“Don’t leave the house, Rae,” I whispered firmly. “Whatever you see — whatever you hear — don’t you dare leave this house.” Her breathing was quickening, fear rising as she realized I was going to leave. It made me want to grip her tighter, keep her closer, drag her along with me —
But she was safer here.
There was a rustle, a rapid snapping of twigs — and the cat was snatched from the porch.
In the same moment Cheesecake disappeared, Leon did too. One moment, his arms were wrapped around me tight; safe, warm, possessive, a barrier against the night. A barrier against the thing that lurked outside, that made my hair stand on end and twisted my stomach.
Then, in a blink, he was gone.
The door slammed shut. I was alone, and the night was utterly, deathly silent other than the sobs that choked up in my throat.
Not Cheesecake. Not my sweet chubby kitty. No. No, no, no.
Leon had told me to stay inside, but there was no threat outside that door that was going to keep me from going after my cat. The mama bear came out and regardless of self-preservation or even regular old common sense, I wasn’t just going to stand there. I wasn’t about to abandon Cheesecake to those things. No way in hell.
I kept a baseball bat near the front door, and it was the only thing I grabbed before I flung the door open and sprinted off the porch. My mind was racing with confusion and fury, I was flushed with adrenaline and yet the world seemed to move slowly around me. I kept expecting to hear the awful cries of my cat fighting for his life, but the night was so silent. So cold. My tears felt icy on my cheeks.
I stalked toward the trees near the side of the porch, closest to where Cheesecake was snatched. I held the bat up, at the ready. I’d seen Leon crush the skull of that Eld beast thing. I knew they could be killed. If I bashed its head hard enough, I’d get my cat back.
I took a step into the trees. Then another. Another. My shoes crunched on pine needles and fallen twigs. It was impossible to move silently. I was an easy target. I couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of me, and even then, everything was just dark shapes against a darker background. The vile smell of death was strong, stinging my nose and turning my stomach.
“Cheesecake?” I whispered. “Here, kitty...kitty, kitty…” My voice shook. My terror was rising. I felt like I was walking through a nightmare.
Snap. I whirled to my left. That footstep hadn’t been mine. I tightened my sweating hands on the bat, arms trembling, ready to strike. I suddenly felt so weak, as if no matter how hard I tried, the strength would go out of my arms the moment I swung. But I had to try. I had to.
Meow?
For a moment, I thought my heart would burst. Hearing Cheesecake’s uncertain little call in the darkness — alive, not in pain — made me run toward the sound. But I halted abruptly when I noticed a dark figure leaning against a tree, my cat cradled in his arms.
Leon.
It was almost too dark to see, but as he held out my wide-eyed, disheveled kitty, I was certain I could see something dark marring his shoulder, and running in rivulets down his arm.
I grasped Cheesecake close, gasping with relief. Leon was breathing raggedly. There was a distinct scent of iron in the air.
“Goddamn it, woman,” he hissed. “I told you — I told you — to stay inside.”
I gulped, beginning to back away toward the house. There was another sound in the darkness, beyond Leon, something like a low, growling purr.
“Get back inside. Don’t you dare come out until sunrise.” Leon pushed off the tree, his golden eyes bright even in the dark. “Cinnamon, rosemary, and sage if you have it. Burn it outside your door. Keep your windows covered and your lights on – they hate the light. Don’t make yourself an easy target.”
I nodded rapidly. With my cat clutched tightly in one arm and my bat in the other hand, I sprinted back for the house. I rummaged through my spice cabinet, tossing jars of herbs across my countertop until I managed to find rosemary and powdered cinnamon. With shaking hands, I poured them both into a stone