Chapter Twenty-Eight-Bella
“Goddess of power,
Hear our plea,
Villainous hearts,
Shall never see,
Castor’s Corner as a place,
To infiltrate and deface.
Keep our neighbors,
Safe and free,
As we will, mote it be.”
The words rolled out of us like muscle memory, the Trifecta’s magic surging and sparking around our bodies until the air smelled like roasted marshmallows and ozone.
Our Domovyks—Gryn, Ivan, and Petyr—zipped into view, their little magical bodies glowing, reinforcing the spell.
The polymers of the plastic lid morphed into pure steel, snapping shut with a clang that sent the vandals inside into another chorus of offended screeches.
Jaxson, Ryan, and Conrad appeared at the end of the alley, moving fast but not charging in.
They’d been waiting in the shadows just in case—and the fact they were letting us handle it while still ready to step in?
Yeah, that hit me right in the feels.
“You got that right, Sugar,” Conrad said with that slow, devastating grin of his.
He was pointing some kind of weapon at the steel bin like he’d been born to protect me.
Like a cross between a magic wand and an AK-47.
I didn’t even care that he’d read my mind again.
For the first time, it felt safe.
Comforting, even.
Ermagerd. I was in so much trouble.
I turned back to the bin now prison, aka magically impossible to break out of pet crate.
“Alright, you three, you’ve got a lot of explaining to do.”
There was a pause, then a simultaneous “Meoowww?” from inside.
The steel shimmered, the magic lock flaring just enough for us to get a peek—and that’s when Evie screeched, “Cats? You’re just cats!?”
Sure enough, three furious, floofy cats stared back at us.
One was wearing a tiny leather vest that read Vice President, EFFFU, another had on a rhinestone collar that spelled “Two Fangs,” and the third—a sleek black she-cat—had eyeliner so sharp it could cut glass.
“Oh, you Witches are gonna pay,” Two Fangs growled. “You don’t mess with the EFFFU.”
I threw up my hands. “Seriously? All this chaos because you guys are in a cat gang?”
“Correction,” the she-cat said with a sniff, “an elite cat gang.”
Donny deadpanned, “We got punk’d by militant house pets.”
Ryan choked back a laugh.
Jaxson outright lost it.
Conrad, though?
He just stepped closer to me, brushed his hand against mine, and murmured, “Don’t worry, Sugar. They’re all hiss and no claws.”
Except judging by the murderous glare the she-cat gave me, I wasn’t so sure.
“Evie, you saw the footage,” Donny said.
“I was puking my head off at the time, Donny. Forgive me for missing out,” she mumbled.
“You okay, Darlin’?” Jaxson asked, holstering his gun before gathering her close.
“Yeah, I just can’t shake this stomach bug,” she told him.
“Actually, Evie—”
“Not the time,” I interrupted.
“Okay, you three, spill. What is your beef with Castor’s Corner? And me, what is your beef with me?”
The three angry felines hissed and spit for two whole minutes before I zapped them with an extra-large dose of hardtack.
The stuff filled the interior of the cage, giving the little fuckers barely any room to move or breathe.
“Ouch! Okay, okay, we’ll talk!” the female shouted.
“We are here to represent the Etherworld Feline Familiar Union, EFFU for short.”
“Why are you saying FU, shouldn’t it be E F F U?” Donny asked.
“What she talking about?” Razor Paws mumbled to Two Fangs.
“Witches aren’t known for their smarts,” he told his fellow feline, and I added a little more hardtack to the cage.
“Ouch! Stop. Please!”
I’d caught the male cats’ names, but the female’s name, I did not know. And I didn’t care.
“Leave them to us,” Petyr snarled. “We will take care of these vile felines! You who vowed to protect Witches and have been harming them shall pay for your misdeeds!”
“Actually,” I told him. “You don’t have to do that, Petyr. We’ve contacted La Befana, herself, and these three are going to get exactly what they deserve.”
“La Befana? Noooooo!” they howled.
