Chapter Thirty-One

Granny Mariotti’s car was in the driveway. We let Hecate out into the backyard, and Vaughn stayed with her while I went inside to break the news to Granny.

“We’re home,” I hollered.

It was late, but I knew Granny always stayed up reading, and as I expected, she was in the family room, curled up with a book. She put a bookmark in the pages and closed her book. “Did you and Vaughn have a good night?” she asked.

“It was unusual,” I admitted. “We found something.”

She didn’t say anything, just cocked her head in inquiry.

I stood by the open slider door. “Hecate, here, kitty, kitty,” I called. The kitten came to the door and meowed but wouldn’t cross the doorway.

“What kind of animal has glowing green eyes and smells like toasting marshmallows? And there was salt by every doorway to contain it?” I asked.

“I’ve never heard of any animal smelling like marshmallows, but the rest sounds like a hellcat,” Granny replied. “I’ve never actually seen one, though.”

I smeared away the line of salt to see what would happen. Salt kept demons away, but maybe a hellcat was a sort of demon? It did have the word “hell” in its name. Once the salt was cleared, Hecate bolted through the slider door and skidded to a stop in front of Granny.

She gasped. The kitten let out a pitiful whimper and nudged her hand. Granny cooed, “Aren’t you the sweetest thing?”

“That’s Hecate,” I said.

She bent down and scratched her. “She does smell like marshmallows.” She sniffed again. “And blood. And brimstone. Where did you get a hellcat?”

I sucked in a breath. “We followed a grown one after it attacked us. We’re fine, though—I swear.”

Granny eyed me with concern, but she didn’t stop petting the kitten. “We need to bandage that cut on her face. And don’t think I didn’t notice you’re limping and trying to hide it. Get a wrap for yourself, too.”

It was no use denying I was injured, even though I’d just claimed I was fine. Granny noticed everything. I got the first-aid kit out of the bathroom and set it next to Hecate. “The other cats were picking on her.”

While Granny took care of the little kitten’s face, Vaughn came in from outside and helped me wrap my sore ankle.

“There were other hellcats?” Granny asked.

I nodded. “The one that attacked me on the beach got picked up by a minivan, and the driver was a werewolf. We followed them to this place out in the canyon,” I explained. “Once they left, we checked out the house. It was full these kittens and adult hellcats.”

“They were hungry, and the whole place reeked,” Vaughn added.

“Can we keep her, Granny?” I asked. “Please?”

Granny sighed, then asked, “Does she have a name?” That meant yes.

“I’ve been calling her Hecate,” I said.

Granny’s eyes twinkled. “That’s a perfect name for our new pet. Hecate. Goddess of the boundary between the natural and hidden worlds.”

I hugged my granny. “Thank you.”

“I’m not sure she’ll stay with us,” Granny warned. “Hellcats move through boundaries with ease. Unless something prevents them.”

“The salt wasn’t to keep demons out,” I said. “It was to keep the hellcats in.”

“I expect so,” she said. “But the bigger question is, what are werewolves doing with a litter of hellcats?”

“It’s not anyone from my pack,” Vaughn said abruptly. “I would have recognized them by their scent. But something about that werewolf smelled familiar.”

“We have to do something about it,” I said.

Vaughn nodded. “I agree. We need to get those creatures out of there.”

“You have something in mind?”

“I’m not sure,” he replied. “It’s not like we can call animal control.”

“I know. And we don’t exactly have the room here.”

“Maybe the Old Crones Book Club can give us some ideas,” Granny suggested.

“It’s worth a shot,” I agreed.

Vaughn’s phone pinged with a text. As he read it, he started to frown. “I’ve got to go,” he said. “Dad forgot to leave the catering order for a big client event tomorrow, and he’s not answering his phone.”

“That’s not like him,” I commented.

“No, it’s not. I’ll take care of it.” He kissed the top of my head and took off.

After Vaughn left, Granny went to bed, and I curled up with a book, but Hecate wouldn’t stop meowing, the sound high and frantic. When I tried to open the back door to see what had her so agitated, she stood in front of it and growled at me.

“What’s gotten into you?” I flicked the motion sensor lights on and peered out the kitchen window, but I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.

“Why’s she making all that racket?” Granny asked. Her untied robe flapped behind her, and I snorted at her Ask Me About My Coven T-shirt and cut-off sweats.

“I don’t know,” I admitted.

She peered out into the darkness. “Time to shore up our defense charms.”

“Do you think it’s a vampire?”

“You tell me.”

I inhaled and tried to focus. “Cold like a vampire, but something smells different.” I took another breath. Something about the scent repelled me. It made me queasy, like I was going to throw up. Disoriented, like the time I’d been on the Tea Cups at Disneyland and had spun so hard I could barely walk.

“Very good,” Granny said.

Hecate finally stopped howling and came over and nudged my hand. I scratched her under the chin.

“Whatever it was, it’s gone now.” Granny rubbed Hecate on the head and then got a glass of water before she went back to bed. I stared into the night and wondered what had been upsetting Hecate.

I went to Granny’s library to get a different book to read.

Granny’s bookshelves were better than any search engine, at least for the kind of information I needed, so I started there.

There was conflicting mythology about the hellcats. Some sources believed they were guardians of women and girls, and others believed that hellcats were harbingers of death.

So, which one was Hecate?