Chapter 17 Thea
Chapter seventeen
Thea
Thea unlocked the door and was about to head back to the kitchen when she heard something scratching.
Oh no.
There was only one reason for something to be scratching at the door of the café this early in the morning. She sighed and opened the door, looking down as Nathaniel slunk in.
“Again?” she asked.
He let out a pitiful whine, and she tried not to smile at how cute it was. He wouldn’t appreciate that.
“You want some milk?” she asked.
He let out a disgruntled meow, and Thea couldn’t hide her grin.
“I don’t know what that means,” she said, “so I’ll get you some. And if you don’t want it, Ginger will drink it.”
Nat continued yapping at her as she made her way into the kitchen and poured a saucer of milk for him.
“Were you a cat most of the night?” she asked him, and he meowed.
“I think we should figure out a way of communicating,” she said. “What if you growl when it’s no and meow for yes?”
Nathaniel sat back on his haunches and glared at her.
Thea threw her hands up in the air.
“What do you want from me?” she asked. “I’ve never tried to communicate with a cat before. What about that exactly is unacceptable?”
He let out a purr that was so low, it felt threatening.
“Fine, I won’t try to communicate with you,” she said, unable to hide her grin.
Ginger sauntered over, making her way into the kitchen and letting out a pleased purr when she saw Nathaniel, who backed away from her and the milk.
Thea could hardly hide her smile.
“You two are gonna have to learn to get along,” she said, “until we can figure this out.”
Nathaniel growled.
“Oh, now you want to use my method?” she teased him. “You look tired.” How she could tell that a cat looked tired, she wasn’t entirely sure—but nevertheless, he did. “You go take a nap. I’ll get my work done and see if I can send a message to Guinevere. Beatrice said we should talk to her.”
Nathaniel continued grumbling, but he made his way to the fireplace and settled down in his favorite chair.
It should’ve been a sign that he was Nathaniel when the cat chose to sit in his favorite chair every time—but in Thea’s defense, she had hardly expected him to show up in cat form in the beginning.
The door opened, and Conrad appeared, settling in at the corner table with a hat pulled over his head.
“Attempting to disguise yourself again?” Thea asked as she walked his drink over to him.
He handed her two coins instead of one. “Thank you for bringing it,” he said.
“Yes, I’m hiding. Those two girls won’t stop trying to follow me.
I thought maybe after everything that happened with Dietrich and Ella, they would move on.
But it apparently only made them more desperate, because I can’t get them to leave me alone. ”
“I’m very sorry,” Thea said, patting him on the shoulder as she went back to the kitchen to pull the muffins out of the oven. They smelled like they were just about done.
Poor Conrad needed to find a girl that wasn’t chasing after him.
“I hope you’re happy that he’s back,” Thea told Ginger, who was looking between the saucer of milk on the floor and Nathaniel, unable to choose which one she wanted. “Drink the milk. Let him sleep.”
Nathaniel had said Ginger could understand her—but if Ginger had been able to listen to her all along, she certainly didn’t listen to instruction.
Perhaps that was a cat thing.
The sun was high in the sky when the bell rang and Guinevere appeared in the doorway, a mischievous smirk on her face and a bulky bag on her hip.
“Hello,” she called as she came around the counter. “Beatrice said you might need some help.”
There was something in her eyes that gleamed differently than someone who had only heard that her help was needed, though. Thea narrowed her eyes.
“Did you know before?” she asked.
“Maybe,” Guinevere admitted, “but I didn’t know how to bring it up to you.”
“You didn’t think it would be nice to know?” Thea whispered, looking over at Nat, still peacefully sleeping. He must have had a very long night.
“What was I supposed to say?” Guinevere asked, just as quietly. “‘Hello, the man that you love to hate was just turned into a cat outside your front door, what would you like me to do about this?’”
“I...can see why that might be a hard sell,” Thea admitted. “But I still wish you’d told me.”
“Next time someone you know is turned into a cat, I’ll be sure to inform you right away,” Guinevere said, looking around. She grinned when she saw Nat sleeping by the fire.
“So you need help with your situation,” Guinevere said. It wasn’t a question. “I can try to help. I can’t promise anything, and I can’t promise that it will be pleasant. It was a bit of a situation when I helped with Alexander,” she said.
“I think I speak for both of us when I say that he’s willing to do anything to end this,” Thea said.
A customer walked up to the counter, and Thea went through the motions of selling a muffin, her mind still on Guinevere and the fact that she might be able to help.
