Chapter 15: Orin

Why did it all have to come crashing down? And it did, just when I thought I could really have everything I never even knew I wanted.

I'm getting ahead of myself.

Thaddea first met Orin the night we arrived from London. Tall, lanky, but likely to fill out like her own father, Archie, Orin Kinsey was visiting from a small coven, the Lancasters, from the next county. And the moment he laid eyes on my Thad, I knew he was trouble.

Still, Thad hadn't succumbed to any of the handsome lads in London, so I had no reason to believe my young witch would be any different. As a matter of fact, she'd scorned any and all advances from noblemen and witches alike. So when the slightly flustered young man approached us after the welcome home meal was complete, I sat back and waited for Thad to grind him under her very attractive boot with her crystal clear voice and the kind way she had that left boys wishing she was theirs even as she laughed at them behind her hands.

Imagine my utter shock when, as Orin bowed to her and introduced himself, Thaddea, my Thaddea, blushed and batted her eyelashes. At that giant lump of nothing who swallowed hard and smiled back.

He even dragged her up to dance a turn or two when someone brought out a guitar, a pipe, two violins. From the secret smile on Sydlynn's face, this was some kind of diabolical plot, though I adored Thad's mother already.

My love sank to her chair at last, out of breath, strands of her auburn hair clinging to her neck, slick with sweat. She smiled at me, breathtaking, the most beautiful smile I'd ever seen.

I'd only found her and I'd lost her already.

To him, that lunk, though I admittedly had her to myself most of the time. When the guests left and the family settled in for the night, home to the Tremeres as well as the Hayles it turned out, Thaddea lay staring at the ceiling for a long time.

"He's so handsome," she whispered to me.

"I daresay not," I sniffed. "Did you see his nose? Shocking how big they grow them here."

She giggled and swatted me. "Sassafras," she said. "I'm being serious."

If only she knew how serious.

Several days passed, the memory of Orin fading from both of our thoughts, though I still caught Thad sighing over a moment of quiet or two. Still, family life was busy and full of happy noise and I found I fit in much more quickly than I ever expected.

It amazed me how the family made room for me, ensuring my place at the table, a private lavatory designed for my particular shape, the choicest delights challenging my cat palate until I could dare say I no longer missed Demonicon. Only my form, always my demon body, and no more so than the afternoon, one week later, when Orin Kinsey arrived at the front door.

I heard Thad squeal as she barged into her room, interrupting my nap, diving for this and that, a brush to smooth her hair, discarding a pair of gloves in favor of another only to shake her head and giggle.

"Whatever has gotten into you?" I stretched and repositioned myself to continue my rest.

"Orin," she gushed, throwing herself on the bed to bury her face in my fur. "He's here to take me riding."

I didn't get to respond. Sydlynn called Thad's name from the bottom of the stairs and she left in a rush, leaving me behind.

She said she never would.

Hurt drove daggers of disappointment into my chest, choking me. My tail made a perfect veil, covering the tears leaking from my eyes as I listened to the front door slam and the happy chatter of the love of my life as she clip-clopped away with him.

The enemy.

My weeping ended, I perched on the windowsill, making plans. I could kill him, somehow. Drop something in his head? Too drastic. Drive him away, then. A bit of demon magic under the hooves of his horse? Thad would find out. And never forgive me.

There had to be a way.

And yet, when the pair rode into the yard, Orin swinging from his horse quickly to help Thad from hers, I knew all was lost. The way she looked at him, how they held hands as they approached the front door, told me what I needed to know, even though I didn't want to believe it.

I rushed to the top of the stairs and glared down at them as Sydlynn and Archie welcomed the young pair back from their ride. Thad looked up, waved at me, beckoned me closer, but I couldn't. Not with him standing there, an arm around her waist, tall and strong and everything I could never be for her.

I ran to her room and hid under the bed. How pathetic, this now-familiar hiding place of mine. Her footsteps approached lightly, lovely voice calling my name. It only took her a moment to kneel and peel back the blanket, to sigh and fix me with a sad expression.

"Oh, Sass," she said. "What's the matter?"

"Leave me alone." I turned away from her, ears drooping, wishing I could be stronger. She'd stripped my real power from me, the part that could stand against anyone and anything. How dare she make me weak with love and such useless things?

"I will do no such thing." Her magic pulled me out from under the bed though I dug in my claws and fought her. She held me tight even as I struggled, until I had to stop, panting and out of energy. "You're being silly, you know. Just tell me so I can fix what I've done."

I slumped into her lap. "It's not you," I said. "It's him."

"Who, him?" She bit her lower lip. "Orin?"

"You've just met him." I caught her gaze at last. "But you love him, I can feel it."

"It happens between witches sometimes," she said, soft and sad as she stroked my cheek. "Destiny, Sass. No witch can fight it, though we may try." She hugged me to her, lips on my ear. "Yes, I love him," she said. "And if he asks, I'll marry him, too. That's just the way things are."

"You're only eighteen." From someone of my age, she seemed just barely a baby yet.

"Mother was pregnant with me by this time, happily married to Father," she said.

I pulled away from her and slunk back into the dark. "Go then," I snapped. "Leave me after all."

I heard her sigh, the tap of her toe. The sound of a male voice calling her name. Would she stay with me after all? But no, that was too much to hope for.

"We'll talk about this later," she said. "Now come down to dinner and at least speak to Orin, would you?" Her feet retreated, and I was alone.

