Sin & Spirit (Demigod of San Francisco #4)(45)

Someone had left the kitchen curtains open, letting in a little light. Frank stood out in the middle of the street, still as the ghost he was. He faced away from the ocean, as though watching for intruders. Which was odd, because usually he stood on the grass.

Does he see something?

“What is it going to take to get you to follow me?”

My heart ratcheted up to an alarming speed. I froze. Felt my eyes widen. Turned around slowly.

Nothing stood in the entryway.

My gulp was loud in the quiet kitchen. I hurried to the door and looked out, my rampaging heart now in my throat.

A dark, quiet house greeted me. Nothing was here.

But I had heard a voice!

“Is my sanity slipping?” I whispered into the hush.

“I’ve never in my life”—I whipped around—“seen someone so clueless”—I darted to the edge of the island—“in the face of danger as you”—and stared down at the cat.

Its mouth hadn’t moved. But it was standing there, staring up at me as though it had just spoken. As though it was now waiting for me to take action.

“I’m still dreaming,” I said with a slack mouth.

“The back of the house,” the voice came again, and damned if it didn’t sound like it was coming from that cat. The logical explanation was that Bria had thought it a hilarious joke to put a spirit in there, but the cat was very much living, and no human soul was hunkering in its furry little body.

“I’m going crazy,” I whispered, unable to tear my eyes away.

“No, you’re going stupid. Hurry!”

“You’re a cat. I’m dreaming, I must be.”

It bristled, hissing, then pounced and wrapped itself around my ankle. Its sharp little teeth and claws bit into my flesh.

I let out a high-pitched squeal and shook my leg, trying to get it off. Trying to wake up.

It jumped back like it was on a pogo stick. “Focus! We don’t have time for you to be this clueless. Hurry! She’s at the back of the house, and soon they’ll be all over. I don’t have time to explain. Suffice to say, you still have my pocket watch, it’s in your Demigod’s silly little safe, which can easily be broken into, and we’ll need to have a few words about why you have an office filled with cats when you clearly don’t like the bloody things. But we’ll worry about that later! Hurry. I’m not about to see my newest pupil end up…like almost all of the Spirit Walkers before you.”

Disbelief bled through me. I could hear spirits in their cadavers, but…

“That cat is alive. You can’t shove spirits into living things.”

“I am not inhabiting this cat. I am possessing this cat. There is a very big difference.”

“How much of that cat’s personality are you controlling?” I asked as I followed it.

“Get a hold of yourself,” it called back, loping in front of me.

I slowed, reality finally seeping in.

“How can you be in here when I coated this whole house with magic-repelling spirit?” I asked.

“By being in this cat. My perfect god, you are slow. It would be awe-inspiring if it weren’t so sad. It’s a real shame what they let women get away with just because they’re pretty.”

I opened my mouth for another question when a soul bleeped onto my radar. Warning crept through me, sending a shock of cold down my spine. The soul moved slowly, like it was creeping, sticking to just outside of the house.

I hurried forward, all my senses on high alert. Near the laundry room, I slowed down.

“Finally,” the cat said, and leapt onto the dryer, closest to the window. “She’s out here.”

“How do you know?” I asked suspiciously, eyeing the drawn shades.

The cat’s head swiveled around and it stared at me condescendingly. The spirit had picked the perfect animal to be an asshole in, that was for sure. Two peas in a pod.

“You’re a Spirit Walker, right,” I said softly, batting it off the dryer. I still didn’t trust him, especially since he hadn’t bothered telling me he would be assuming this other form for the time being. “Can I possess animals?”

“When you come back as a spirit? Most likely. Shall I kill you and see if you can figure it out?”

The soul slinked just a little closer. Through the window, I could see a shapely form dressed in dark clothes—a woman’s body. She paused by the door and reached into a utility belt. I didn’t need the Spirit Walker to tell me she planned on breaking in.

I could take her down right now, easily. It was a living human, the soul was throbbing right there, and I had lots of experience. Hell, I could yank out the soul, stuff it back in, and make her tell me who’d sent her. But why in the hell would anyone break into this house?

“Yes. I can see the wheels are turning. Talk me through it,” the cat said.

“Kieran is inexperienced for a Demigod,” I whispered, “but he is still a Demigod, and he took down Valens. He’s not to be underestimated. Then there’s me. I’m also inexperienced. Everyone knows that. But I can still rip out souls. Nancy would’ve confirmed my magic by now. And if not, the way I helped Kieran take down Valens probably unnerved a lot of people.”

The lock jiggled on the door. I paused, my heart hammering. Everything in me quailed as I thought like a single woman with two kids and no weapons, feeling vulnerable and helpless.