A Lost Kitten (6 page)

John woke up early the next morning, sleepy and moody. The quilt he used was not enough to keep him warm, even with the fire going. He swore he felt cold even in his dreams. The chill seemed to be in his bones. John got up from bed and quickly washed his face and body. He dressed in the warmest clothes he had. Fully dressed, he still shivered. He did his best to ignore his discomfort and left the room to explore.

From the castle’s main entrance, John noticed that a lot of small homes and businesses were built within the stone wall. Yet not many people lived in the area. So who ran the businesses? And why was he the only one shivering? The few people he saw did not seem affected by the cold. He made a note to put on two layers of clothes tomorrow.

John climbed one side of the wall and looked out into the land beyond. He saw dry, cracked earth with scattered patches of greenery. The mountains in the distance reminded him of home, making him homesick.

He climbed back down and passed each business and home a second time. He came across Dena’s siblings playing outside. Their parents heard a male’s voice and exited the small home to investigate. John greeted them with a good morning and told them he had met their eldest daughter at the castle. He could tell they were proud of her working at the castle. According to them, not many were allowed to do so.

He bid them farewell and continued with his exploration of the area. The need to know his surroundings was Basic Survival 101. He mentally mapped out the area and tried to commit each new face to memory.

John rubbed his arms in frustration. He did not understand why he felt so cold when it was a beautiful sunny day. At times, the cold would intensify. It was unlike anything he had experienced in the past. He shivered and continued walking.

He passed another two-room house. Like the others, it seemed unoccupied. He looked through a window beside the front door. The interior was clean and tidy. Apparently, he was wrong. Someone did live there. He opted to leave before he was labeled a Peeping Tom.

The sound of children’s laughter drew his attention next door. The towering building looked like an old country church with faded white chipping paint. John noticed there were children playing in the fenced backyard. He climbed the small porch and peeked through a front window. He saw rows of small tables with seats, two large desks at the front, and three large blackboards. It was not a church, but an empty classroom.

John leaned his head on the glass and thought of his family—his younger siblings in particular. He feared for their safety. It was the main reason why he desperately wanted to get back to the Sea-anan Empire. He needed to locate his family. He needed to know they were safe.

Desperate to get out of the cold, John tried the front door. It was open. He entered and closed the door behind him. The fragrance in the room placed a smirk on his face. He made his way down an aisle. The wearer of the perfume must have been there before him. Who was she? What did she look like? Was she as attractive as the scent?

John sat in the seat between the two teachers’ desks. He compared the large room to those in his culture’s past history. He felt like he had stepped back in time. The entire city had an Old World appearance, except for the sectioned-off area outside the walls that was designated for spaceships.

While he sat on the small bench, the coldness that plagued him gradually subsided to a cozy warmness that wrapped around him, as did the pervasive scent of vanilla. The warmness grew as a new sensation gripped him. It felt like someone was combing her fingers through his hair.

John passed his fingers through his short hair. He rubbed his scalp. The sensation continued. He glanced around. There was no one in the classroom. He stared at the clean blackboards. He knew he should feel afraid, but strangely, the invisible fingers had a soothing affect on his tight nerves.

John closed his eyes and deeply inhaled the aura in the room. One by one, his coiled, aching muscles relaxed. Those magical fingers lowered to his shoulders, pressing into his muscles. His head dipped forward while they massaged the tension from his shoulders. John felt the stress leaving him—a first since the attack. He sat there enjoying the massage.

Jasira was beside herself with joy. She could not believe she was able to touch this beautiful man. To be given a mate was more than she had dared to hope for, but here he was. Solid and real. And extremely stressed, by the look on his face.

It was recess. Two teachers were outside with the class of sixty while Jasira remained indoors, preparing for the next lesson. When she had glanced up from her papers, she had been startled to see John’s face by the window, peering into the room. She had watched him enter. She could see the strain on his handsome face. She wished she could speak to him, learn of his problems, ease his suffering. But for now, all she could do was try to ease his tension by massaging his shoulders.