Just then, an enormous BOOM sounded.
The shuffling of little paws had me, Donny, Evie, our boys, and the three Domovyks turning around to welcome our new arrivals.
“Alright, where’s the funky felines at?” a large Maine coon with a brindle coat and a collar that read Marcus Aurelius Felinibus asked.
“That’s them alright. Dang EFFU reps causing a fussssss,” Esteban Notail added.
“We gots it from here, youz fine Trifecta badasses,” Fluffy Iglesias said.
“Thank you. I was hoping to hear why they did this.”
“We’ll never tell you treachoroussss Witchessss,” the female mumbled. It was hard to hear since she and her two companions were smashed against the bars from all the hardtack piled inside the cage.
“Dats easy,” Fluffy Iglesias continued.
“EFFU is a non-authorized organization of feline familiars wanting to control what kinds of familiars go to Witches. They’s what you call fanatsics and shit. They’s don’t respect the supernatural order, and now, we got the three worst bandits thanks to you’s three smokin’ hot females.”
“Watch it,” Jaxson muttered.
“No foul, Wolf daddy. Just remarking on they fine assetssss,” Esteban Notail said.
I grinned at the three infamous familiars—they worked for La Befana herself—and I thanked them with a couple of boxes of my new Peanut Butter Bacon Delights before they took off with the EFFU crew.
“Please make sure Magdelena and Drusilla get the small boxes of goodies. The three big ones are for you three,” I said, handing the large pile of bakery boxes to Esteban Notail, who started drooling immediately.
“Thank you very much, Bellicious,” Fluffy Iglesias replied. “The goods shall be delivered to those two badasses Witch bosses pronto. Let’s go, boyzz!”
After we signed off on the capture and scribbled our sworn affidavits—because apparently Witch justice still required paperwork—Jaxson Swooshed the whole report (complete with magical mugshots) to La Befana herself.
Good riddance.
That was one magical mess I was thrilled to see handled.
Those fur-coated hooligans had been attacking my shop, for Goddess’s sake.
My shop.
I don’t care if you’re a magical familiar or the personification of Karma itself, you don’t mess with my tarts.
Truth be told, I wasn’t sure how much more of it I could have taken.
Jealousy and misplaced righteousness were ugly beasts on their own—add claws, fangs, and a union card, and you had a recipe for chaos.
We were lucky we stepped in before anyone—Witch, Shifter, or feline—got hurt.
Petyr was getting the night off to Swoosh-call his family, which was sweet, so I told him to take the whole house to himself.
He immediately invited Gryn and Ivan over for an evening of preferans, vodka, and hardtack.
Because apparently nothing says “relaxation” like a full Slavic familiar bro-night.
“Well, that’s that,” Evie said with a satisfied sigh, brushing her palms like she’d just vanquished evil and folded the laundry.
“Come on, Darlin’,” Jaxson drawled, scooping her up bridal-style like the overgrown, muscle-bound wolf prince he was. “Let’s go home.”
Ryan glanced my way, one big arm wrapped possessively around Donny. “Unless you need us to stick around and clean up, Bella?”
I shook my head. “Nothing to clean. They never made it inside.”
Then I exhaled.
Hard.
My whole body felt lighter.
Then Conrad stepped forward, hand extended.
“Shall we?”
There was something about the way he asked—gentle, but firm.
Like the invitation was really a promise.
I didn’t hesitate. I slipped my hand into his, my palm tingling instantly, and my heart decided to throw a parade in my chest.
“Do you mean it, Bella?” His green eyes glowed in that way that made me want to fan myself and check if my lipstick was still intact.
I smiled, feeling the decision settle deep in my bones.
“I mean it, Big Guy.”
The corner of his mouth curved in a slow, sinful smile.
“Then let’s go home so I can finally claim you, Sugar.”
And just like that, I was ready to take the leap.
Tonight.
No magic spell, no divine sign—just me, my Snake Shifter, and a leap of faith towards a future that suddenly didn’t feel so scary.