This town was populated with asshole magi apparently, but there were plenty of good people here too. However, there was one magus at least who smelled good to me. Squinting, I tried recalling how I'd looked into the wards back at Sabrina's. Nothing happened immediately, but as I waited, colors began to fade into existence. A soft golden hue came from a building in The Commons, a sort of low-rent shopping center where small businesses went to slowly dwindle into bankruptcy. Until recently it had actually hosted a video rental shop. I concentrated on the light in The Commons, and it slowly came into focus as several dots of color: two green and one red. I recognized the red hue. O'Meara's precise shade of red.
I gave a little chirp of cheer.
Unexpectedly an awed voice drifted up from below. "Holy shit, Bob, look at that." A quick glance into the lot below revealed a cop car parked not one hundred feet from the sign, just beyond what you could see from the intersection. A thin-faced cop had his head poked out the window and stared directly at me, jaw hanging wide enough to sling a cue ball into it. I hunkered down and flattened myself against the sign, knowing that it was too late. I had hoped the parking lot would be deserted or just occupied by a few bored, and preferably stoned, teens. Cops, though—cops had guns. Furthermore, getting down could be much trickier than getting up. Maybe the cougar brain knew how far I could fall without hurting myself, but I sure as hell didn't.
"Look at what?" A second, much less hushed voice asked.
"On the sign! There's a cat on the sign!"
"So? Call the fire department."
"Bob, it’s as big as Billy."
"What? You’re nuts. Where?" I tried to will myself into a two-dimensional shape. It didn't work. "I see a lump on the sign."
"Fuck. Hand me the flashlight."
My purr had turned into a growl of frustration as my ears began to burn with embarrassment. I risked a look at the cop car and got a face full of halogen light searing my retinas.
"Woah, Jesus, he's a biggie."
I looked away from them, trying to see past the multicolored streak across my vision.
"Should we call it in?"
"Nah, we'll just use the shotgun. Handgun might just piss it off. Load some slugs."
Rifle? Oh, hell. Now I wanted that disconnect to happen, to save me. I willed it, but my body stayed stubbornly under my own control. I heard the pop of the squad car's trunk. No time. I stared down at the ground, swallowing back bile. It certainly looked too high. But between the fall and the gun, maybe if I broke my leg they'd call wildlife rescue instead of putting me out of my misery. Yeah, right.
I didn't leap. It was more of a hop and gravity did the rest. A brief rush of air, and then a hard jolt as my paws slammed into the ground. For a moment I just stood there, my brain frantically toggling between disbelief and shock. The squawk of the police officers, followed by the swishing clack of a sliding bolt, sent me scrambling forward. With a panicked scream I practically tumbled down the hill. The night air behind me filled with curses. I didn't stop. I didn't look. I just charged out into the street and through the beams of two headlights, registering them only as a flash in my peripheral vision. The screech of tires was already behind me as I vaulted the grey metal crash barrier. I sprinted across the Chase Bank parking lot and through the drive-through teller. Chest heaving, I dashed around the corner of the building and waited in the shadows. Only once several tons of brick and other construction materials were between me and the cops did the pounding of my heart start to recede from my ears.
Poking my nose around the corner, I saw the two cops standing beneath the sign. The bigger of the two had a rifle cradled in his arms. Although not pointed at me, I could see him looking in my general direction. They'd seen where I had run to.
I needed more distance. Keeping the building between me and the cops, I dashed into the bushes behind the bank along an ivy-covered chain-link fence. The top of the sign was visible from this position but not the cops. Taking a deep breath and maybe saying something like a prayer, I scaled the fence and fell into the next lot, a twenty-four-hour gas station. The high-pitched scream of a woman hit my ears like a hammer. I looked up in time to see the door slam shut on a Ford Fiesta as the engine started with the hose still in its gas tank. The woman peeled out, kicking up stones that stung my nose, and a sharp snap split the air as the fuel hose broke away from the pump.
