Page 60 of Of Socialites and Prizefights

“Made one for you anyway,” she said gruffly, her elbows on her knees. “In case you change your mind.”

Stepping delicately into the space left between Kells and the other mug, Deepa curled up beside her and pressed just near enough to feel her warmth, but not so close as to seem clingy or overly familiar. If cats were capable of tears, she might have cried. From the curse itself to being shot at, her argument with Roz — her day had been terrible, more so than any in recent memory, and the weight came crashing down upon her all at once. The only thing keeping it from flattening her completely was Kelly's silent company and the offer of tea. It might not have seemed like much to an outsider looking in, but for Deepa, it was just the right touch of unassuming maternal support she needed.

“I’m not much for spellwork,” Kells said eventually, holding her tea between both hands, her dressing gown splayed overthe stone step like a mantle of worn terrycloth. “Or anything to do with curses, as the case may be. Like I said, I’m better with potions. Grow most of the ingredients here myself.”

She took a drink. “I’ve a friend who’s a bit of a shapeshifter. Not like you, mind. Subtler. The sort of thing you’d never guess to look at them. I mix them up potions, custom-made, to help them change. So’s to avoid the mess of involving doctors or buying glamours, risking folks finding out, you know. They like their privacy. Their body’s nobody’s business but their own.” Another drink, as she gazed studiously over her garden. “So, I’m good at that manner of thing. Wouldn’t know where to start for turning a cat back into a human, though. I’ve never tested any of my stuff on animals. Don't know how it would work.”

Deepa chirped, a soft and curious sound.

Kells shrugged. “But that's something to try, I suppose, if you get desperate enough. Given enough time, I expect I could whip something up. If you’re willing to wait that long.”

At Deepa’s quizzical look, she elaborated. “Few weeks or months, most likely, depending how complicated it proves.”

Deepa couldn't help the crushing disappointment at hearing that timeline.

“Too long, is it? I suppose I wouldn’t want to wait that long, either. But, so it goes. We have to play the hand we're given.”

Side by side, they sat on the step and watched the clouds play over the surface of the moon until finally, Deepa fell asleep with her head in Kelly's lap sometime in the blue hours of pre-dawn.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

THE MORNING AFTER THE DARKEST NIGHT

Deepa woke with the yellow dawn, woman-shaped once more, as Kells draped her dressing gown over her, looking both unimpressed and begrudgingly amused.

“I’ll give you a lift back to the city, shall I?”

“Yes, please,” Deepa said in a small voice, sitting up and gathering the gown around herself as delicately as she could manage.

“I take it your curse isn’t broken as simply is that?” Kells asked, driving Deepa home in borrowed clothes.

“Unfortunately not.” Deepa cleared her throat. “I appreciate your offer from last night, about the potions. Do you suppose it would be easier with me being a woman half the time?”

“No idea,” Kells said bluntly. “Could be easier, then again, could make the whole thing twice as tricky. No way to tell without running a few experiments.”

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Deepa asked, aiming for levity and ending up somewhere in the vicinity of morbid curiosity, instead.

Kells cast her sideways glance. “Proper shapeshifting like what you're doing isn’t even supposed to be possible. Stories about people turning into animals and vice versa, that's supposed to’ve all been glamours and illusions. Changing the human body bit by bit like my friend, that's all connected to hormonal shifts, and the like. Natural stuff that already happens in the human body. I wouldn’t know where to start with you.”

“Well, you couldn’t possibly make my situation worse,” Deepa joked, trying to hide her mounting desperation.

Kells snorted, returning her eyes to the road. “Don't even say that. I guarantee you, it can always get worse.”

Despondently, Deepa expected she was right.

“Say hello to Roz if you see her before I do,” Kells said as she pulled up outside The Songbird. “You watching her fight on Thursday?”

“I’m not sure I’m invited.”

What manner of falling out Kells was imagining, Deepa didn't want to guess.

“Come by anyway,” Kells finally said. “You've got to return these clothes, if nothing else.”

That was true, though by Thursday, Deepa might decide to send them back to Kelly's cottage by way of post instead of returning to the boxing club and facing Roz again.

???

When Deepa received Appleton’s next missive on Monday morning at The Songbird, she tossed the note aside without replying. Continuing their charade seemed pointless. He couldn’t marry her, he hadn’t seen through her leopard form,and no matter how many men she swindled or deals she brokered, her life was never going to be the perfect glittering snow globe existence she craved. None of her efforts mattered. She’d achieved nothing but a curse and the taste of something wonderful in Roz’s company, that was then immediately lost. She was tired of striving for more and better when the world seemed so determined to throw all her work back in her face.

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