She heard an odd sound. Jasira realized it was coming from John. She smiled. It seemed he enjoyed her touch. She leaned her hips against his back and placed more force behind her hands. The sound coming from John intensified.

He could not help himself. The purr escaped him. The feeling was enjoyable. There was a slight pressure and increased heat against his spine. It felt like a body. John again glanced behind him. No one was there.
Weird
, he thought.

Since the classroom was the only place he could find that was warm, he decided to stay for a while. Taking a deep breath, John placed his arms on the desk. He lowered his head onto his forearms.

The pressure on his spine indeed felt like a body—a woman’s body. His purrs deepened. His thoughts drifted off to another place, a more pleasant place. A place where there was no war, only a beautiful woman massaging him.

Strong fingers traveled along his spine. John clenched his jaw and curved his back slightly, hoping to press her more firmly to him. If it were not for how soothed and relaxed he felt, he would think the classroom was haunted.

Ten stress-free minutes passed before his mind considered the possibility more seriously. His slow-paced heart picked up speed. His closed eyes opened. He stared at the wooden desk beneath his arms. He focused his senses on the pleasurable feelings. It definitely felt like a small body was pressed against his back while small, strong hands rubbed and molded his shoulders and upper back. It felt real. Very,
very
real.

John jumped from his seat, knocking the bench over. It dropped onto its side, going through Jasira’s legs. He whirled around, thinking there was actually someone behind him. He saw no one, only a large empty classroom. He scanned the room while he tried to calm his racing heart. It dawned on him that the massage had stopped. Something was not right.

Jasira looked at John with sadness. If only he could see her, then perhaps she would not have to see the fear in his eyes, placed there by her need to soothe him. Unexpectedly, John moved through her and hurried to the front doors.

Jasira watched her kindred soul exit her classroom without opening the door. She released a soft cry. She raced to the front doors, through them, and paused in the middle of the dirt road. She spotted John rushing toward the castle. How did he go through a solid door? He was not mist. She knew he was special, but this went beyond anything she had expected.

Jasira wanted to go after him. She understood why John ran off. She did not blame him. If their situations were reversed, she would have done the same. If only she could speak to him, she would explain everything. Unfortunately, she could not. The only thing she could do was be more careful. She did not want to scare him away permanently. However, what she saw him do demanded answers. She knew of only one person who could uncover them. Herself.

John slowed his pace. That familiar cold erased all traces of the warmth he had found at the school. He peeked over his shoulder at the white building. There was definitely something odd with that place.

He bumped into something solid. “Bogdan, I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay. Are you all right?”

“Actually…” John said, looking at the school, “can you tell me if there’s something I ought to know about that school?”

Bogdan regarded the school from where they stood. “Like what?”

“Like if a ghost resides there.”

“A ghost?”

Bogdan suddenly looked guilty. “Yeah.” John noticed the slight anxious movements he made from side to side.

“Why would you ask that?”

“Because it’s an old building. A lot of old buildings have history and lingering specters. I wondered if this one has both.”

“Well…that bilding has stood there for centuries as our houz of worship. And it
is
very special. It miraculously survived the war unscathed. That’s why the king converted it into a skool—a blessed haven for our youngsters to learn in. So it does have history.” Bogdan shook his head. “But no ghosts.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Where are you off to?”

John detected Bogdan was eager to change the subject. Could he be lying about the ghost? “Back to my room.” He rubbed his arms. “I’m freezing. Is Surreal normally this cold?”

“I wish there was a chill in the air.” Bogdan tugged on his collar. “It’s stifling hot today.”

John saw the beads of sweat pouring down Bogdan’s face. It made him pause before his next words. “Um…when are we leaving?”

“I have to take several packages to neighboring vilijez, which means several days of travel on horseback. When I return, we can prepare to leave. I have to go, John. I will talk to you later.”

