9

“Relax,” Fluffikins drawled as he stepped closer and closer.

Instantly my muscles loosened, and a calming thrum reverberated through my core.

The magical cat watched me for a moment.

When he decided I had well and truly followed his order, he continued with his horrifying presentation. “I had to make sure you didn’t already have magic that you were attempting to hide. I can tell you don’t have much practice, which means you wouldn’t have been able to prevent yourself from unleashing your defenses at the sudden arrival of an external threat.”

“You’re crazy,” I spat again. My body was calm, but my mind still reeled. “I don’t have any magic, and I definitely don’t appreciate you trying to turn me into roast Tawny!”

A smile stretched from one of his whiskered cheeks to the other. “Trusting a human with magic is no small thing. Your kind doesn’t exactly have the best track record when it comes to wielding power of any kind.”

Well, he had me there. Still, he may have understood humans, but that didn’t mean he knew me.

“Don’t attack me again,” I ordered, wishing I already had the magic so I could force him to obey my command the same way he’d forced me to be calm.

“I hadn’t planned on it. Now wait there.” He crouched into a low pounce and then leaped into the same hole in the ceiling from which he’d emerged earlier.

Fluffikins was an unnaturally gifted jumper, that was for sure. Oh, right. Magic, duh.

When he returned, he had a simple silver brooch clutched in his mouth. It looked like a cross between a butterfly and a bow and appeared to be made of gleaming silver. He dropped it at my feet. “Your choice of attire isn’t exactly suitable,” he said in that off-putting almost serpentine way of his.

I glowered at Fluffikins. He may be the boss here, but that didn’t give him the right to control every aspect of my life. His latest barb stung, especially since I’d put so much effort into looking nice.

“No more insults,” I growled.

But he didn’t back down. Instead he buckled down. “It’s just you have so much skin exposed. This is your magical badge.” He placed a paw on the silver brooch. “It needs to be placed close to your heart to have the best effect.”

I glanced down at my expansive cleavage and grimaced. “Oh, I see. Hmmmm.”

“Could you maybe just…?” His words fell away and, well, if you’ve never seen a black cat blush, I promise it’s a sight to behold. Fluffikins coughed, which turned into a hack, which soon resulted in a slimy hairball being spat up right by my feet. Charming.

I grabbed the gleaming brooch, trying my best to not look at the mess that sat dangerously close. “How’s this?” I asked after popping it at the very top of my bustier so it jutted slightly above the neckline.

“Well, let’s put it to the tests.” Fluffikins regained his composure, winked, then threw another gust of wind my way.

This time I raised both hands in front of me, and the wind immediately died down without so much as ruffling a single hair on my head. Shocked, I studied my hands in search of the magic which had just come out of them. They still looked—and felt—exactly the same.

I didn’t have much time to think about it, though, because next came the fire. Instinctively, I thrust my hands forward and pushed out a stream of water that collided with Fluffikins’s flames, causing both to blink out of existence.

The cat wore a smug expression now. “See. You can’t help but defend yourself.”

“But how? I definitely didn’t do any of that on purpose.” I continue to study my hands carefully as if they’d suddenly reveal all the secrets of the universe. Unfortunately, I still felt just as confused as ever—and possibly more.

“Wielding magic is as easy and natural as breathing air for those who have it. Yes, you must practice to strengthen it, but our natural aptitudes are innate within us.”

“But I don’t naturally have magic. I shouldn’t have been able to do the things I just did,” I argued. I didn’t write fantasy, but I’d read enough of it to know that magic required lots of practice and self-control. This thing with Fluffikins tonight was turning out to be the exact opposite.

He shrugged as if none of this meant anything to him. “Everyone has the potential. Few just ever realize it’s there.”

“So every single person in the whole entire world has magic?” I marveled at this. How could such a big thing be kept a secret? Was it because of people like Parker and Fluffikins and all the other paranormal liaisons around the world? Was I part of that now? Wow.

“When it comes to adult humans, it’s less than a fraction of a percent,” Fluffikins informed me with a contented grin. “Most are too caught up with the other aspects of their busy lives.”

“You said adults,” I pointed out as I finally pulled myself to my feet. “Does that mean—?”

“Yes, many children can still access their innate magic, but as they grow older, the adults in their lives convince them it isn’t real, and eventually most will lose that spark.”

“That’s actually really sad,” I choked out.

“We already have more than enough messes to clean up from the few humans who keep their magic. Why do you think there are so many stray cats around? It’s our job to keep an eye on you and fix things before the other humans realize they’re broken.”

“So stray cats are…?”

“Field agents, yes. If you ever have any extra money laying around, try to donate to your local shelters. We’ve lost too many good agents to…” He shuddered. “Never mind.”

“I’ll do what I can,” I promised, wondering whether it would be okay to pet him or if such a gesture would be more condescending than comforting. “So what now?”

“Now, you head home and get some rest. I’ll come for you in the morning to get you started on your Town Witch duties.”

I wanted to thank him, to apologize for the friends he’d lost in the field, but before I could say anything, he raised his voice and bellowed, “Barnes!”

Parker appeared almost immediately, grabbed me by the arm, and led me away. Well, it looked like I’d have to wait for tomorrow to get any more answers.