22. Meow
Meow
Rumor Malefic
My seat knocked backwards and clambered to the floor as I jumped. The man, the cat-man, remained perched on the windowsill, regarding me with the same stealth disinterest as a feline.
“This whole time.” I pointed in condemnation. “This whole time you’ve been a wretched Blackthorne boy? Following me around… I’ve fed you meat, you’ve been in my house, you’ve witnessed my spells… you’ve watched me change clothes !” My eyes scanned the room for something I could throw at him.
“Well, when you put it like that, I sound awful,” he purred.
“You are awful!”
Twenty shrugged before jumping down from the window.
“Meow.” He stood at full height and stretched his arms above his head.
Unbelievably tall, just like his brothers.
“Wow, feels strange to be back in this body.” He surveyed himself in the mirror framed to the wall above the room’s vanity.
Dusting his curls, he smirked. “Damn, I look good, though.” He picked up a piece of bacon.
“So, what next? Or should I say what hex ? How are we bringing down the Blackthorne boys and saving Prism?”
Stunned, I stood with my mouth agape. “Are you dense? Got fur for brains? You are a Blackthorne boy. We aren’t doing anything.”
Tearing into a patty of sausage, Twenty stepped closer. “That’s a problem for me, you see, because…” he opened his arms. “Ta-da, I’m your familiar. You’re stuck with me, kid.”
“I wholly reject that notion. I do not need or want a familiar. You-you were just a cute cat that followed me around.”
“Glad you think I’m cute,” he winked, grabbing more bacon.
“But I’m hurt that you think I only followed you around .
How do you think you were fed and watered the day your head-ailment hit, hm?
How’d that naughty little book come to be in your musty, dusty basement?
Give me a little credit. I have pulled some strings.
You didn’t have to hex me just now, though. ” He pouted. “Rude.”
“ A hex to compel a foolish man … foolish is right.” I glared. “And lay off my bacon, this is mine.”
The third Blackthorne brother opened his mouth to respond when something rapt at the door. His gray cat ears perked up above his curly silver hair and he bolted for the wardrobe. “I’m just going to slip in here…” He said, climbing into the wardrobe.
“Fraidy cat,” I rolled my eyes, making sure he was secure and quiet before I opened the door. If he had indeed been helping me this entire time, and his aim was to torture his own brothers, then, well, I wasn’t about to rat out a friend.
Though, there was also the possibility that he was sent by the Blackthornes to spy on me. If he were a plant, then what was his goal? Why did the grimoire transform him now and not sooner?
So many questions.
So little bacon.
A startle shocked through me to see a skeleton holding a silver tray in the middle of the hall.
Would I ever get used to those creepy things walking around?
Snatching the folded note from the tray, I shooed the walking bones away.
With a creak and clank, it obeyed. “You can come out. It wasn’t either of your big, bad, annoying brothers. ”
The note read:
Hear ye, hear ye,
One Rumor Rat Malefic is hereby summoned to dinner with one Riot Blackthorne and one, less attractive, less funny and otherwise most unfortunate Spade Blackthorne.
After dinner will be a show you don’t want to miss.
Dress for the occasion, no pants, no rags, nothing you’d usually reach for.
If you like it— don’t wear it. Bathe, too.
I’ll send the bones to do your hair. This is a fine affair!
P.S.
Let’s wrap this up long before midnight so we have plenty of time to finish what we started last night.
Black hearts and wilted roses,
Riot
Crumpling the note, I threw it at the wall. “Riot is the most arrogant, infuriating man I’ve ever met.” Annoyance rolled off my back as I swung open the doors to the wardrobe.
Twenty held his knees in the corner and twitched an ear. “I’m late for my third nap of the day, do you mind?”
“Each of you are certifiably insane,” I rolled my eyes. “I’m talking to a man who’s a cat and also a Blackthorne, while he sleeps in my wardrobe. This is fine.”
A dress that hadn’t been there before hung on an ivory hanger. A long, hip skimming gown trailing up to a woven corset.
Twenty peeked open one eye. “Wake me up when you put that on.”
With a huff, I grabbed the dress and slammed the wardrobe closed.
“Where’s the hex for turning him back into a cat?
” I asked the grimoire, holding the gown to my neck and surveying myself in the mirror.
It was pretty. Resentment tensed my body at how pretty the fine fabric was next to me while I was so gaunt, pale, and plain.
No wonder Riot teased my rags and hygiene.
I was sure the women he was accustomed to were high society women of Asunder’s court.
