Time Masters Book One; The Call (An Urban Fantasy, Time Travel Romance) (11 page)

Both women sighed as they pulled up in front of Kitty’s house. Shona from relief; she could always count on Kitty to make her feel better. Maggie out of dread; Kitty annoyed her the same way she annoyed everyone else except Shona.

“What are you doing?” Shona asked as Maggie began to dig through the glove compartment of the car.

Maggie pulled a small green bottle out and clutched it as if her life depended on its conte
nts. She shook it and relief fl
ooded her face. “We’re here to get Kitty-kat, aren’t we?”

“Yes.” Shona said, puzzled, then comprehension dawned. “Oh, mother! She’s not
that
bad.”

Maggie fought desperately with the lid on the aspirin bottle. “Easy
for you to say. She doesn’t aff
ect you as quickly as the rest of us. Face it, kid. I’m not made of steel like you. I’ve got to prepare myself.” She popped the lid and let two pills fall into her hand. “You get Kitty-kat. I’ll be putting my armor on.” She tossed the aspirin into her mouth and swallowed hard, grimacing as she did.

Shona shook her head as she got out of her parent’s Jaguar, careful not to let the car door hit the curb. The car was brand new. Kitty was going to love this.

She headed up the front walk to the door of the huge three-story house, sighing again as she went. Sh
ona loved the Morgan’s home. Th
e big old
house had a feeling of security about it. Not that Shona lacked the same in her own h
ome. But the Morgan’s felt diff
erent, more lived in.

She reached the front door and suppres
sed a smile as she heard the fi
rst announcement of her arrival carry through the heavy w
ood. At
least half a dozen diff
erent pitched wails, screeches and meows clamored about on the other side, each battling for position. A growing occurrence of late whenever she came over.

“Get
away from there! Go on! Get away! Kit, get down here!” Shona watched through the door’s leaded glass as Preston Morgan batted and kicked at the feline wall between him and the door. She backed halfway to the porch railing, an odd surge of power coursing through her in anticipation.

The door opened, and Preston almost fell on his face as at least eight Persian cats ran straight for her. Some ran so fast they skidded into the porch railing with a loud thump. One large yellow cat,
a sharp contrast to the Morgan family’s incredible array of show
animals, sauntered to the doorway. He sat and began to wash his face as she greeted what the family had begun to refer to as “his tribe.” He’d all but taken over when he began to hang out around the Morgan home several months ago. He sat calmly, looked at Shona and waited.

“Not all at once, take turns,” she cooed as the multitude of fur and legs pressed in around her, each vying for position, each wanting her to touch them. The horrible racket emitted from the desperate felines was enough to drive anyone insane, but it didn’t bother Shona one bit.
Another one of the many oddities about her
.
 
Freak.

“
Kitty!” Preston yelled up into the stairwell next to him then stepped over the big cat sitting in the doo
rway. “Get, you miserable fl
eabags,” he muttered as he tried to detach several cats from Shona’s leg. He got a nasty scratch from one in the process. “Oh, why you…”

“Do not bother, they wi
ll be done in a minute.
Princess
Penny
shame on you!” Shona scolded the gray that had almos
t taken Preston’s hand off
. Th
e cat
readied herself for a jump.

“Miserable feline,” Preston mumbled as he ducked back into the doorway. “Katrina!”

“I’m coming, already. You don’t have to yell!” Kitty Morgan came bounding down the
stairs, her long black hair fl
ying behind her. Her hazel eyes widened as she quickly took in the scene on the porch. Not to mention the look on her father’s face. Shona watched as Kitty contemplated how best to appease him this time.

“Oh look, Dad,
Princess
Penny
got up into Shona’s arms! She must have lost some weight! She was getting awfully fat, you know.”

Preston glared at his daughter as he cradled his wounded hand, the scratch still hot and burning. “I hope that cat takes a sunbath in the street,” he growled then walked into the house to
dress his newest war wound. Th
e ongoing battle betwee
n
Kitty’s father and the feline masses was never-ending, and as usual, he was naught but a hapless casualty.

“Okay now, break it up.” Kitty pushed herself into the furry melee, setting cats aside as she did. “Have you petted them all yet?” She asked, trying to pry her best white Persian from Shona’s jeans.

“Yes, I think so,” she said as
Princess
P
enny
trie
d to clamber up under her hair.

“Let’s get them inside then we can leave. Geez, I hate it when you come over now. This is beginning to be a real pain. What do you do? Mix tuna with your Wheaties or what? I’ve never seen anyone attract cats the way you
do!” Kitty gave the white a fi
nal pull, its claws ripping down Shona’s tired jeans, growling at its mistress in protest. She threw the cat into the front hall, picked up her other
prize white and stepped to
the door after Shona.

 
The huge yellow cat sitting in th
e doorway looked up at Kitty fi
rst in mute acknowledgement before turning his attention to Shona. “Oh, right, butter me up before the mutiny you
traitor! Why didn’t you just find your way to Shona’s house fi
rst and move in there!” Kitty stepped over the cat, all the while trying to keep her grip on the white show breeder struggling in her arms. She let it go on the staircase and turned to watch the upcoming exchange.

