Chapter 10
Mori
Moonscale London
The day after Caster barged into my house and beat the shit out of my eyelids while I slept, I baked a cake and knocked on Era’s door.
I didn’t have a clue what I was going to say to him because I had planned to keep to myself and not get involved in the lives of others.
I certainly didn’t plan on talking spirits or magic with anyone but Caster was an insistent little shit.
I stood between him and Snowy as I waited for my neighbor to answer the door. It took several long minutes before we heard shuffling inside and the door opened a few seconds later.
“Sorry about the….. Cake?” he blinked at me.
Era was a head taller than me and had long hair that currently needed a good brushing. By the looks of him his wolf probably did too. He had green eyes and a sharp jawline.
“I didn’t order a cake,” he shook his head and started to close the door.
“Caster asked me to check on you,” I blurted out the words before I could stop myself.
Era leaned his head out of the door and looked around as if he expected someone to jump out of the bushes and yell ‘boo!’.
“Is this a joke?” he asked. “Dead cats aren’t funny.”
“But they do have a sense of humor!” my wolf chuckled inside his inner sanctum.
“No, I can see spirits. Have been able to my whole life. Yesterday, Caster – Alcaster – woke me up from a nap by slapping my eyelids. He insisted I come and check on you.”
“Yeah, buddy. It wasn’t that hard to put two and two together and figure out my cat died, huh? I’m not giving you any money. Take your cake and shove it where the sun don’t shine.”
“I don’t want your money. I want your cat to leave me alone,” I said, irritation making the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
“Tell him when we went to Spain and he slept with that bear guy that I decided to play slap ball in the shower and the guy didn’t appreciate it because he had no sense of humor about his dangling bits.
It’s not my fault that you all walk around with your bits dangling to the ground and expect me not to whack them,” Caster said from beside me.
“Uh, when you were on holiday in Spain, he swatted a delicate area of your – um.. company while he was in the shower,” I said.
Era blinked. That wasn’t the sort of thing you posted about on social media. He might not have told any other shifter about it. Though, if it had been me, I’d have told everyone because I would’ve laughed until I exploded.
“How did you know about that?” he asked.
“Caster just told me.”
“You’re not funny!” he said, his fingers curling into fists at his sides.
“Can we start again? I’m not trying to be humorous. I was more than willing to leave you alone and let you howl yourself hoarse but your cat’s not having it. In my experience, cats are little jerks like that. Can I come in or do you want to come to my place?”
“Give me the cake,” he said.
I handed it off and he stepped back and shut the door.
“We’ll just have to try again tomorrow,” Caster sighed. “Maybe if I eat enough, he’ll be able to see me. Then he’ll have to believe you.”
A howl tore from the other side of the door, and I couldn’t help but feel in the pit of my stomach that I was making everything worse.