“Bye.” John watched him hurry off.

Bogdan’s manner told John more than his words did. He was hiding something. What was it? The delay in departure had John on edge. Bogdan’s hollow excuses told him something was amiss. Plus, the stares Bogdan and King Yudit kept sending his way were suspicious. John no longer trusted them.

By next morning, John began to think that perhaps he had imagined what happened at the schoolhouse. However, King Yudit’s and Bogdan’s odd behaviors continued. During dinner that Thursday, they stared at him yet again. John grew uncomfortable. Frustrated with what was happening, he left his dinner unfinished. That infamous McCall temper was steadily rising in him.

He found one of the housekeepers in the corridor wiping down a table and a vase. John’s anger spurred his decision to give up the pretense that a hand towel wash was enough. It might work for Surrealans or for people in the olden days, but John needed to submerge his body in water if he was to keep his strength up. Plus, towel washing did not leave him feeling cleansed. Felines liked to keep themselves well-groomed.

He asked the middle-aged woman where he could take a shower. The maid confirmed that the citizens of Surreal took baths on a biweekly basis, and that John should have a washcloth and a basin in his room. John politely insisted that a hot bath be brought to his room. The woman promised to have a tub sent to his room as soon as the water was heated. John thanked her and left.

Dena arrived with five men. The men placed the copper tub they carried in front of the fireplace, then left. John stood beside the only window in the room. He watched Dena pour several buckets of steaming water into the tub. He found her attractive; her movements were graceful like a cat. The scent of lilac reached his nose. He looked at the bucket she placed by his bed. Perhaps it could be one of the products she carried.

“Would you like me to scrub your back?”

John covered his surprise with a cough. “What did you say?”

“Would you like for me to scrub your back?”

With a side grin, he asked, “Do you normally do such things?”

“Yes.”

That erased his smile. John immediately pictured Dena bathing other men. He wondered how many of those men she had slept with. Perhaps Dena knew a trick or two she could teach him. That placed a larger smile back on his face.

“Thanks,” John said, “but there’s no need.” He read the disappointment on her face. He knew what would make her happy. “Would you like to have lunch with me on your day off?”

“I’m off Tuesdays and Wednesdays,” Dena happily told him.

“Then next Tuesday it is.” He escorted her to the door and watched her hurry down the corridor. There was a spring to her step.

John closed the door and made sure it was securely locked. He returned to the bed to remove his soiled clothes. He eagerly lowered into the hot water. A familiar wave of pure heat raced through his body as a membrane of skin developed between each of his fingers and toes. His senses grew sharper. He detected distant voices and smells inside and outside the castle. He kept his eyes closed, for his sharper vision was more suited for seeing underwater.

John found it a bit difficult to breathe, so he leaned back against the tub and slipped his head underneath the steaming water. He remained there, inhaling deep, allowing the water’s heat to seep into his bones. It succeeded in erasing the chill that resided there. A chill that even the blaze from the fireplace could not eradicate. It felt wonderful to be in his amphibian form. He felt stronger, healthier, and more at ease being in his second skin.

He wondered how Dena would react if he allowed her to see him transform. Undoubtedly, she would act like many before her who had never come across a McCall. She would have freaked out and viewed him as a monster. John sat up. He reached for the soap and began to wash.

Finished with his bath, John quickly patted his body dry and leapt under the covers. He lay on his back. Sleep eluded him, thanks to his worries on the war and the cold. He forced all thoughts from his mind, hoping that would allow him to fall asleep.

He noticed an increase in the room’s temperature. At last, the fire was heating up the room. He detected the hint of vanilla in the air. He was determined to find the source tomorrow.

John knew when he was thoroughly dried, for he felt his body return to normal. It became uncomfortably hot under the heavy quilt. He lowered the blanket to his hips. He deeply inhaled the delicious fragrance in the air and allowed it to wash over him, relaxing him further.