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  My human brain urged me to get looked after properly, maybe even find a vet, but my cat brain wouldn’t permit that. I needed to lick myself, no matter how disgusting the process was.

  The moment my tongue touched the wounds on my leg, my entire body melted. This was something I had control over. Over and over, I ran my tongue across the open sores, hoping like hell that rat hadn’t given me a disease.

  What did rats carry anyway? I froze for a moment before relaxing again. Rats weren’t the ones carrying the Black Death bug. That was fleas, wasn’t it? For the first time in my life, I wished I’d paid better attention to my history classes when we talked about that shit.

  Eventually the sharp pain of the bite wounds all over my body dulled. The only areas left to clean were my head and face. Blood had trickled from my ear into my fur. It pulled on the skin every time I moved.

  There was little I could do about it other than run my paw across the area, hoping it would remove some of the dirt. Without a mirror, I had no way of telling how bad the damage was.

  Would I carry the injury back into my human form? What if I’d lost a part of my ear? I shuddered. I needed to be very careful with this body, otherwise I might be disfigured when I finally turned back.

  If I finally turn back. If I don’t die before.

  The thought was unhelpful but I couldn’t shake it. Not when I was hurt, hungry, and lying shivering next to a garbage dumpster, too weak even to check for scraps inside.

  “Is it dead?”

  A shoe pushed into my side. I lifted my head, glaring at two boys who stood over me. One of the children bent down, reaching out towards me. I flinched back, fearing more pain.

  The other kid said, “Nah, it’s in bad shape, though. It’ll probably die soon anyway. Maybe we should put it out of its misery.”

  Nonono, no putting me out of my misery. What the fuck?

  All that came out of my mouth was a broken whimper. I scooted nearer to the metal dumpster behind me, grateful for the solid bulk it provided.

  “Wanna grab a rock, and we can hit it over the head?”

  My eyes widened. What was wrong with these kids? Without giving myself away, I tightened and loosened the muscles in my limbs. My legs hurt, but they worked.

  There would be no killing today, thank you very much.

  “Yeah, look over there. There’s a big one.”

  The boys had both turned away. This was my chance. I coiled, released, and before the kids could react, I was racing through their legs and back into the grassland of the open lot.

  All I heard was a surprised, “Hey!” shouted after me. I didn’t stop running until I could no longer see them. Damn, that had been closed. People were the worst. If I wanted to survive this, I had to be a lot more careful. And I still hadn’t eaten.

  For the rest of the afternoon, I prowled through backyards, hoping to find somebody who’d put food outside their back doors. Wasn’t that what people did? Feed stray cats? Apparently, that didn’t work for large, orange tom-cats like myself.

  My reflection stared back at myself from a patio door, before the house owner shooed me away. Yeah, I was a big, fat cat. The only cat I ever remembered seeing as big as myself was Garfield in one of my dad’s comic books from the eighties.

  Other backyards were guarded by territorial cats or dogs, none of whom were keen on sharing food with me. I tried meowing at the cats, hoping to be able to communicate with them. It was a stupid idea. Cats didn’t speak to each other like humans did. And I didn’t really know how to use my body to communicate any other way.

  By the time I gave up, it was turning dark again. This was the second day without eating. I’d managed to drink a little from a puddle, but not only did it taste disgusting, it didn’t fill the craving for something more solid. I walked and walked until I reached the end of the town. Maybe in the subs people were friendlier and would help me out?

  Turned out, they weren’t. After getting chased by a man with a broom, I gave up for the day. I curled under deep undergrowth in an abandoned house’s backyard. The thorns of vicious blackberry tangles snagged in my smooth fur without hurting me further. But I was in trouble. My strength was waning, and my body felt stiff after the injuries. After another licking session, I fell asleep.

  My stomach hurt so much with hunger, I woke up while it was still dark. Maybe now would be a good time to check back gardens for leftover pet food left outside. The thought of scraps of meat no longer made me nauseous. At this stage, I would have eaten anything.

  Finally, I got lucky. A house I’d walked past every day on my way to school for as long as I could remember. I never paid much attention to it. An old man lived here, although nobody had seen him in years. Apparently there was a son who looked after him.

  When I slunk up to the back door, a fishy smell hit my nose. There was a garbage bag, the top open, leaning against the door jamb. On the very top was an open can of tuna with its metal lid only half cut off and bent back. Underneath the flap, there were still large chunks of fish. I sniffed the fibers of fishy goodness. They smelled amazing, not a bit rotten. The man had probably used the tuna for his dinner only a few hours ago.

  I reared up on my hind legs and pawed at the top of the bag until the can tumbled down. I froze for a moment when the metal rang out as loud as a bell when it hit the concrete. No light came on.

  Before another animal could take my treasure, I lowered my head and carefully licked at the scraps. I didn’t need a cut nose on top of all my other injuries. Long after the tuna was gone, I still licked the metal inside until I’d savored every bit of fish and oil.