“What do you need from me to get started?” she asked when she was able to turn back.
“Well, Beatrice clued me in,” Guinevere said, patting the bag slung over her shoulder, “so I have most of what I need. I could use a table out of sight, though.
“If that’s all you need,” Thea said, gesturing to the back of the kitchen, “I can make that happen.”
She led the way toward her prep table in the back and watched, fascinated, as Guinevere pulled out a book and packets of dried herbs and a couple of bottles.
“I’m an herbwitch,” Guinevere whispered.
“My ability is in taking herbs and plants and other natural ingredients and combining them with a little something extra to make a potion that will help with...other things. It means that while things may not be pleasant to taste, they usually make something happen. Sometimes it’s not exactly what I intended on happening,” she said, her lips curling up in a smirk, “but it shouldn’t kill him.
And if I get it right, we may be able to turn him back permanently. Or not.”
She shrugged. “I’ve never tried this, and since it’s not a permanent curse, I don’t know that anything I try will work.
I’ll give it three tries. If at the end it doesn’t work, well, I’ll do more research and be back later.
So let me start the first one, and we’ll give it to him and see what happens. ”
A customer walked up to the counter, and Thea hurried up to help Mrs. Hocking and her girls. They came to town every two weeks and always stopped in for a little treat.
“Hello, girls,” she said, pretending that her mind was not in the back room with Guinevere. She could hear Guinevere making noise as she made a drink for Mrs. Hocking and grabbed a pastry for each of the girls.
“Let me just check on something,” she said after taking the coins and putting them in her pocket. “I’ll be back in a moment if you need anything.”
She hurried back to Guinevere, who was pouring something from a bowl into a bottle that already contained a mysterious mixture that looked remarkably like the sludge left over after frying bacon.
“I’m glad I’m not Nathaniel,” she said with a grin.
Guinevere laughed. “I have reason to believe that my potions do not taste the best,” she said. “I lost my grandmother before she was able to teach me that part. And well, I can’t exactly go around asking if there’s anyone else who has that knowledge to pass down to me.”
Guinevere sounded forlorn, and Thea’s heart squeezed at the thought. She couldn’t imagine if she’d lost her father before he had taught her almost everything he knew. What would her life have been like if she hadn’t had all that generational knowledge?
“I’m sure you’ll do great,” she said, patting Guinevere’s shoulder.
Guinevere gave her a wry grin. “You don’t really know how to do physical affection, do you?” she teased. “It’s fine. I’m not looking for sympathy. Just explaining why Nathaniel might actually throw up after drinking this.”
Thea’s nose wrinkled. “Is that something we have to go through?” she asked. “Have you ever cleaned up cat vomit before?”
“Unfortunately, yes,” Guinevere said, “and magical cat vomit at that. I can assure you it’s not the end of the world. I think this is just about ready,” she said, looking at the potion critically and shaking it about. “Do you want to wake him up and bring him back here?”
“I’m surprised he’s still sleeping,” Thea said.
“I’m not.” Guinevere shook her head. “Cats sleep a lot, and the man is probably chronically sleep-deprived from spending all his time chasing after you and taking care of orphans. And I’m sure he had a rough night, if he was in that form and not here.”
Thea raised an eyebrow, and Guinevere grinned.
“Your neighbor’s cat was complaining about the orange male in his territory last night.”
Thea’s eyes widened at the implication.
“You understand them?” she whispered.
Guinevere shrugged. “I can mostly understand them. Rose is by far the easiest to understand, but I suppose that’s because she’s a dragon, not just a cat.”
“So it’s true,” Thea whispered.
“Yes, they have a baby dragon. She might be one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen.”
Thea’s eyes lit up at the idea of a baby dragon. “I’ll have to go meet her, because that sounds amazing.”
“It is,” Guinevere said. “Now go get Nathaniel. It’s time.”
Nerves filled her stomach as Thea walked over to the fireplace and began to pet the top of Nathaniel’s head.
He woke slowly, stretching and looking up at her with bleary eyes.
“We have something for you to try,” Thea told him. “Will you come to the kitchen?”
Nat let out a sleepy meow, and Thea did her best to hide her smile at how adorable he was as a tired cat.
“Guinevere is here,” she told him, hoping he would remember the significance of that. He seemed to, because his eyes immediately shot open and he quickly got to his feet.
“I see that will get you moving,” she teased. “In a hurry for something?”
