Nine. Revelations in Bed
Psycho Mike has not come by and attempted to kill me again tonight, so it’s proving to be a pretty good day. Everything stayed pretty peaceful following Jase’s angry boxing session of venting and his hour of playing lab rat for creepy Doctor Carson. After that we just headed back upstairs, Jase showered, while I gave in and licked myself clean, trying not to focus on that sound of running water and give into any unhealthy thoughts as I did so. Jase had lunch. Then I had some time to myself while Jase went out to buy me cat kibble. I swatted that insulting bowl of processed animal garbage right off the counter, kept glaring at him and grumbling until he shared some ham cold cuts with me instead, then settled down peacefully on the couch while he set to listening to Nicky’s recordings of university lectures.
Nick stayed holed up in his room the whole time gaming, since his father’s vet clinic is apparently closed on Sundays, so he had another full day off. Jase offered that they could study together. Nick laughed right in his face, grabbed a sandwich and vanished into his cave. “Man’s gonna fail his midterms, get kicked out,” Jase mutters unhappily. “Then how will I get my free lessons on anaplasmosis. Huh?”
I have no idea what that word means, so I just stare at him in blank incomprehension, but he of course does not expect a cat to comprehend a single word of these little venting monologues anyhow, so that look just makes him grin again and turn back to his notes.
Now it’s ten in the evening, and it’s an overcast night, which seems of great comfort to Jase. Even Nicky feels emboldened enough to start sitting out in the main-room with a pot of KD, while Jase settles down to sleep in his bed instead of staying up meditating in rigid focus as he did the night previous. “No moon, no worries,” he tells me, stroking my side.
Maybe it’s indecent, me sleeping right in his bed like this, but I’m starting to feel less and less like human Cassi to be honest. I feel less and less ashamed, and I feel more and more as if I am in truth just a simple, little house cat, not a human in disguise. I lay down right on Jase’s chest tonight, and it’s such a warm and comforting resting place, with that steady rise and fall of breath, that I find myself purring again.
It lulls Jason right to sleep, and I sink into a similarly deep and happy rest, right up until the dream begins.
I’m playing out in the countryside by an old stone well, the cutest little black kitten with bright green eyes and gleaming, self-groomed fur. There’s a mouse darting out of the grass and I pounce, trapping it between my claws.
“The hell do you think you’re doing?!” It’s a girl in a simple brown dress and apron, peasant clothes from like the eighteenth century or something. She scoops me up and stares me down with brown eyes heavy with rebuke. “No familiar of mine is going to be torturing small and helpless fellows of the animal kingdom.”
Familiar? That’s a witch’s animal servant, and I am most certainly no mystical servant. I’m Cassandra.
I am Cassandra, so what the hell am I doing indeed?
The perspective shifts and suddenly that black kitten is in my fully human hands. Why didn’t I remember I had this pet kitten as a child? And why the hell am I standing in this backwoods Amish looking village looking displaced out of time like we’re in medieval England or something?
Scanning those strange, rural surroundings of little thatched cottages my eyes fall on a figure dressed all in black, standing at the end of that dirt road. She’s wearing the same crimson embroidered robes as the day she had me strapped to that tree out in the woods as her sacrifice. “I see you, Cassandra. You cannot hide forever.”
Shit. Run. Flee! I drop my cat and turn to sprint away, but blocking my way is her minion, Michael, dressed in similarly archaic farmer's garb of burlap shirt and trousers. He pulls me right into his chest. My eyes flood with tears, and he licks my cheek, groping invasively at my backside. “You know you want it.”
“No. Stop.”
“Think you can make me?”
“Yes.” My eyes are suddenly burning with violet flame, and I shove him to the ground with a surge of energy. He falls flat on his ass, staring up at me in terror. “I am Cassandra Proteus, daughter of our most ancient spirits, and you should have never dared lay hands on me.”
A sharp and sudden shout interrupts my dream, and I start awake with drool leaking out the corner of my mouth. Jase is staring wide-eyed right into my eyes, and I realize I’m lying right on top of him. Fully human Cassi Banks is lying naked on his chest.
My cheeks turn burning red and I roll quickly to the side, yanking on the sheets to try and cover myself up as I drop from the bed and scramble back against the wall. That was a terrible idea of course, because now I’ve yanked the covers off of Jason, and even though he’s wearing underwear, not fully nude like the first time I saw him, he still seems horribly embarrassed even being that exposed. And, damn, I can see why, because clearly outlined against that underwear… I wonder how long he had his hands on my naked, human back, or maybe it was just the smell of me and the weight of me against him that roused that member into standing at eager attention.
He snatches the pillow off the bed, holding it pressed against his crotch in desperate shield as he too jumps free of the bed and presses himself flat against the room’s opposite wall. “The hell...?” That’s all he seems capable of voicing, the words a frantic squeak.
I myself can find no words to overcome this petrifying awkwardness, and I have no time either, as the door swings open and Nick comes barging in. “The hell you yelling about, man? Everything okay?”
“Gah!” is Jase’s only response, gesturing erratically at the figure in the corner behind that open door. Nick peers around behind the door, but all he sees is little Miss Kitty sitting in a pile of tangled sheets.
“Yeah, I see the cat, and…” He turns his eyes to Jase’s pillow, held so protectively up in front of him. “Know what? I don’t want to know. Just keep it down. Night.”
He leaves us alone again, and Jase stays staring at me with the same wild eyes of frantic accusation. “You… This whole time? You’re a…”
I melt slowly back into Cassandra, feeling myself exposed and knowing it’s downright shameful to keep hiding in kitten form to avoid this conversation. “A shape shifter? Yeah. Figured you’d ah… be familiar with that.”
Turns out he is not. Jason Galanis has never in the history of his family encountered such a thing as a were-kitten, especially not a mist-melting, lynx mimicking, uncontrolled shape-shifter who, based on my dreams, might actually be a witch.
I tell him my whole backstory of the past few days, and I can understand it’s a lot to process all at once. I’m still hoping he opts to help me though and defend me from his psychotic brother rather than turning me in to Doctor Carson as an exciting new test subject.