  Then I extended my claws and sliced at the trash bag. I found some more leftovers--some rice dish that didn’t smell too bad. A scrap of pork on the turn, but still edible. When a half-eaten apple tumbled down, I gnawed on it.

  My human brain told me to eat the fruit. But my cat teeth couldn’t chew it, only tear bits of the core. It didn’t taste anything like I remembered. Eventually, I spat it out. If it didn’t taste good, chances were my cat stomach wouldn’t be able to digest it. Plus cats were carnivores, weren’t they? So not really made for eating stuff like fruit and vegetables.

  I whirled around when an angry hiss announced the arrival of a fox. I didn’t want a fight, so sprinted away as quickly as my furry legs carried me. It was amazing how a little bit of food helped with my energy. And I wasn’t tired at all anymore. It was time to find the witch who was responsible for my change.

  * * *

  The only clue I had was the alley where I found myself first after my transformation. I entered the narrow dead-end carefully, sniffing and checking for any predators that could harm me.

  Walking around the perimeter, I looked for anything that might help me find the woman. How had I even gotten here? I had no recollection from the time after I was turned to when I woke up as a cat. I knew logically that there was no chance of finding a clue like a business card or a matchbook, or whatever villains always dropped in movies.

  A few minutes later, I trotted out of the alleyway, my head hanging low. There’d been nothing to help me find the witch. Walking down the road, I automatically avoided humans and their stupid dogs. My thoughts were churning.

  What to do now? Was there any point staying around in this area, hoping for a miracle? It wasn’t like I had a choice. I had literally nowhere to go. And maybe, just maybe, there was a reason why I’d been turned, and maybe, just maybe the woman might come back to find me.

  Sure. Right. As if I’d be that lucky.

  I chuckled bitterly. Of course, the sound never traveled to the outside. All it did was quiver my whiskers as I moved along.

  And so it went on for days and weeks. I established my territory. I became a mean, lean fighting machine. My ear was torn up, my face and body battle-hardened with the scars to prove it. Other predators became weary of challenging me as I got better and better at defending myself. Sometimes I worried that my cat’s instinct were taking over completely.
There were days when I went without a single human thought.

  I still kept my eyes open for the black-haired witch, but one day I realized I hadn’t thought about my old life for many days. That scared the crap out of him. The next morning I decided to focus on finding the woman, even if it took me the rest of my much-shortened cat life. I walked the city in ever-widening circles, holding on to scraps of hope to notice something, anything that might help me.

  * * *

  One afternoon, I walked through an unfamiliar neighborhood. Something tickled my nose until I sneezed. I knew the scent, but couldn’t quite place it. What was it?

  Then I remembered. It reminded me of the municipal pool my mom used to take me to. Ozone. That’s what it smelled like. Pleasant, yet pungent, and irritating to my sensitive cat nose. But the pool was on the other side of town.

  Curious, I followed the unusual scent. Straight ahead was a street lined by trees with restaurants and bars. The whole neighborhood was upmarket residential—nicer than the one I’d grown up in.

  As I watched the humans, the sky darkened as if somebody had turned the sun off in the middle of the day. I cowered deeper against the asphalt, my eyes closed to slits. Every hair on my body stood up, as if a balloon had been rubbed over my fur. Something was coming.

  Expensive cars were parked along both sides of the road. Another one pulled up as I watched. A couple got out and was about to walk into a small restaurant. That’s when all hell broke lose.

  First a fork of fire streaked from above and hit the road next to the parked cars. The ground shook, and the shrill howling of car alarms pushed my ears flat against my skull.

  The woman screamed and ran inside the building. Another lightning bolt hit the awning above the entrance, and burning material rained down on to the man who covered his head with his hands and yelped in pain.

  I slipped under a parked car as fast as I could. My heart was beating like crazy, and my whole body was in a state of panic. I squeezed myself against the front wheel of the car as the world blew up around me.

  White and blue lights sparked off metal and hit trees, as thunderclaps as loud as explosions sounded all around me. I was sure people were screaming, but I couldn’t hear any sounds but the crackling of lightning and the blast as the forks found their targets.

  A pair of jeans-clad legs stopped right next to my hiding place. I was so terrified, I couldn’t even think about moving, never mind running away. Then somebody bent down and looked right at me.

  I was too panicked to react other than shrink back further. That’s when the female stretched out a hand, hovering her fingers in front of me. I looked up, and calm, violet eyes met mine.

  Just like that, I relaxed and followed the draw towards the girl. She never said a word, just grabbed the scruff of my neck and pulled me out from underneath the car.

  The next moment I found myself in her arms, and she ran. The world rushed back into the oasis of calm she’d created around the both of us. Lightning was still flashing, and now I could hear people wailing in fright and pain.

  She held me tighter and ran even faster. Her skin smelled like the lightning, but also like so much more. The sharpness of ozone mixed with a sweet scent I couldn’t identify.

  The motion of her body made me drowsy. I snuggled closer to her soft chest and closed my eyes. And that’s how I met Amber Whitman, the girl who would become the most important person in my life before she killed me.