He glared balefully at her as he followed her into the kitchen, and Thea did her best to hide her smile.
This was a little too much fun.
Guinevere poured the potion into a saucer. “Okay,” she said with a sigh, “I’m going to warn you now that I don’t know what this is going to do, and it might taste terrible, but it shouldn’t kill you—and hopefully it will turn you human again.”
Nat looked up at Thea and let out a disgruntled yowl.
Thea fought the urge to giggle. “We’re trying,” she said, giving him a stern look, “and you’re just going to have to deal with it.”
“All right. Option number one,” Guinevere said, placing the saucer down. “You should probably drink most of it. I don’t know how much it would take for it to be effective.”
Nat stared at it in distaste before sauntering over. He leaned in, then recoiled.
“I know it doesn’t smell great,” Guinevere said, “but you’re not a human, so I don’t know how to tell you to cover your nose. And I don’t think it’ll work the same if I try to do it for you.”
Nathaniel glared at them, growling, before leaning down and lapping it up as quickly as he could. He made it about halfway before backing away and making hurling noises.
“Don’t you throw it up,” Thea said quickly. “We don’t know if it will work if you do.”
Nathaniel used his paw to shove the bowl away.
“I think he’s done,” Thea said with a grin.
As the hurling noises stopped, the women watched the cat with interest.
Ginger appeared around the counter, made her way over to investigate, then jumped back, sharing her displeasure at the smell.
“Sorry,” Guinevere said with a shrug. “You shouldn’t be so nosy.”
Ginger continued to express her displeasure…while Nathaniel did nothing.
“How quickly should it work?” Thea asked.
Guinevere frowned at him. “We should probably see something right now,” she said, looking aside.
“What was this one supposed to do?” Thea asked.
“Well, I put in a few things that are supposed to help you feel more like yourself again after an illness, and I had hoped it would transfer the illness factor to the curse, but it doesn’t appear to have done so.”
Nathaniel let out a loud wail.
Guinevere sighed. “On to the next one. Let me tweak it some more, and I’ll be back.”
Nathaniel made his disapproval known.
“No, go. Take a nap and shush,” Thea said, waving her fingers at him. “You don’t need to be here for this part.”
He continued to vent his frustration as he made his way back to the fireplace.
Thea and Guinevere exchanged amused glances. “He’ll get over it,” Guinevere said.
Thea made her way back out to the counter to watch her customers as Guinevere started making her next potion. She watched Nathaniel settle back into his chair and shoved down the voice of worry that said, What if Guinevere can’t fix it?
Things went on much the same way for the next two potions that Guinevere tried. She would research things in her book, come up with a concoction, Nathaniel would act as if it might kill him to drink it—but he would drink it anyway—and nothing would happen.
It was extremely frustrating.
She was ready to give up—whether Guinevere was or not.
She wasn’t sure how she could convince Nat to keep going, though, when she wanted to give up, too.
“That’s the third one,” Guinevere said with a sigh as nothing happened yet again. “I think it’s best for me to take a break. We can reconvene tomorrow, maybe, but I can’t do much more before I start to hurt myself.”
“You can hurt yourself making potions?” Thea asked.
“Yes. It uses a different type of energy, and if I use too much of it, I’ll get hurt,” Guinevere explained. “But now I know to stop while I’m ahead.”
“Thank you for trying,” Thea said quietly. “Even if you couldn’t make it work today.”
Guinevere nodded, her motions slower than Thea would have expected. Perhaps she had overdone it more than she was letting on.
“I’m always happy to help,” she said softly. “I just wish I could’ve made a difference today.”
Nathaniel let out a meow.
“I think he’s trying to tell you thank you,” Thea said.
Nathaniel meowed emphatically.
“Yes, he is, and you’re both very welcome,” Guinevere said with a smile. “I’ll see you later.”
She left, and Thea stared at Nat, who had slunk into the corner.
“I’m sorry she couldn’t fix it today,” she said.
Nat sighed but didn’t say anything else.
“She’s going to try again,” Thea said, not sure if she was trying to encourage Nathaniel or herself. “Hopefully we’ll get somewhere.”
Nathaniel didn’t say anything. He had to be even more discouraged than Thea was.
She sighed. If only she could help more. But this was something he had to face alone, no matter how much she wished otherwise.
“We will figure it out,” she told him.
Or she might not get to spend much time with the man she loved—at least not in his human form.