"Hey!" a hoarse voice called out from the door to the Quickie Mart. "Hey!" the attendant shouted at the car as it screeched into the road with no headlights on. "Aw, goddammit!" He never saw me circle around the back of the building.
There was just a grocery store parking lot to pass through and I'd be at the Commons. The grocery store parking lot was empty of everything but a few rats, which scurried between the sparse parking islands, and I arrived at The Commons without any holes in my body. While much newer than the Plaza, The Commons always reminded me of a trailer park for small businesses. The grounds were divided into three separate parking lots with six to eight storefront units around each. Adding to confusion were a few stores nestled between these areas, which were nearly impossible to see unless you knew about them beforehand. All of the buildings looked identical, with grey Cape Cod–style shingles and dirty white trim. It did, however, have much more greenery than the Plaza, and I was able to creep into the cover of a foul-smelling tree to rest. The adrenaline had waned, revealing a deep bone ache in my front legs.
The
faintest trace of burned cinnamon wafted into my nose at the same time that I heard the gravel crunch beneath a black and white cop car pulling into the parking lot. It didn't appear to be the same car from the plaza, as the cop that rolled down the driver-side window was a leathery-faced woman with an angry squint to her eyes. She balanced her flashlight on the windowsill and flicked it on. Slowly she scanned the bushes by the driveway and began to sweep the light towards me.
Panic crawled down my spine like a swarm of icy bees. Didn't these cops have more important things to do than look for a cat? Answer: probably. But given that this town hadn't seen a cougar in over a hundred years, playing hunt the kitty was probably less boring than giving out traffic tickets in the middle of the night. The corner of the building stood about twenty feet away from me, with a sign declaring that Ralph's Barbershop was just around the corner. A quick dash and I'd be out of the lady cop's sight, but with only a few sparse saplings for cover she might see me.
I wish I could say I made a decision, but really the beam of light passing over my hiding spot decided for me. At first, I thought I was safe as the light passed, but the blinding light quickly returned. The cop gasped. I bolted.
My whiskers saved me from smacking directly into the wall. I raced along the side of the building, cursing the cop and her flashlight. A light appeared, a subtle glow that seemed to shine through my addled retinas. Magic, some sort of magic. I veered towards it as the growl of an engine sounded behind me. "It’s here! At The Commons!" the cop lady shouted.
A voice crackled back, "Well, one more cougar there and you'll have a genuine cougar party, May."
"Just get over here, you pussy!” she barked back at her radio.
Sprinting across the parking lot towards the light, I vaulted across her headlights and skidded to a stop in front of the dog groomer, where the light seemed to be coming from. I pawed at the door for a moment before realizing that it was more distant.
I heard the pop of a car door and glanced back at the cop, gun in hand, stepping out of her vehicle.
Had it been an option, I would have put my paws up and surrendered. Instead I jumped, hooked my claws onto the roof and scrambled up. I heard a pop and a thud. I heard her curse as I landed on the other side of the building. The scent of burned cinnamon was stronger here, tasting like hope. The source of the light that was my salvation belonged to a seedy-looking electronics store, its windows plastered with neon signs and traveling lights. It glowed warmly, as if the interior was lit with magic. A chain of golden orbs floated just below the roof like lanterns.
And there, through the glass door, I could see O'Meara, outlined with her warm red aura. I hoped she'd be happy to see me because I ran for that door with all the propulsion my body could muster. "Open the door! Open the door!" I shouted as I shot across the parking lot. Either they were going to open it or I was going through it.
Mercifully the door swung open at the last possible second, and I zipped into the building with far more momentum than the tile floor had the friction to stop. The ground below me disappeared for a brief moment as said momentum introduced me to the hardness of a wall. I opened my eyes just in time to see a rack of cell phone cases fall on my head.
"Thomas?" O'Meara's eyes looked about to pop out of her head. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Hoping you'll save me from becoming a wall mount at the local police department?" I joked weakly. My brains were starting to piece to together where I was, and I registered a second pair of eyes on me. Green-slitted eyes set within the face of an orange tom looked down on me, twinkling with amusement from the top of the glass counter I had crashed into.
