Page 64 of A Time of Witches

Essie would be tickled to death when she found out he drove a Mercedes—Lilith would never hear the end of it.

He nodded to her in greeting and her heart tripped over itself. As he exited the car, he pulled a pet carrier with him. Toby bounded out behind him, trying to peer through the grate of the carrier. Tutting, Asher drew the carrier higher, out of Toby’s reach.

Lilith crossed her arms over her chest. “If you’re planning on taking Lord Wimbleton the third away, Aunt Jacqueline will never forgive you.”

Asher lifted a sardonic brow. “Don’t tempt me.” He tilted his head to the carrier. “But I don’t think this chap would appreciate having a skunk in here with him.”

Lilith moved forward, lured by what could possibly fit in the small crate. “Can I see?”

Toby snuffled and snorted in his eagerness to get to whatever was inside.

“Let’s go in the house first.” Asher closed the car door with such care it made barely a sound. As if he were trying to keep from startling the animal.

Once inside, Asher pinched the lock together and opened the cage-like door. Toby perched on the couch with his stubby front legs, trying to peer in, but Asher gently nudged the dog away.

Lilith leaned closer, craning her head toward the opening.

At first, she saw nothing, but then a shape appeared in the shadows—a black cat pressed against the rear of the crate, his tail spiraled in front of his body like a shield.

“He hasn’t left the carrier, poor chap.” Asher rested his elbows on his knees and lowered his head near Lilith’s. His scrubs smelled like fresh laundry and Lilith hated how much that made her want to curl up against him and breathe him in.

Oblivious, Asher continued, “His owner wasn’t caring for him properly, so the RSPCA removed him from the home. When they found him, he didn’t have any food or water and had been so hungry, he’d torn into a bag of bread on the counter.”

“Bless his little heart.” Lilith shook her head. “I’ll never understand people who neglect their animals.”

Asher fisted his hands, and the veins in his forearms stood out against his skin. “Me neither.” His voice softened. “The mite is malnourished and stressed. I thought he might do better here…as long as Toby minds himself.” He looked over his shoulder to where Toby was edging closer to the cat carrier.

The dog gave an indignant grumble and slunk back to his bed in the corner.

They shared a smile and turned back to the carrier to find a small black head emerging curiously from the crate. Lilith turned her hand palm up, trying to appear as nonthreatening as possible.

The cat sniffed carefully at her thumb, his jerky exhalations tickling against her skin. Then he turned his large green eyes up at her, wide with a trust that tugged at her heart.

As if sensing her reaction, the little cat stepped forward, revealing bald patches on the backs of his front legs.

“He’s been licking to self-soothe.” Asher nodded to the bald spots.

The tug at her heart became a visceral wrench.

The cat crept closer—first onto her knee, weighing scarcely anything—then her thigh, revealing his slender frame, hip bones jutting from beneath his black fur.

He perched in her lap, curled into a ball, and settled against her like Amara did with Essie, yielding to an embrace filled with love and complete trust.

Asher looked at the cat and smiled up at Lilith. “Everyone at the office has been trying for two days to lure him out. Looks like he just needed the right person.”

Lilith stared down at the ball of warm black fur nestled against her. The small cat had chosen her. As if he could sense the pain inside her the way she sensed it in him. Two wounded souls bound together.

She wanted to heal his hurt, to make him forget everything he’d endured. To ensure he would never be vulnerable and ill-treated again.

Even after Mama had died, Lilith hadn’t gotten a pet. The idea of something else depending on her was more than she could bear.

But the need in this tiny, misused creature was pure and tender. What brought him to Lilith wasn’t about taking and hurting but trusting and healing.

She stroked a hand over his slender body, noting every prominent rib her fingers skimmed. A steady purr revved in the cat’s throat, trusting and eager for affection.

Her chest swelled with more love than she’d ever imagined possible.

Unexpected emotion knotted in her throat. “What’s his name?”