of its purpose with the silhouette of a dog. I wasn’t sure how I had missed it before that day, since it was right next to a Chinese restaurant where I regularly grabbed takeout.
Instead of dwelling on my lack of attention, I pulled out my phone and looked them up online. They didn’t have a website, but their number was right there . . .
But I needed to contact the registration office first, didn’t I? I wasn’t going to go to a pet store and buy foxy a bunch of stuff if he was going to be gone in a few hours. It wasn’t like doing the western inventory had been an attempt to put off the inevitable. I took a deep breath, closed the internet app, and opened a new search for the local familiar registration office phone number.
Foxy whined and pressed against my leg, so I scratched his ear and considered putting it off till tomorrow. But I couldn’t be selfish and do what I wanted. I needed to do the right thing, even if it did make my chest tight and breath thin.
“I know, buddy. It’s gonna be okay. We’ll find your mage.”
He huffed at me and leaned harder, the extra weight almost knocking me down because I was distracted by someone picking up the other end of the line. “Familiar Registration, how can I help you this morning?”
“I, um, I found a familiar.” The words stuck in my throat, almost refusing to come out. As soon as she knew I had foxy, someone was going to want him. They were going to take him away.
“Wonderful,” she said, unexpected warmth in her voice. “We don’t require appointments, so you just need to come down and fill out a little paperwork, and—”
“Oh, oh no, I mean I found someone else’s familiar. He’s . . . lost?”
That seemed to stump her. “You found . . . Just a moment, let me check something.”
A loud, tinny instrumental version of The Girl from Ipanema started playing on the line, and foxy reared back, staring at the phone as though it had wronged him. Which was fair, really. Hold music was an abomination.
About the time I realized she hadn’t even asked what kind of familiar foxy was, she came back on the line. “We haven’t had any reported abductions or losses, young man. I assure you, if you’ve found a familiar, it’s entirely yours. You just have to come down, fill out the paperwork, and pay the three-hundred-dollar licensing fee.”
I cringed. I’d remembered the fee being high, but that was as much as I paid monthly for all my utilities combined.
But wait, forget that. No one was looking for foxy. I grinned down at him and scratched his ears. “Thank you, ma’am. I’ll be sure and do that as soon as I can.”
“You’ll need someone over eighteen to sign off,” she told me, “so make sure to bring your mom or dad.”
“Um, right. Yeah.” I hung up the phone and looked at foxy. “Okay, I know I don’t have a deep voice, but I don’t sound twelve, do I?”
Foxy gave a little whuff, like he was laughing at me.
I needed to go over to the pet store after all, I realized. I’d have to get a bowl, and food, and . . . well hell, what did I need to take care of a fox?
The bell over the door chimed, so I didn’t have time to go back to researching. Probably not a great idea to research it where Dad could catch me, anyway. He’d never let me hear the end of it, slacking off when I should be working.
As though he’d heard me thinking about it, he was glaring at me when I came out of the stacks, eyes narrowed and lips pursed. I pretended to ignore him.
“You look great,” my best friend announced as she pulled herself up to sit on the counter. She was five foot three, so it was an impressive feat. As always, she left her shoes sitting behind on the floor. Her pin-straight black hair was getting a little shaggy, not quite in the usual pixie cut her mother so despised. “I did not expect you to look like a million bucks the day after the funeral, even if your dad was a dick.”
It was impossible to hide my smile at that, but I ducked my head and tried. Beez would have said the same even if she’d known my father’s ghost was standing three feet