I couldn't bear it, too much, so fast. Three hundred years I'd lived without a heart. Why did Ahbi have to choose a creature that had one? The far window gaped open, a breeze blowing across the sill, ruffling the curtain. Before I could stop myself, heart breaking all over again, I slid out into the gathering dark and away from the house.

This place was far different from London, though I was certain death could come as quickly, if from other sources. The family magic protected the local livestock from predators, however, so I had no fear of wolves or bears or even large hunting cats.

I paused just inside the tree line, still in view of the house, gazing back with aching longing dragging at my soul. I had to leave, before I lost more of myself to she who didn't love me anymore. But I couldn't bear to leave her behind.

The next property offered a solution. Though two of their large barns were occupied with cows and pigs, the third was used only for storage. I promised myself I'd sleep the night there, only one, and find my way elsewhere in the morning. Perhaps to New York, to the docks and back to London. I was certain the Brindles would accept me. But it was so far to go and I didn't know if I could make it alone.

There were other witch families here in America, Orin and his tiny coven were proof of that. So I would find one of them and make myself useful somehow and learn to forget Thaddea Hayle.

The loft beckoned and I accepted, lulled to sleep in a pile of fragrant hay to the sound of the wind creaking the old building around me.

I didn't move on the next morning. Nor the next. It was simple enough to steal some cheese and cream from the farmer's wife, and I even learned to fish in the stream behind the barn after a startling dunking when I slipped from a wet rock. But success was mine, along with soaked fur, my first catch still wriggling as I began my meal. So I could fend for myself, after all.

Every time I tried to leave, my heart talked me out of it. After all, she hadn't married him yet. Perhaps she'd come to her senses? But I refused to come out, even when I heard her calling my name, watched her and Lillian riding through the field next, tears on Thaddea's face as she cried out for me.

Good. Let her suffer. She'd destroyed the heart she'd built in me. It was only fair.

It was simple to mask the bit of magic I held, to hide it among the family magic of the farmer and his wife, coven members. If weak enough, I could avoid discovery. The perfect hiding place.

They all sought me, at one time or another, and I was oddly touched when even Olive Tremere tried to find me. Kind of them, really. But I didn't need or want their pity.

I only wanted Thaddea.

Their wedding was the first crisp day of fall. I crouched on a spruce limb and watched, tears falling, as my love married Orin in the back yard of the family house while everyone cheered. But me.

It was really over. I'd held out hope she'd change her mind, be mine again. But the white dress, the eager kiss sealing their union, the happy laughter of the family well into dark as they retreated inside to finish the celebration when it became too cold, all of this told me I'd outstayed my welcome.

Shivering, miserable, I didn't leave the tree all night.

Why then did I remain? How tragic, how utterly pathetic, my life. The winter was bitter, deep snow forcing me to hide inside and survive on field mice with the same notion. No more fishing in a pond now frozen, though my magic was enough to keep me from dying of exposure. And once I figured out how to make a nest of hay, lining it with left-over burlap and stolen sheep's wool, I was actually quite cozy.

If rough around the edges. It took forever to get the hang of pulling mats out of my fur with only my four paws and teeth. The dust from the hay turned my coat from shining silver to a dull, gunmetal gray, the perfect color for hiding and hunting, something at which I became quite adept. No pigeon was safe from my claws, nor chewing rat from my savage teeth. I'd learned my lesson in London and made sure to avoid the gnashing rodent fangs.

And though I was in their territory, the local barn cats didn't bother me. Well-fed and content themselves, they didn't even protest when I stole their food, though a time or to I was forced to face the lead tom down if only in a staring match.

Winter finally turned to spring, the cold releasing its hold on the world. I'd never experienced winter and was happy to see it go. I woke one morning to find a tiny face peeking at me in my hiding place, a second, a third. And though I growled at the playful kittens who'd discovered me, they ignored my warnings and quickly made pests of themselves.

I was about to kick the lot of them out when they yawned and settled against me, falling into sleep, warm striped bodies soft and scented with innocence. Movement at the entrance to my nest drew my eyes, the mother cat, a lovely fawn tabby, watching me carefully, though she didn't try to approach.

"Your babies are lovely," I said, in a voice long gone to gravel from misuse. Her expressive ears twitched, head tilting to the side. "I won't hurt you." Not that I encouraged her to come near. I wanted to be alone in my grief, didn't I?

Didn't I?

One of the kittens, a dark boy with white paws and chin, yawned and opened his eyes, fixing his gaze on me. He batted gently at my whiskers a moment before standing, stretching. His siblings soon followed, their kitten nap complete, as they bounded their way out of my hiding place and past their mother. She didn't follow them right away, eyes still locked on me before she spun and chased them, long tail waving like a flag.

I made my way out into the open loft, heart still aching, but the pain fading. I didn't know it was possible, and yet, here I was. Spring, time passed, and I felt better. Though I still loved Thad and missed her desperately, I knew I'd be all right no matter what.

A gift. That grew as the months passed, as the kittens aged and were taken from their mother, to be found homes of their own while she pined for them as I pined for Thaddea once.

How terrible this thing, love. Yes, I was healing. But I would never, ever give my heart again.

I was done with love.

In the moment she reached for me, her pain cutting through me as though I felt what she felt, I knew I had no choice. I streaked across the field, heading for the house, feeling Thad dying, agony ripping her body in two as she clung to me and I to her.

Thad, I sent, desperate to reach her, to save her. Hang on. I'm coming.

***