Kissed by Cat

Garrett turned back to the counter and filled a bowl with the moist food. He flaked the meaty nuggets with a fork, then pivoted to give the bowl to Catherine.

She took a step forward and reached for the dish. When she did, her hand brushed his. His remaining brain cell sputtered to a stop.

“Thanks.” Her lips curved in another smile. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had smiled at him like that.

Garrett’s heart gave a jerky lurch.

The only response he could muster up came out more like half a grunt than a word. He whirled back to the counter, measuring medicines into cups and syringes.

Concentrate on work, not on the woman standing five feet behind him and wearing his lab coat in ways that a lab coat should never be worn.

“Doctor McAllister—”

“I have to check on the other animals.” He left the room before he lost the capacity to breathe.

The woman was trouble, without a doubt. The sooner she was gone, the better.

Catherine watched the hurried, retreating figure of Garrett McAllister. So like a human. Heck, so like a male.

“Us girls should stick together, huh?” she said to the cat, placing Queenie and her food back into the cage. A final pat, then she left the feline to her meal. Something was bothering Queenie, but when Catherine had tried to read her, the cat had shut down and blocked out any attempt to communicate. Ever since the curse, she’d been able to “talk” to other animals in a silent manner. Sort of a mental telepathy that had helped her find a good place to sleep, a meal when she needed one and her way to a new temporary home. But now, as the end of the curse approached, those powers were weaker. Catherine decided to try again later. “I’ll be back in a little bit.”

Catherine stood in the center of the room. Should she follow him? She was, after all, supposed to be proving herself as his assistant, which meant actually assisting. He hadn’t given her anything to do, but then again, he didn’t seem the type to ask for help.

She wrinkled up her nose, ran through twenty reasons why she should not chase after a cranky veterinarian who wanted nothing to do with her, then headed out the door and down the hall to the second set of kennels.

As she walked, she realized Garrett could be useful.

Her tracking skills had grown weaker as the years passed, her instincts less sharp, as if her feline abilities weakened as the curse’s end neared. She’d seen it when she’d tried to connect with Queenie and been blocked.

As a human, she had little. No money, no clothes, no transportation. As a cat, even less.

Finding the kittens was going to be difficult. She wanted to find them, one last rescue before she couldn’t rescue anyone anymore. She wasn’t sure what would happen when the curse ended, but she was sure many of her telepathic gifts would disappear. She had to help those orphans at least. Because if there was anything Catherine understood, it was being without a family. The trio could be anywhere by now, though chances were good they’d stick close to where she’d last seen them. Wherever that might be. She’d lost all sense of direction during the midnight car ride. They could be thirty blocks or thirty miles away.

Finding her way to the white-picket-fence life for the last few days of her human existence would be even more impossible. She’d lived in castles, in spacious mansions with rich people who never noticed her, thinking that was the life. But it wasn’t. As she got older, Catherine realized the one thing she craved was the one thing she’d never had—simplicity. What had she been thinking when she’d come up with that crazy idea? She hadn’t been thinking. She’d simply hopped a bus and headed for the Midwest, getting off just before sunset yesterday.

No plan, no idea how she was going to accomplish this. Just an overwhelming urge to taste that one bit of life left unsavored.

She hated to admit it, but she could use a helping hand. Someone who knew animals, knew the city and could help her find what she needed before the sun set on Saturday.

That someone could very well be Garrett McAllister, whether he liked it or not.

She heard his voice before she reached the room. The same soft reassuring tones he’d used on her last night. With animals, he was clearly at ease. With people—

Well, he had the personality of a grumpy grizzly.

Catherine could understand. She’d never been much of a people person herself, even less so in the two hundred years since she’d been cursed to spend her days as a drifter and her nights as a cat.

That kind of life gave a woman a whole new appreciation for other species, particularly the kind with fur. And a new vision of the humans who too often saw animals as disposable. Catherine had long ago realized the way a man treated his pets was often a good indication of how he’d treat other people.

Garrett, however, didn’t fit that theory. He was caring and tender with animals; prickly and annoyed with people. Last night, though, he’d been kind and gentle. He’d treated her well, as if he cared about what happened to her. No one had acted like that with her before, especially not when she’d been in feline form.

Perhaps he understood what it was like to be a stray, on the fringes of the ordinary, pretty, “groomed” world. He always kept his face turned slightly away from her whenever they talked, as if he didn’t want her to look at him.

In his office, he’d stayed in the shadows of the hall, and then here, in the shelter, the lights had been dimmed and Garrett had kept his back to her most of the time.

Keeping the scars from view, she suspected. He was an outsider, just like she was. Maybe…

No, that was a crazy thought.

On Saturday, none of this would matter anymore either way. The curse would end and she’d be left forever as a cat. She had five more sunsets, six more sunrises and then…it would be over.

Before that happened, she had one last hurrah to live. She’d already traveled the world. Seen the sights, met the kings. All she wanted now was a taste of the ordinary. Of waking up in one place day after day. Feeding the birds in the morning and watching the sun set on a back porch. Such simple things, but for a woman who had spent her life going from place to place, century to century, it was the only thing she craved.

And she had to find those kittens. To give one more happy ending to a set of young strays.

Catherine sighed. She had a lot to accomplish by Saturday. Changing Garrett McAllister’s life was not on that list.

Then why did she suddenly find herself at the door to the kennels? It wasn’t just because she wanted to work as a vet’s assistant. There was more.

She’d known since the first moment he’d caught her and held her close with kindness and trust. There’d been something in his eyes, something indefinable.

A connection.

Try as she might, she couldn’t ignore that invisible tether.

She found him working with an older golden retriever. He had already folded up the sleeves of his pale blue shirt and flipped his navy and red striped tie over his shoulder to keep it out of the way. He looked so at ease, so comfortable, with his dark wavy hair slightly messy and his hands capably handling the dog. This was clearly where Garrett was most at home.

“There’s a pile of bandages over there if you want to help,” he said without turning around.

She grabbed the bandages and crossed to him. White cotton strips ran across the opposite flank of the dog. The dog’s fur had faded and paled in some spots and she limped a little as she sidled up to Garrett. “Is she hurt?”

“Nah, just thinks she’s still a puppy.” He gave the dog a tender caress. She nuzzled him back. “She raced a squirrel and lost. Hit a tree with her hip and scraped it up pretty bad.”

When he reached to take the bandages, his hand brushed hers. A jolt rushed through her and Catherine drew back. Garrett turned away, busied with applying the new bandage.

Had he been as affected as she? Had he felt that…that electrical shock?

It was her feet against the carpet. Static electricity. Yeah, except her feet were bare and they were standing on vinyl flooring.

The light was streaming through the windows now, exposing his face clearly. She saw the jagged lines that ran down his face, disappearing under his neckline, almost like pale pink zippers running along his cheeks and neck. The backs of his hands were scarred as well, dark red in some places, soft cherry in others.

Something terrible had happened to Garrett McAllister. Something he seemed to want to hide, judging by the way he kept his face averted and avoided looking directly at her.

Garrett led the retriever back to her kennel, giving her another gentle pat and a few kind words before closing the door and moving on to a small multicolored Pekingese. His hand hovered over the latch, his back to her. “This isn’t going to work, Miss Wyndham. Maybe you should find other employment.”

She crossed the room in three strides, coming to a stop beside him. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t work well with others.”