Always in gowns, freshly bathed, with curves to fill out their fashionable wear.
Must be nice.
Meanwhile, Willowspire starved.
Meanwhile withers took my sister and aided Asunder in taking any amongst us who were too magical.
My sister was bruised and crying in a forest of death— and I was running on-demand warm water to rinse myself in oils and potions before attending a fancy dinner and show with the Blackthorne lords who’d abandoned us.
Guilt pressed upon me as I stepped into hot bath water. Prism would be so disappointed, so would my mother and matri. I needed more, needed their help or hex— imminently.
However… I pondered as fragrant bubbles pooled atop the bath water, popping them idly with my fingers.
I’d already hexed one Blackthorne boy and he was currently being a creep in my wardrobe.
Why he’d left the castle and had no interest in his brothers was beside the point.
My magic worked on him. That was encouraging and meant my hexes would be compatible with Riot and Spade, as well.
I might not have hexed Riot in the traditional sense, but I knew what he wanted.
Riot wanted sex.
And what is sex with a man if not a particular sort of hex, in of itself? There wasn’t much I knew about gray or dark magic. Witches who worked in gray and dark were said to have the ability to empty love magic. Love spells, sex magic.
One might think these are warm and fuzzy things— they aren’t. Imagine forcing someone’s obsession, devotion, and loyalty against their will?
That was dark stuff.
Things I was forbidden from exploring by my coven in Willowspire. Not that I’d ever asked, I was too chicken, and too busy keeping me and my sister alive to even think of such things.
However… If my crone thought I was a gray witch, and gave me her blessing to “do whatever I had to do,” to sway the lords… could she have been implying love magic?
Sex magic?
Could I perform that on Riot and compel him toward my cause?
How much influence did Riot have over Spade? And did they require the approval of the other to make decisions? Again, questions I didn’t have the answers to, but a thrum of magic beat slowly in my chest, alerting my senses that I was on the right track.
Sex magic, huh?
Well, that may get me somewhere with Riot.
What about Mr. Sunshine Spade? What did he want?
What motivated him? When my matri taught me to hunt, my lessons began long before a bow and arrow slung across my back.
From the time I was five years old and onward, my matri schooled me in animal and creature behavior.
“You cannot understand how to kill if you cannot understand what you’re killing,” she’d say.
That wisdom carried over into fighting and self-defense, too.
Knowing where the over-confident Viper brothers held their weight is what helped me put Adder on his ass that day at the farm.
I smiled at the memory of hexing Birch. He was likely eating grass and swatting flies off his rump with his tail right that moment as I sank lower into my warm bath.
A grin of satisfaction warmed my face, though, I’d still very much like to kill him when I got back to Willowspire.
This just helped me prolong his suffering a bit.
Could I kill a man? I wondered for half a second, already knowing the answer. Of course I could. In fact, I’d take a great deal of joy in ending Birch’s pathetic life. His brothers would hate me even more. Pompous Adder Viper who’d agreed to wed me.
Me and Adder Viper of all people. I’d rather be trampled by one of their horses than feel that man’s balmy touch on my skin.
I understood how he worked though. We grew up together.
Adder was fueled by hate. It blinded him and controlled his emotions in a way that made him weak and blind to threats— threats like me.
His only defense was either killing me, which he couldn’t get away with, or insulting me, which he did regularly.
Adder was easy to defeat, well, maybe not easy but at least not impossible.
Spade, however, was a complete mystery. For someone so dark, powerful, and tough— who’d managed to wound his eye and leave him with a gnarly scar?
What was with the raven? He didn’t seem to be a warm and fuzzy pet person.
And why did he hate me so much?
Perhaps dinner would shed some light on these queries, though, I was surprised that Riot included his brother in our date. Or was this not a date?
My mind was spinning in a thousand different directions.
There was a cat-man in my closet and a red dress on my door and I had entirely too much time between then and dinner to stew in my mind.
One thing was clear, if I were going to win, I needed to approach every interaction with these boys like I would a hunt.
Learning my enemy, finding their weakness, manipulating them into submission, and striking, going for the kill when the opportunity presented itself.
A slight twinge in my gut turned at my plan. Which was preposterous. It’s why I came here, and they deserved it, and Prism needed me.
So, I got out, dried off, lathering myself in rose scented lotions before combing my clean hair, and stepped out into my room. Awaiting the bones who’d do my hair. Flipping through my grimoire, only seeing blank pages again, and wondering when my next hex would come.