mortal offense. She picked up her comb instead. Running the teeth gently down the cat’s spine earned her a rusty-sounding purr. Ikylla let Isa comb her for a moment, then she turned and rubbed her chin, first one side, then the other, on the teeth. Her eyes squinched in bliss. Her purr deepened, and she occasionally squeaked on the inhale.
When she began biting the teeth of the comb, Isa knew she’d had enough.
“May we get some sleep, now?”
Kneading her paws, Ikylla blinked permission.
“So kind.”
Ikylla jumped off the counter and led the way into the bedroom. She flowed up onto the bed, watching from her nest in the covers while Isa tugged on clean underwear and an old T-shirt.
Isa climbed into bed. Before turning out the bedside lamp, she opened the drawer of her nightstand and picked up the black feather she kept there. It glinted, as shiny and smooth as the day she’d found it a decade ago.
Magic tingled from the feather to her fingers, like the caress of a fond parent. Reassurance? Encouragement?
Isa snorted. Wishful thinking, more like. She set the feather back in the drawer and closed it. She switched off the lamp. Climbing in under the covers, she shifted to the center of the mattress.
Gus leaped up and began rooting in the covers, arranging his spot to his liking before he turned a series of circles. He flopped against her right side.
“Oof.”
He heaved a great doggy sigh as she petted his ears.
Ikylla allowed a couple of strokes of her short, silky fur before she snuggled between Isa’s left arm and rib cage.
Surrounded by the warmth of her animal family, Isa slept.
***
Gus twitching in his dreams pulled her from the depths of slumber. He whimpered.
Still groggy, Isa fought to open her eyes so she could nudge him. It hit her in that instant. Ikylla was gone from her spot. The cat’s body heat evaporating from Isa’s skin made her shiver.
Gus shuddered.
Isa drew breath to say his name. He bolted to his feet and howled. Her heart jolted.
Something thudded against the building. Jagged yellow/red magic slammed through her chest. The bed quivered from the impact. Downstairs, barely audible, glass crashed.
Isa froze for the elongated split-second it took for the alarm in the store downstairs to begin shrieking. She sat bolt upright.
Her cell phone started ringing, barely audible over the alarm. She grabbed it from the bedside table and hit ANSWER . “Hello?”
The dog fled.
“Ms. Romanchzyk, this is Jet City Protection. We have an active alarm at—”
“Someone just smashed the window!” Isa shouted as she rolled out of the bed. She had to unplug the phone before she could stand upright.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
“We’ve alerted the police, Ms. Romanchzyk. They’re on their way. I’d like you to remain on the line until they arrive.”
“Setting the phone down long enough to put on a pair of pants,” she countered. “I’m not facing a smash and grab and endless police reports in my pajamas.”
“The police won’t care, Ms.—”
“I care. One sec.” She yanked on a pair of jeans, pulled off the ratty Weird Ink T-shirt she slept in, put on a bra, a long-sleeve tee, and the first sweatshirt that came to hand.
Muffled thumps had started to come from the other tenants in the building, audible even above the shrill of the alarm. She expected half of them to end up pounding on her door as if she hadn’t been ripped out of sleep by the same thing they had.
She snatched up the phone and headed for the door as she said, “Back.”
“The police report they are on scene.”
“Okay. Headed down to secure the alarm before my neighbors lynch me.”
“Don’t hang up, Ms. Romanchzyk,” the guy on the other end said.
The rain must have let up. The streetlights lit up the front room well enough that she didn’t need to switch on a light. She stuffed her feet into a shabby pair of cowboy boots that she should have discarded long ago and grabbed her jacket,
When she began biting the teeth of the comb, Isa knew she’d had enough.
“May we get some sleep, now?”
Kneading her paws, Ikylla blinked permission.
“So kind.”
Ikylla jumped off the counter and led the way into the bedroom. She flowed up onto the bed, watching from her nest in the covers while Isa tugged on clean underwear and an old T-shirt.
Isa climbed into bed. Before turning out the bedside lamp, she opened the drawer of her nightstand and picked up the black feather she kept there. It glinted, as shiny and smooth as the day she’d found it a decade ago.
Magic tingled from the feather to her fingers, like the caress of a fond parent. Reassurance? Encouragement?
Isa snorted. Wishful thinking, more like. She set the feather back in the drawer and closed it. She switched off the lamp. Climbing in under the covers, she shifted to the center of the mattress.
Gus leaped up and began rooting in the covers, arranging his spot to his liking before he turned a series of circles. He flopped against her right side.
“Oof.”
He heaved a great doggy sigh as she petted his ears.
Ikylla allowed a couple of strokes of her short, silky fur before she snuggled between Isa’s left arm and rib cage.
Surrounded by the warmth of her animal family, Isa slept.
***
Gus twitching in his dreams pulled her from the depths of slumber. He whimpered.
Still groggy, Isa fought to open her eyes so she could nudge him. It hit her in that instant. Ikylla was gone from her spot. The cat’s body heat evaporating from Isa’s skin made her shiver.
Gus shuddered.
Isa drew breath to say his name. He bolted to his feet and howled. Her heart jolted.
Something thudded against the building. Jagged yellow/red magic slammed through her chest. The bed quivered from the impact. Downstairs, barely audible, glass crashed.
Isa froze for the elongated split-second it took for the alarm in the store downstairs to begin shrieking. She sat bolt upright.
Her cell phone started ringing, barely audible over the alarm. She grabbed it from the bedside table and hit ANSWER . “Hello?”
The dog fled.
“Ms. Romanchzyk, this is Jet City Protection. We have an active alarm at—”
“Someone just smashed the window!” Isa shouted as she rolled out of the bed. She had to unplug the phone before she could stand upright.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
“We’ve alerted the police, Ms. Romanchzyk. They’re on their way. I’d like you to remain on the line until they arrive.”
“Setting the phone down long enough to put on a pair of pants,” she countered. “I’m not facing a smash and grab and endless police reports in my pajamas.”
“The police won’t care, Ms.—”
“I care. One sec.” She yanked on a pair of jeans, pulled off the ratty Weird Ink T-shirt she slept in, put on a bra, a long-sleeve tee, and the first sweatshirt that came to hand.
Muffled thumps had started to come from the other tenants in the building, audible even above the shrill of the alarm. She expected half of them to end up pounding on her door as if she hadn’t been ripped out of sleep by the same thing they had.
She snatched up the phone and headed for the door as she said, “Back.”
“The police report they are on scene.”
“Okay. Headed down to secure the alarm before my neighbors lynch me.”
“Don’t hang up, Ms. Romanchzyk,” the guy on the other end said.
The rain must have let up. The streetlights lit up the front room well enough that she didn’t need to switch on a light. She stuffed her feet into a shabby pair of cowboy boots that she should have discarded long ago and grabbed her jacket,
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