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  No Kitten Around

  A Magical Romantic Comedy (with a body count)

  RJ Blain

  No Kitten Around

  A Magical Romantic Comedy (with a body count)

  RJ Blain

  Warning: This novel contains excessive humor, action, excitement, adventure, magic, romance, and bodies. Proceed with caution.

  The last thing Reed Matthews needs in his life is a kitten, but when an orphaned tabby suckers him into becoming her caretaker, he’s in for the ride of his life. Add in an angel determined to meddle in his affairs, a devil with an agenda, and a bucketful of bad omens, and he’ll count himself fortunate if he survives the clash between heaven, hell, and his ex.

  In this anything goes romp, there’s no kitten around: if Reed wants to survive and regain control of his life, his only hope lies in the hands of an elf and his ex, a woman he’s sworn to never see again.

  Copyright © 2018 by RJ Blain

  Cover Design by Rebecca Frank (Bewitching Book Covers)

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  About the Author

  Magical Romantic Comedies (with a body count)

  From Witch & Wolf World

  Other Stories by RJ Blain

  Witch & Wolf World Reading Order

  Chapter One

  Had I been a wiser man, I would’ve just gone home after work instead of greeting the weekend in a bar. Had I been a better man, I wouldn’t have played the game, looking women in the eyes until I found one shallower than the average mud puddle. Had I been someone worth taking home, I wouldn’t have introduced myself to the blonde, a woman who’d never be pretty in the conventional sense. I had what she wanted, however. Her heart desired pleasure without permanency.

  That I could do.

  A twenty bought us drinks and her an opportunity to take me home with her. A few hours in her bed offered me what most couldn’t, a chance to look another person in the eyes without their heart’s deepest desire coming between us. Her contentment made it worth my while—almost.

  I didn’t know the woman’s name, nor did I care to learn it. In the light of a false dawn, as soon as I was certain she slept, I crept out of her bed. As I always did when I stole away like a thief in the night, albeit an invited one, I tucked her in, kissed her cheek, and hoped she’d one day find something to give her heart more life, more spark, and the happiness she’d never find flitting from man to man because she feared the pain of failed commitment.

  That, too, I had glimpsed when I’d first looked into her eyes. It rarely came across so clear; desires showed through the strongest for me. Locked deep in her heart, hidden behind a shield of pleasure, her fears festered. I wondered if she’d find someone who could heal that wound.

  I wasn’t that someone. I had too many wounds of my own eating away at me from the inside and always would.

  It took me almost an hour to walk back to the bar where I’d left my car, my hands shoved in my pockets, the image of a businessman who’d escaped the hardships of an office job like so many others. I’d left my hair disheveled on purpose to feed the impression I’d spent all my time drinking rather than pretending I enjoyed my night with a woman I could never love.

  Everything went right to plan, up until I reached my car to discover a tiny tabby kitten had taken up residence on the hood. I supposed it had jumped from the low wall onto my vehicle, an old family car I’d bought from a destitute single mother because her heart had desired some way to provide for the children who’d never know their father.

  I had paid twice as much as I should have for the piece of shit because she needed the money, spent a small fortune repairing it, giving it a paint job, and pretending I liked the damned thing.

  The kitten stared me in the eyes and challenged me with a pleading meow.

  Crossing my fingers, I took a defensive stance against the evils such a thing would bring into my life. I could barely take care of myself, the emotional equivalent of a train wreck.

  A kitten was out of the question.

  The kitten hadn’t gotten the memo I wasn’t interested in or prepared to take it home with me. It mewed at me again, its cry more insistent. I didn’t need my sight, cursed magic that it was, to tell me what the little beast wanted. It wanted milk.

  Then it wanted to destroy the world, for that was what cats did when they weren’t sleeping. They plotted to take over the world before they destroyed it, crushing it in their little paws.

  My cursed eyes didn’t tell me that was the kitten’s heart’s desire; animals didn’t trigger my magic, for which I was grateful. Making assumptions about the tiny animal’s intentions put me firmly in the ‘monster’ category, but I didn’t care. Something that small and fluffy had to be the purest of evils, plotting the demise of anyone who crossed its path.

  It’d probably settle for enslaving me and forcing me to do its bidding if I gave it even half a chance.

  The kitten rolled onto its back and stretched out its paws, its little eyes wide open, staring at me, imploring me, ignoring my ward, and mewling all the while. The evil little shit saw my weakness and latched on, securing its victory with its pleading cries. I scooped it up, and it barely fit in my hand, which proved the fatal blow.

  I couldn’t just leave the damned thing to starve.

  Cursing myself, I unlocked my car and slid behind the wheel, wondering what I would do with a kitten. As though sensing it had subdued me and made me its bitch, it quieted, further entrenching itself by nuzzling my hand, mouthing at me in search of the milk I couldn’t give it—not yet, at least.

