My name is Moss O’Malley, and for the moment, I just so happen to be a cat.
Not a magical cat. And not a shapeshifter. Well, not exactly anyway. I’m just your ordinary, everyday, run-of-the-mill floof-ball.
Hang on now; don’t rush away. I used to be both magical and a shapeshifter. I was a human, too.
Man, those were the days…
You see, it all started with my pre-arrest life. I used to get a big kick out of stealing things. And I was good at it, too. I guess that’s why I made thieving my full-time gig.
Don’t get me wrong or anything. I know stealing is wrong, and—yeah—most of the time it is. But I found a way to make it a win for everyone. The storefronts and organizations I robbed always had cushy insurance policies to fall back on. Which made what I did a victimless crime, right?
That’s how I always explained it before. But lately I’ve been hanging out with some goody two-shoes cop types, and I’ll admit I’ve started to have some slight feelings of remorse about my past ways.
That doesn’t mean they’ll let me out of my punishment any time soon, but a guy can always hope.
See, in my heyday, I was something to behold.
My particular magical gift was of the glamour variety. I could change the appearance of just about anything to suit my needs. When I led my den of thieves, we all hung out in this swanky underground club I magicked to make look like an empty and abandoned basement.
And I didn’t stop there, either. Oh no!
Harnessing my innate awesomeness, I could make any room, or any place, appear as if I weren’t even there inside it. I’d get us in. My crew would take out the cameras, and—boom—the job was basically done.
It was great, until it wasn’t.
Someone on my crew got caught, then ratted me out in a plea deal. And now here I am, a freaking pussy cat.
Before, I’d change shape into my feline form for short periods of time and usually as part of a heist. Now I’m stuck in fur for three full years.
Most shifters’ animals are predetermined before they’re born. They have no say in what they get to be. Believe me, I would have chosen something much more menacing than a fluffy ragdoll cat, if given the choice.
Of course, a lucky few do get to decide for themselves. Like my friend Amy. She can transform into whatever she wants, whenever she wants. But she’s also only the second shifter I’ve met who could go whole hog. Super rare, my sweet little diamond.
Okay, getting off track. Let me get back to the meat of my story and save the garnish for later.
Let me see… I was sentenced to three years as a regular, old—albeit totally adorable—cat. The Magical Corrections Systems sent me to a truly awful shifter prison in Georgia. The CosmoPAWlitan Cat Rescue.
Boy, that was the worst year of my life. Okay, it was only a few weeks, but it was awful enough to taint a whole fifty-two.
Litter boxes. Scratching posts. Canned food. Need I go on?
I was suffering and would have done almost anything to get out of there, so when a corrections agent named Kaye asked me to help her on a case, I ultimately said yes.
Truth be told, I would’ve ratted out the Queen of England to escape that cat rescue prison.
Once I got to know squeaky clean Kaye, I realized she wasn’t so bad. And when sweet-as-sugar Amy entered the picture, my prison became something of a paradise.
We’ve successfully busted our first bad guy, and—yeah—he was far worse than I’d ever been and deserved whatever punishment the system wanted to throw at him.
Of course, Kaye’s boss is acting like that was all a fluke and not the result of our quick instincts and solid follow through. So he’s asked us to prove ourselves by giving us a second case.
And now Amy’s officially been assigned to help us out, too. We kind of picked her up mid-bust last time, but she was still instrumental to our win there. Because of that, she’s getting to pay the time for her accidental crimes by serving and protecting with us rather than behind bars. A pretty girl like her wouldn’t have made it in there, I tell you.
And she’s the prettiest girl I’ve ever known. Every time I think about it, I can’t help but purr—something which embarrasses me greatly, but she at least seems to like it.
She knows what I am now, but she’s still only ever known me as a cat. Yes, I’m a cat, and she’s a people. Talk about an obstacle to love!
While I bide my time on that, we’re all holed up and waiting at Kaye’s place in Georgia. We know another case is coming, but we still have a serious lack of details. So far, we’ve received a single, short email giving us a brief rundown of the perp, but no marching orders yet.
Yeah, I know it’s like we’re in a bad TV cop drama here. I mean, who says perp or marching orders in the average conversation? My strait-laced witch partner, that’s who.
“Moss?” Kaye asked, staring at me with wide, unblinking eyes. “Are you even listening to me?”
I sighed and stretched my legs in front of me. “Yeah, yeah. I’m listening. I’m just rejecting what you’re saying.”
“It’s a lot more complicated than you think. Adding another person to your collar isn’t a simple matter. It’s not like we just have to press a few quick buttons and presto-chango, the job is done.” She groaned and plopped down on the sofa beside me. “At least tell me you understand that.”
A tuft of fur popped out of place near my back leg, and I twisted so I could lick it flat. When I glanced back at Kaye, she was staring daggers at me. Not fair. I can’t help it when my kitty necessities must take precedence. And it’s not like I was ignoring her anymore, either.
“I hear you, Kaye. But, c’mon! Amy isn’t just anybody. If we’re working on this case together, she needs to be able to understand me, same as you can.”
“She understands you plenty.” Kaye grabbed my favorite brush off the coffee table and began dragging it through my fur. I held back a purr, knowing I’d lose leverage in this conversation if I succumbed to that instinct now.
“When we go out, I have to set the collar so that only I can understand you. That’s the rule,” she explained like I was some petulant child and not, in fact, an insanely intelligent kitty cat.
“I still don’t get what your problem is. Why can’t you add Amy?” I asked, raising one eyebrow in suspicion. “Afraid to share me?”
Kaye’s exasperated sigh was music to my ears. I enjoyed irritating her. It meant I was making progress here.
“Moss,” she cried, wringing her hands. “It’s me or everyone. That’s it. There is no in-between.”
My ears picked up Amy’s quiet footfalls in the hallway carpet. She entered the room, having heard what we said. “If I’m going to be working with Moss, I should be able to understand him,” she said softly. Yes, I knew she’d take my side!
As she sat on my other side on the sofa, she folded her long, golden-tanned legs underneath her perfect bott—
“Fine!” Kaye threw up her arms in exasperation. “When we get some free time, I’ll do the spell. First, though, we have other more pressing matters.
“Oh?” Amy asked, tilting her head to the side. “Like what?”
Yeah, what she said, I added silently in my head. I didn’t exactly feel like talking to Kaye given how difficult she was being that afternoon. But then curiosity got the best of me, and I piped up with, “Yeah, Kaye. Like what?”