"Cops?" O'Meara's head snapped around to look out the window, and then back at something on the countertop. "I need that coffee cup." She strode to the counter, plucking a paper cup from its surface.
"Hey, that’s—!" a male voice protested from behind the counter.
"Ice cold," O'Meara said as she dumped the coffee out into a plastic-looking shrub at the far end of the counter. After pulling out a magic marker, she scribbled something on the bottom of the cup before shoving it in my face. The coffee had been in it so long that the wax had broken down, staining the paper brown. "Bite it and get up."
My gaze flicked to her face, which brooked no argument, and back at the cup. It stank of coffee and chemicals.
"Bite it on the rim."
Cautiously I did so, steeling myself against taste of it. I bit where she instructed so than the cup was held over my nose. It took a bit of an effort not to gag on the scent. Not that it was an awful scent, but there was so much of it. I didn't have much time to dwell on it, though. O'Meara dug under my back, flipped me over and hauled me up onto my feet by the scruff of my neck with a grunt of effort. It happened so fast I wondered if I had somehow been teleported onto my feet when the door slammed open. May, the officer, stood in the doorway, panting and holding a four–D cell flashlight in her hand like a medieval mace. Her eyes fixed on me.
"What the hell? Get away from that!"
O'Meara's hand swept across my head and neck. "This is my dog, officer. I'd never have a wild animal as a pet."
The cop's eyes narrowed. "Your dog?" she said, drawing out the word as if it didn't quite make sense. I circled behind O'Meara, hiding as much as I could behind her girth.
"Why, yes. He barked and scared away the cougar you're looking for."
The confusion disappeared from the cop's face. "Ah, well, he is a big one. I wouldn't want to tangle with him either." She looked up at the man behind the counter, a thin man with dark copper skin, closely cropped hair and a neatly trimmed goatee, his eyes peeking over dark circles. "Open late, Jules?"
He gave her a weak smile. "I'm always open, Officer May."
"Uh huh." She nodded to the tom lounging on the counter, pulling my eyes back to him. I had to stare a little. Never in my life had I seen a cat so huge. And I'm not talking huge in like a tiger is large. This tom was so fat that smaller cats might orbit around the fellow. "You might want to be careful with old Jowls—he'd be a tempting snack."
Jules snorted. "Only if the cougar has an artery that needs plugging."
"Heeeey!" said the cat, apparently named Jowls. "I'm fit as a fiddle!" The cat pulled himself to his feet, his girth hiding more than half the length of his legs.
"Yes, I know, Jowls. You are lovely and adorable," the cop said. Then with a suspicious glance at me and good-night to everyone else, she went back outside, talking to her radio as soon as the door closed behind her.
With a sigh of pure relief I collapsed back down on the floor and spat out the cup. It bounced once and rolled across the floor, displaying what appeared to be a cartoon dog's nose on the bottom. I boggled at it. I had suspected some sort of rune or minor spell, but that just didn't make any sense. The cup didn't even shimmer. I wanted to ask how, but the heavy thud of Jowls hitting the floor interrupted the thought.
"Oh, you are
fabulous
! Thomas, right? I had heard Sabrina had collared a cougar, but my word, I never thought you'd grace my shop."
I blinked and then sighed with annoyance. "Yes, yes, I know. I'm apparently worth my weight in gold, and I should be happy about the fact my thumb took a vacation. I've heard it."
"Ach! Give it time. Magic opens you up to all sorts of possibilities. Both good"—he gestured at my body with a wave of his paw—"and bad." He looked pointedly at Jules, who rolled his eyes. He began to circle me, looking me up and down with his eyes and making me uncomfortable. He was remarkably light on his feet despite the waddle and held his tail up high. I got his scent, something that I could only described as boisterous. It had an essence of musk, but that was only the very first layer; beyond that, it was
him
.