  Where the hell was I going to find milk suitable for a kitten? Setting the hell spawn on the passenger seat, I dug my phone out of my jacket and searched for a local vet. I found the number of an emergency clinic, sighing before giving them a call.

  “ACC, Felicia speaking. How may I help you?”

  “I found a young kitten. Any chance I can bring it in for an exam? It was alone.”

  “The mother is probably nearby,” Felicia replied. “Have you checked for her or any other kittens?”

  I took a long, careful look around. The bar skirted an industrial zone, and given an hour, the street would become a death trap for the tiny animal. “I found it in the parking lot near a bunch of warehouses and factories near a busy street. Haven’t seen any sign of a mother cat. It’s crying and seems hungry.”

  “Any parks?”

  “Only the concrete variety,” I muttered. “Can I bring it in or not?”

  “It’s a hundred and fifty dollars for the vet to see the animal.”

  Great. Not only was my newfound kitten out to destroy the world, it was out to murder my wallet, too. I could afford a hundred and fifty for the exam, but I wouldn’t like paying for a kitten I didn’t want to keep in the first place. �
��All right. That’s not a problem.”

  The woman gave me directions to the clinic, which would add an extra thirty minutes to my drive home. I glared at the animal. Once certain I’d disconnected the call, I waggled my finger at the feline. “You are an asshole.”

  The kitten slept, everything right in its furry little world.

  I was the only person in the emergency vet clinic, a mercy all things considered. Felicity proved to be the receptionist, and she regarded the kitten cradled in the crook of my arm with an arched brow while I was careful to avoid meeting her gaze. The little shit had started trying to eat my suit the instant I’d picked it up. It had ignored my efforts to convince it suckling on my jacket would do it no good.

  “That is a rather young kitten,” the woman conceded, reaching over to a stack of papers to grab a few sheets. “I will need to make a file for you, sir. What is the kitten’s name?”

  All naming it would do was make it harder to let the damned thing go, and judging from the woman’s smirk, she knew it. Maybe if I gave it an awful name, it’d rethink its decision to force me into adopting it until I could find a better home for it. “Kitten, Destroyer of Worlds.” There. No one could be mistaken about what I thought about felines and their innate desire to rule—or wreck—the world. “Give it the last name of Overlord, if this is that sort of place. I’m pretty sure it’s going to stage a takeover very soon.”

  She snorted her laughter. “You’re not a cat person, are you, sir?”

  “It had somehow gotten onto the hood of my car.” I set the kitten on the desk. “I couldn’t just leave it there.”

  The kitten tried to suckle from one of my knuckles. I upgraded its lethality rating to a prime evil, possibly on par with the devil himself. Kitten, Destroyer of Worlds had sharp, pointy teeth, and I smiled so I wouldn’t grimace.

  “Your name, sir?”

  “Reed Matthews.”

  “Address?”

  I gave her the PO Box I used in lieu of my residence, since no one believed I lived in an abandoned town an hour outside of civilization. The rare times someone insisted on me giving them the address to an actual building, I directed them to a mobile home I’d picked up a lot like my car, although I didn’t live in it.

  A formerly homeless couple did.

  I paid for what they couldn’t afford. They pretended I lived with them.

  It worked well for all three of us.

  I didn’t miss the five hundred a month it cost me to pay the property taxes, their utilities, and the little things they couldn’t afford even if they wanted to. In exchange, I maintained the privacy I craved, hiding where no one could find me, not without a lot of work. They had a place to stay, since neither ever managed to make more than minimum wage. Instead of rent, they paid for school.

  They couldn’t do both.

  Damn it, I truly was a sucker. I really needed to stop looking people in the eyes. It was always the ones who wanted something so simple and sincere that got to me. The heart didn’t lie. I’d learned that bitter lesson long ago.

  The Olivers wanted to make a life for themselves, to be independent, and break out of the vicious cycle of poverty that haunted them. They tried so hard and got nowhere fast, and that sort of strain left marks on their hearts, marks I could see and feel whenever I made the mistake of meeting their gaze.

  Week by week, they healed as they got closer to their hearts’ desire.

  It took Felicity ten minutes to open the file while Kitten, Destroyer of Worlds played on her desk, hunting a pen cap on wobbly paws.

  “Dr. Elmond will be with you soon, sir. Please take a seat.”

  The kitten took advantage of the fifteen minute wait to play with my fingers and hook her claws deeper into my soul. What was I supposed to do with a kitten? I was mulling over that all-important question when the vet showed up. The older man offered a smile in greeting, his hands tucked into the pockets of his doctor’s coat. “Good morning, Mr. Matthews. If you’d please come with me, I’ll give your kitten a checkup and examination. I’ve been told you found it abandoned in the industrial quarter?”