Shona, now free of the rest of the tribe, stood in front of the doorway gazing down at what she referred to as the little Chinaman.
Fat and boney at the same time he was the
oddest looking
c
at Shona or Kitty had ever seen, not to mention the biggest.
He looked up at her intently and grinned, his lower front fangs jutting out over his upper lip,
huge
golden eyes squinted in the most fascinating way.

“Hello, Sinclair,” Shona
said with an added note of aff
ection not allotted the others.
For some strange reason she felt drawn to the incredibly odd looking and obese animal. 

The cat grinned even broader, a horrendously amusing sight to behold, his face looked like a fat, yellow furred Buddha.
“Hello,”
he seemed to be saying. She had never known an animal one could hold an actual conversation with, or rather what seemed like one.

“Touch me.”

  
Shona bent to give his head a friendly pat and he grabbed at her hand begging for more. She squatted down in front of him and began to pet his back, the action making her feel almost as good as it did Sinclair. “You spoiled boy, no wonder you wait to be the last. You know you are going to get the most attention that way.” She looked past him to the other cats huddled together in the hall growling.

“I know.”
S
inclair began to purr.

Shona drew her hand back abruptly, eyes wide. “Oh my.”

“What’s wrong?” Kitty asked.

Shona looked up from Sinclair who sat with an even odder grin on his face, a knowing grin. “N… nothing. We had better go.” She stood quick
ly, eyeing the cat, a slight fl
icker of fear in her eyes. She walked backward into the porch railing and nearly fell over it when her mother’s car gave a loud, impatient honk of its horn.

“Ga
awsh
, Shona! What i
s wrong with you? Too much caff
eine or what?” Kitty looked from Sinclair to a now-terri
fi
ed Shona.

“Sinclair?”
Shona thought to herself in frightened bewilderment.

  
The cat sauntered up to her and put his forepaws on her knees, his big golden eyes seeking her
own frightened green ones. The
other cats looked
about to leap through the front door as one.

“We had better leave,” Shona choked out as she slid along the rail to the porch steps. She turned abruptly and stumbled down the front walk to the car.

Confused, Kitty ran into the house to grab her purse then back out the door after Shona. She stopped and turned to face Sinclair who had planted
himself
on the porch rail. Kitty marched
back
up the walk, plucked him off the rail and placed him inside the front hall with the rest of her animals. “I’d sure like to know what you did to her, cat!” She slammed the door, shutting him inside the house. Sinclair rose up and, paws against the door’s glass, watched as Kitty ran down the wa
lk and let go a gleeful squeal at the sight of the car.
She climb
ed into the back seat
, too excited to notice the dozen or so ne
ighborhood cats running after them
as the women sped off for the day.

Proud
maisie
is in the wood, walking so early
;

Sweet Robin sits on the bush, singing so rarely.

“Tell me, thou bonny bird, when shall I marry ye?”

“When six
braw
gentlemen
kirkward
carry ye.”

“Th
e grey-headed sexton that delves the grave duly.

Th
e glow-worm o’er grave and stone shall light thee steady
;

Th
e
owl from the steeple sing
, ‘welcome, proud lady.’”

Sir Walter Scott

CHAPTER FIVE

Rain beat heavily upon Maggie’s car as it slowly traveled up the hill leading home. The summer storm had come out of nowhere to drench everything and everyone.

Shona sat in the passenger seat, gripping the mall shopping bag in her ha
nds as if it would keep her afl
oat should the water-laden streets threaten to consume the car. She had been soaked running from the mall’s re
ar entrance to
the far end of the parking lot,
having made the mistake of off
ering to get the car
while her mother waited impatiently for Kit
ty to make a purchase.
Now she was paying for her desire to escape the multitudes of Saturday mall goers. She was wet, cold and miserable. Th
e after eff
ects of thinking she actually heard a cat speak to her didn’t help.

Freak
!

And, of course, the emptiness decided it was a good t
ime to make itself known again.
To top it off,
a horrible need for
something
had started to gnaw away at her, making her icy hands tremble. Lord, she needed that
something
.
She
felt as if she were starving, but not for food.
“Oh God, what is happening to
me?”
she thought as Maggie pulled into the driveway.

“Here we are, ladies. Let’s go see what trouble Mr. Whittard has gotten himself into today.” She got out of the car and made a mad dash to open the trunk before getting too soaked. Shona and Kitty listened
as Maggie retrieved her shopping bags then
ran for the front door.

“Need to talk to me?” Kitty whispered in Shona’s ear.

Shona nodded quickly as she got out of the car, bag still clutched in her hands, her feet icy cold
and numb. Kitty had to lead her
stumbling to the front door. Fortunately, Kitty knew
what to do; this was not the fi
rst time she had seen her best friend like this.

“We’ll be upstairs,” Kitty chirped to Maggie whose back was to the girls as they hurried past. Just as well. By now
Sho
na was being supported by Kitty
who steered her toward the stairs that led to Shona’s haven
.

“Bedroom?” Kitty asked as they climbed. She got no response. “Oh my
gaawsh
, Shona!” she began, her voice laced with panic. “Bathroom then? You look about to puke!”

Shona fell against the neares
t door
frame at the top of the stairs, knowing she had probably bruised her left shoulder and not caring; she was too much in need. If only she knew what it was she needed! “Up there,” she whispered, pointing shakil
y to another set of stairs that
led to the music room.