men. Most were just interested in your prospects.” He jerked his head out the window, and I sighed.

Worse than having a cat stall my love life was knowing he was right. I didn’t need to follow his shrug to know what he meant. 14 acres of prime farming land, Rebekkah’s Roasters, a 1000 square foot barn, and a vintage Victorian-style ranch home had fallen to me with my grandmother’s passing. It was worth at least a few million. I eyed the shape shifter carefully. “Maybe I should have brought you to work, too.”

He heaved a sigh. “I wanted to ask you but didn’t have a chance.” I stuffed the urge to smile, but he sensed the lightening mood. “Rebekkah, none of those men would have been good for you. Most of them I took care of whilest keeping my form. Never in a million years did I think you’d bring home the Lord of Destruction.”

I pulled out my ponytail and ran my fingers through my hair. “Neither did I, although I don’t know why you call him that. Isn’t he just the Anti-Cupid?” I flicked the loosened strands over my shoulders, running my fingers through the deep brown waves. “He’s an ass, sure, but I don’t see how he’s ‘lord’ of anything.”

Ariel’s skin rippled and he shook himself. “If only you could stay so innocent.”

“Joe said that, too,” I grumbled.

The man-cat’s eyebrows rose. “I always did like Joe.”

“He’s gay,” I said. “I guess you would.”

Ariel ignored the barb. “We Dinnshenchas protect women, Rebekkah. There’s a reason we choose the feminine, and it isn’t because we want to paint our toes with you.” I crossed my legs, feeling my face flame up. He sighed and continued, “Your friend is a wise person to listen to. That creature just now goes by many names: Puck, James, and Robin Goodfellow being the most well-known.” I contained my skepticism on the ‘James,’ but let Ariel continue. A little gossip about the mysterious man was too good to resist. “Trust me, my lady. He deserves the title ‘Lord of Destruction.’” He shook his head, eyes narrowed in thought. One finger plucked at a loose thread in the couch and I grimaced. Once a cat, always a cat. “How can I convince you…” The moments stretched by, only the sound of his plucking interrupting the silence. Then, his eyes focused again and I sat up. “Think, Rebekkah. You were an intelligent girl. What were wars started over? The epic battles? Troy? Egypt?”

I shot him a look at “were intelligent,” but sat back to think. Troy was for Helena. Egypt for Cleopatra… I bit my lip. “I suppose the creation of the Anglican Church was his doing, too? And Hitler’s issues, and the fall of Clinton?”

Ariel fairly beamed in delight. I scowled at him. “You are a quick one! I always knew I’d picked the right human to protect. Yes, Robin was the root of all of those downfalls. Think about it, Rebekkah. Every seed of forbidden love, every ruined marriage, every doomed relationship, great or small, came from somewhere. He comes while you are asleep, touching the dream world and tainting the heart.”

I twisted a strand of hair around my finger, thinking. The sun outside was flattening across the horizon, casting strange shadows around the room. Most of Ariel’s face was dark, but his eyes seemed to glow. I shifted uncomfortably. “Then, how does he not know me already? Surely he’d recognize me after the whole Bartha scandal.”

Ariel snorted. “I did always love when you and Joe would discuss Bartha. And no, not necessarily,” he continued, returning to serious. “He visited Martha and Ben. You weren’t a part of his meddling. He’d never met you until last night, I suspect. Otherwise, he’d have visited you much sooner.”

I stood. This was a little much. “I don’t know what you mean, but I think I need a drink. Shape-shifting pets and psychotic love killers makes for a kinda crazy day.” Ariel stood as well. I turned on him suddenly. “One more question, though. Is that your real form, or are you just being nice to me?”

He flushed. “I figured you’d already had a rough day.” I took a deep breath, then waved my hand. No better time and all, right? He gave an apologetic shrug. “I did try to warn you.” The room darkened for a split second, and then I thought my heart would fall out of my chest. Ariel hadn’t been joking. He was the same proportions, but four feet tall with black and white marbled skin and wings that brushed both the floor and my chin. They waved softly behind him, a rainbow of colors shifting through spiderweb thin skin. I opened and shut my mouth. His irises! They looked like they’d popped, all the yellow leaking out into his eyes. And his pupils were stretched like a cat’s. At least he didn’t have pointy ears or six fingers. I stared. He heaved another sigh. “I prefer my more human form to this one. It’s unnerving to look up to people. Would you mind?”

I shook my head, not even bothering to mention his Mittens-shape size. “Not at all.” The lights dimmed again, and the taller Ariel dipped a bow. I didn’t bother telling him to stop. “God, I need a drink.”

“Just don’t do the tequila, my la – Rebekkah!” followed me into the kitchen. “We both know how that turns out!” Ignoring him, I grabbed the nearest bottle and poured it into the blender.

Of Creamer and Cats

The sun burned against my closed lids. Grunting, I rolled over, pulling my quilt as high as I could. Was it morning already? I burrowed farther down into my quilts. Maybe if I just stayed in bed, I could pretend it was still dark outside. Birds sang loudly outside. My iPhone rang shrilly on the nightstand. Mittens purred like a lion in my ear. I held my breath, willing my head to stay in one piece. Did nothing understand the pain of a hangover? A wet nose bumped my cheek. Weakly, I ran my hand down the cat’s back. Fuzz therapy. I had Mittens. Water was in the faucet, coffee was in the kitchen, and Advil was in the bathroom. Life was going. That was good. James and Ariel could go to hell, as long as I had my cat and my coffee.

Mittens poked me again with his nose, his yellow eyes slits in my face. “You’re three hours late to your shift, Rebekkah.”

My hungover brain fell out. The next moment, I was up against the wall with the quilt up to my chin and a water bottle held shakily before me. I stared past the end of it. “H-holy mother of Jesus,” I said.

Mittens stood in the center of my bed, looking exactly like a porcupine on crack. He hissed, huge eyes staring at me accusingly. “Try not to kill me, please.” With an air of forced dignity, he sat and began licking one white paw.

The water bottle wobbled in my hand. My head pounded along with my pulse, but there was no way I’d get back in bed. My night of vodka-induced numbness came back and I threw the bottle at him. “Are you insane? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” The cat’s tail twitched but he had the good sense to say silent. My knees gave way and I slid down the wall. “I think we need to make some rules for you, sir.”

Mittens paused in his cleaning to blink at me. “Rules? Why? You know what I am, and I am your servant.”

I leaned my head carefully back onto the wall. “Not my servant. My cat. And cats do not talk. Ever.”

“I do,” he interjected.

I glared at him. “You’re not really a cat. So, you have a choice. Either be a cat all the time or be a human-fairy-Dinnshenchas thing all the time. None of this Salem witch cat business.” I closed my eyes, trying to fight the urge to puke. The world spun sickeningly around me. “I need coffee.”

Mittens stretched on the bed, his claws making little popping sounds as he pulled them out of the sheet. “As you wish, Rebekkah. When you have