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By Kay Hanifen
Erica hated the fucking cat. It just sat there, staring at her like she was a mouse or bird, some sort of prey animal. Erica was many things, but she most definitely was not prey.
Every chance she got, she aimed a kick in its direction. No one had caught her yet. Maybe, if she was lucky, she could punt the pussy into the fire before anyone noticed.
No, too messy and suspicious. The Innkeeper would definitely notice that. Still, a girl can dream.
She and animals had never gotten along. Humans smelled bad, but animals were worse. Cats weren’t as gross as some creatures—the odor of dog made her gag—but they still disgusted her. The only thing an animal was good for was food and taking them apart to learn proper anatomy.
It used to be a hobby of hers, but then her parents caught her with a mouse she’d killed and dissected and sent her to therapy. That was when she learned that people tended to frown upon such things. Becoming a doctor had been the way to sate her curiosity about the inner workings of the body. She didn’t get the pleasure of killing the animal herself, but that’s what hunting expeditions were for.
The most important lesson she learned from therapy was to channel her urges. If she felt the desire to kill, she would go hunting. If she wanted to take apart a body and see how it ticked, she would either take on another patient or perform a dissection to teach students at a local hospital. There were...slip ups, of course, but nothing she couldn’t handle.
“I know I have to sound crazy,” Rachel said, finishing her story. “But all these years, I had this feeling that they would come back for me and Michelle eventually.”
Erica had only been half-paying attention. Something about Rachel experiencing A Clockwork Orange by way of the Hallmark Channel.
“I don’t think it’s them,” Bethany said. “I mean, you’ve been going above and beyond, right?”
Rachel gnawed anxiously on her lower lip. Erica knew she should be saying something comforting like the rest, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. Not with the soreness of whiplash in her neck and the stupid cat’s lantern eyes boring into her.
“And even if they did come for you, we’ll have your back,” Maven said. “They can’t take all of us.”
Erica absently added her voice to the mumbles of assent. By this point, you would have to be an idiot not to see that there was something strange going on here, but she didn’t think it was a Cult of Kris Kringle or whatever. Not that she would voice this thought. The second most important thing she’d learned in therapy was that people did not respond well to glibness when they’re upset.
But if it wasn’t the Kringle Cult, what did that leave? She knew for a fact that she got John for her Secret Santa gift, and she picked out an assortment of cruelty-free soaps for him, not a taxidermied reindeer head. She would never have bought him that (though now that she thought of it, taxidermy might be a hobby worth getting into). All these gifts were personally targeted towards their recipient, and said recipient seemed almost compelled to spill their darkest secret upon opening them.
There were only two gifts left: one for her and one for Ronnie. She wondered what her gift might be and what story she might tell. Oddly, she was looking forward to it. All her life, she’d kept a part of her secret from everyone she knew. As stupid as it seemed, ordinary people just wouldn’t understand her, and with that misunderstanding would come judgment and rejection at best and outright violence at worst. But several members of this group had already confessed to crimes just as bad as hers. They would probably understand better than anyone else.
A sudden pain in her ankle snapped her from her reverie. Yelping, she jumped to her feet. Somehow, the cat had slipped out of her view and under her chair, biting her and leaving two holes on each side of her ankle. “What the fuck?” She stumbled away from it and into the arms of the Innkeeper.
“It looks like Nicodemus gave you a little love bite,” he said, smiling indulgently at the stupid cat.
“He’d better be fully fucking vaccinated,” she growled. “Or else I’ll have his head chopped off and brain dissected for rabies.”
“Whoa, Erica,” Mildred said, putting her hands out in a placating gesture. “Take a breath. Nicodemus didn’t know what he was doing.”
Judging by the smug way the feline licked its lips, it knew exactly what it was doing. Erica had visions of snapping its neck and throwing it into the flames. She let it wash over her like a balm to her soul.
“Nicodemus is fully vaccinated.” The Innkeeper placed a reassuring hand on Erica’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Sometimes, he just gets over-eager when he’s playing. Sorry about that.”
“Fine. Just keep it the hell away from me.” She crossed the room and took a seat far away from the others. John looked like he was about to throw down in the cat’s defense, and she did not have the patience to pick a fight with him.
Instead, she picked up a sugar cookie and took a vicious bite out of it, her eyes never leaving the cat’s. It blinked slowly, its tail twitching. Apparently, the slow blink was supposed to be a friendly gesture, but she knew it was just bragging that it won this round. The cat was a little shit, plain and simple. People were just too enamored by its cuteness and too entrenched in the belief in its stupidity to believe it was capable of such a thing.
She might not get rabies from the bite, but there are plenty of other nasty infections she could get instead. Cats were such unsanitary creatures, after all. And if she did get sick, she would definitely be suing the Innkeeper for all he was worth. It would teach him to allow a potentially dangerous animal to roam freely around the premises.
“I have some antibiotic ointment in my purse,” Kate said softly. “Do you need some?” Ever since Carrie disappeared, she’d been quiet and contrite, blaming herself for the concussed old woman wandering off in the snow. Ordinarily, Erica would point out that it was in no way Kate’s fault, but this change in attitude was a nice reprieve from the general aura of judgment surrounding her.
Erica nodded. It would be better than nothing. Odds were that there was nothing wrong with the cat, aside from being an asshole, but just in case, it couldn’t hurt to treat the wound for potential infection.
Kate handed her the small tube of ointment, and nodding her thanks, Erica applied it to the four small wounds on her ankle. The stupid cat had stolen her chair, curled up and napping like the smug bastard it was.
“Never been a fan of cats myself,” Kate said softly. “Something about them always felt too—I don’t know—witchy.”
Erica handed the tube back to her. “Thanks. I’m normally indifferent to animals, but I really don’t like that one.”
Kate flashed her a weak smile. “He really seems like a piece of work.”
“Erica, I believe this is for you,” the Innkeeper said, holding up a box wrapped in silver paper. The record began to play Wham!’s “Last Christmas” as she approached the front of the room to collect her package.
Secret Santa had been an annual tradition for the rest of the team, but because this was her first year with the choir, she’d never done it before. Not that this was the typical Secret Santa anyway. They were well past pretending that everything was normal, but were still going through the motions like a child putting a blanket over their head to hide from the monsters lurking in the house.
Still, she couldn’t help the feeling of excitement that bubbled in her stomach as she took the present to an empty chair and sat down. The smell of cedar. The woodsy scent conjured the image in her mind’s eye of a beautiful man, one with bright blue eyes and raven hair. And there was something underneath that smell, a metallic fragrance that reminded her of copper pennies and wrought iron gates in the rain. Closing her eyes, she inhaled, letting the scent memories wash over her. And then she smiled.
She knew what story she would tell. All her life, she’d maintained a policy of taking her secrets to the grave, but the story bubbled up inside her, demanding to be told.
When she opened her eyes, she met the gazes of everyone in the room. They would understand. After every secret they’d shared, how could they not? She could finally voice the secret she’d carried with her for so long and be her true self.
