Page 49 of Hell's Kitten

Wild.

I bite my lip and worry we’re not doing something we should be. I guess cats give birth alone all the time. They like to take themselves off to a secluded nook and just get on with it. But nature doesn’t always get it right. Maybe we should fetch water or clean towels. Or maybe we should just keep our distance and let her get the hell on with it.

“I think the first one might be on the way?” Leah says, then glances over to our new friend. “So…were you headed to the library?”

“Uh,” the woman says, looking a little bashful. “I was going to see if the librarian was there, actually. Sometimes I say hi.”

“Oh, you know Ms. Maude?” I say with a smile. Thinking about it, of course this is her garden. It’s got big witchy vibes.

“Ms. Maude?” Leah says, tilting her head in curiosity.

“The librarian,” I elaborate before nodding at the stranger. “I’m Jessie, and this is Leah.”

“Selena,” the other woman says before her eyes go wide. “Oh, wow. I think that’s a kitten.”

We all peer under the bush, trying to get a good look. Clayton hops and chitters behind us like a dad pacing the corridor of a hospital. Sure enough, eventually, we get a glimpse of a mouse-sized thing. It looks like it’s wrapped in a condom until Mama gnaws on the sack, and then suddenly it breaks, and there’s a black kitten.

“Wow,” I say, shaking my head. “I’ve never seen that before.”

“Me, neither,” Leah agrees. “The cats are all neutered and spayed by the time they get to the café.”

Selena looks at her, then lifts her eyebrows. “Oh…you work at Toe Beans, do you?”

“We both do,” I mumble, my attention back on the cat. We wait patiently as she continues to push, and after a while, we go through the whole thing again, this time ending up with what looks like it could be a tabby baby.

“I guess Papa was a ginger, huh?” I say to the mama as she studiously cleans her babies.

Clayton hops around us, checking out his friend’s progress. From Mama’s body language I get the feeling that she’s done. Two seems a small number for a cat litter, but it’s probably not that unusual.

“What do we do now?” Leah asks. “I don’t want to just leave them here.”

Selena and I both shake our heads. “Nim will probably know,” I say. “We could call the café.”

“I guess he’ll tell us to take them to the shelter we work with,” Leah says thoughtfully. “They’ll probably want to check her and her babies over.”

“I think that raccoon might have something to say if we try and relocate his little valentine,” Selena says with a nervous chuckle.

“Hmm,” I agree. “Not to mention what Mama might do if we stick our hands in there. I feel like we definitely need an expert who won’t upset them.”

Leah nods. “How about?—”

“Ah,thereyou are,” a female voice says behind me as fingers slide through my hair. Nails graze my scalp, and my breath hitches. “The lost black kitten. I knew the tea leaves never lie to me.”

I blink as both Leah and Selena look above me with their mouths hanging open. I twist enough so I can see the newcomer, relief whooshing through me as I realize it’s Ms. Maude, the librarian.

“Oh, hi!” I say. “Uh, did you say you were looking for a black cat? She’s under here.”

Ms. Maude gives my head a little scratch that sends shivers down my spine, then withdraws her hand from my hair. As usual, she’s wearing a long black floaty skirt and heeled boots. Today, she’s got a knitted sweater on top and a leather choker around her neck, all black, of course. Thinking about it, I know I’ve seen her several times, but I’m not sure if she’s ever really noticed me until right now.

She crouches down beside me, tilting her head with a smile. “Good cat,” she says warmly. “I thought you were ready. Were you waiting for your audience?”

The cat yawns widely and swishes her tail. “Oh, is she yours?” I ask, remembering the black cat that’s always by her side.

However, Ms. Maude shakes her head. “No. I have already been chosen. But I’ve seen our guest around lately. She knew what she was doing.”

Mama blinks slowly at the librarian before turning back to tend to her newborns.

“Oh, that’s good,” I say, even though I don’t exactly feel reassured. Talking to Ms. Maude makes me feel like I’m missing half of what she’s actually saying. “Do you know what we should do with her? We were thinking of taking her to the shelter, but?—”

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