  For a city of less than fifty thousand people, Greenwood, Indiana did have a thriving industrial market, part of what made it the ideal place for me to spend my weekends. “Yes. I think it fell from one of the half walls onto my car. I found it on the hood.”

  Taking the kitten from me, Dr. Elmond held it up, making thoughtful noises in his throat while the animal cried its complaints for the world to hear. “All right. Come with me, please.”

  The examination took about thirty minutes, during which I learned I had a six to eight week old kitten weighing in at a big bad two pounds. Despite having named Kitten, Destroyer of Worlds an overlord, I had an overlady, and she was not happy with Dr. Elmond for inflicting several needles on her. She really did not like when he shoved a thermometer up her ass, either, not that I blamed her.

  The vet thought her green eyes were odd, as at her age, they should have been blue, but when he claimed it wouldn’t affect her health, I decided I didn’t care as long as she could see and do whatever it was healthy kittens did.

  With a declaration of good health in hand, I also inherited a bill for three hundred to go with my new kitten, a tiny harness with leash, a stick with feathers attached to a string, a case of wet food, several containers of milk, and a small bag of kibble. That the supplies doubled my bill didn’t surprise me much. I was pretty sure the vet and his receptionist laughed at me the instant I hauled Kitten, Destroyer of Worlds and the foundations of her kingdom to my car.

  To make matters worse, I needed to go to a pet store for even more things, including a proper cat carrier, a litter box, and all the other things a kitten needed to be happy and healthy. They’d given me a long list to point me in the right direction—towards bankruptcy.

  In reality, I wouldn’t really notice the lost money. Most of what I earned ended up stuffed in a savings account, and the rest went to my efforts to convince myself and society I wasn’t nearly as awful of a person as I believed.

  The weight of another man’s death did things like that to a soul, and the two years I’d spent in solitary confinement as punishment hadn’t done a whole lot to rid me of the guilt. If anything, being left alone in silence for so long only made it worse.

  My sight couldn’t hurt anyone, but I’d been treated just like a gorgon or some other monster capable of harming someone with their gaze. Had I been given another chance to redo my life, I would’ve never told anyone what I saw whenever I had the misfortune of looking someone in the eyes.

  Still, my victim had deserved to die, although his death had been accidental enough. If he hadn’t tried to rape a girl, I wouldn’t have gotten involved, and if I hadn’t gotten involved, I wouldn’t have introduced his head to a brick wall getting him off of her. The blow had killed him. I’d meant to stun him long enough his victim could get away.

  After, I couldn’t bring myself to confess the full truth, so I’d lost two years of my life. It should have been five years, but someone had pulled some strings and forced an evaluation of my situation, declaring the punishment hadn’t fit the crime. I’d never learned who. It hadn’t mattered then, and I tried not to think too hard on it now.

  I’d been too busy avoiding people, flinching from their touch, and otherwise doing my best to escape a different sort of prison—one of my own making. I’d lost another six to eight months in an odd sort of rehabilitation, the kind meant to give me a chance at having a life. The instant the judiciary system had let me go, I’d run halfway across the country, put on a suit, and dove headlong into the business world.

  At least there, my cursed eyes were actually good for something. My sight came in handy when my job was to figure out what made people tick so my boss could get the upper hand in negotiations.

  As always, despite my best efforts to turn my thoughts away, my memories fixated on the man I’d killed—and his victims. They had been burdened enough with his crimes and didn’t
need to be judged and socially crucified by a jury of their peers. I’d seen it too many times before. Man and woman alike brought the same tired, disgusting arguments to the table. The young women and girls had suffered enough.

  When I’d looked him in the eyes, I’d seen the desire of his heart, and he loved it best when they screamed beneath him.

  I rested my forehead against my steering wheel while Kitten, Destroyer of Worlds played with her leash, tugging at it in an attempt to free herself from her harness. Several deep breaths later, I forced my thoughts away from the past to my more immediate concerns.

  For the first time in my life, I had a second mouth to feed, one entirely reliant on me, incapable of taking care of herself. That much Dr. Elmond had told me. She needed someone who’d feed her, give her a place to sleep, and take care of her, and while she’d probably be adopted fast enough, she’d spend at least a few days in a cage waiting for a home.

  I’d lost the war at the word cage; I’d been in one for too long myself.

  Kitten, Destroyer of Worlds would not sit in a cage and wait for a chance at a new life. Just like that, I ended up going home with an overlady who would inevitably rule over my life with an iron paw, for that was the nature of cats and the unfortunate men who served them.

  Chapter Two

  By the time it was all said and done, my two pound kitten cost me almost five hundred dollars. I regretted bringing the fluffy, purring little beast into my life about twenty minutes after I brought her home and fed her lunch. At the vet’s recommendation, I’d first fed her before starting the hour and a half long drive home, and she’d done her business outside while on her leash, while I had stood safely upwind of her activities.