Page 6 of Casting Butterflies

“I doubt the house likes being covered in bugs,” I remarked.

“Houses don’t have feelings.”

“Some would say the same about trees.”

“Are we really going to argue about that again?”

Why not? It beat going into the creepy, straight-out-of-a-horror-movie abode. “You have to admit you can be pretty cold.”

“Because people annoy me. Has nothing to do with trees, which feel quite a bit by the way.”

“Bullshit,” I scoffed.

“You should have sensed their excitement when Lord of the Rings came out. So many tried to unroot and walk like the Ent. Didn’t work, of course, and more than few toppled before that became clear.”

I pursed my lips. “You’re fucking with me right now, aren’t you?”

“Am I?” I swear the cat wore an enigmatic smile. “Did I ever mention that your broken arm at ten wasn’t an accident but retribution for the tree house you built?”

My mouth rounded. “Now I know you’re screwing with me. Why would a tree be pissed about a tiny fort?”

“Did you drive nails into the trunk to affix it?”

“Well yeah.” I bit my lower lip. “I take it that hurt?”

“Let me hammer some metal spikes into you so you can tell me.”

I sighed. “Well damn. Guess I owe the tree an apology.”

“Guess you do. Now, if you’re done procrastinating…” Cedric glanced at the house and as my gaze followed, my unease returned.

I really didn’t want to go in inside and not just because of the butterflies. Foreboding tightened my stomach. Still…we’d come for the estate sale, and it wasn’t as if we’d be in the house alone. About a dozen other vehicles were parked on the street, and people wandered at random over the lawn, and more than a few slipped inside. Surely if there was danger within, they’d emerge screaming.

“All right. I’m going in,” I announced as I headed up the butterfly-shaped flagstones for the front door, pausing as I realized Cedric didn’t follow. “Aren’t you coming?”

“People might find it odd if a cat accompanied you.”

“That’s their problem. I want you nearby so I know what to spend my money on.” Needed him, lest my terror at all the butterflies turn me into a sobbing mess.

“Just bid on the magical items.”

“Which will totally be noticeable,” I replied with a roll of my eyes. “Have you forgotten I can’t sense shit?” Unlike Charlie, who had very witchy genes, I remained just a human girl waiting for her own prince charming and trying to stave off the spinster cat-lady curse. “You’ll need to give me a paw.”

“I’ll join you, but don’t be surprised if I’m refused entry,” Cedric warned as approached me.

“Not if I tell them you’re my emotional support cat.” Although… “To make it believable, we should put some kind of leash on you.”

Hiss. “Do that at your own peril.”

Judging by the flex of his claws, he meant the threat. “I’m going to guess carrying you like a baby in my arms is also out.”

“You would be correct.”

“Then what would you suggest?”

“You shall carry me upon your shoulder.”

It turned out Cedric needed to drape across them since his tom-cat size made it unfeasible for him to perch on just one shoulder. We must have looked the sight as I strode in, chin high, as if it were totally normal to wear a cat like a stole. I got a few looks, but no one said a thing. Then again, upon seeing the inside of the home, a person with an emotional support kitty must have seemed normal in comparison to the eccentric woman who used to live here.