The Magical Christmas Cat

He should've already called in the Brotherhood.



There were agents posted in at least twenty sites around the world; there were men like him watching over vortexes where II Colletore Di Anima might rise, one last time. As soon as they knew where the event was to take place, they could converge and see that the final collection did not happen, not here and now.



Defeated, II Gatto Nero would be forced to return to the jade and wait another two hundred and eighty-seven years before trying again to rise, and at that time the demon would be someone else's problem.



If the Brotherhood could keep the statue in their possession, perhaps they could find a way to destroy the demon before that time passed.



All possible scenarios had been studied and discussed, and Zane was well aware of the most favored scenario. The Brotherhood would find the next victim. Ruby. They would watch over her closely, just as he was doing now. A group of well-trained warriors would wait for the demon to rise, and they would kill the intended victim, robbing her of her life and robbing the collector of the soul he required to take form. By that time it would be too late for the collector and those who served it to choose another victim, to appear in the heart of another vortex in another town or another country. The time for the taking of a soul was very precise and inflexible. There would be no second chances for the demon, not if the timing was right.



It was a coldhearted but workable plan.



Unfortunately, Zane liked Ruby. He liked her a lot. For the first time since joining the Brotherhood and dedicating himself to the destruction of II Colletore, he was having serious second thoughts. There had to be another way.



The demon would rise on one of the three nights when the moon was at its fullest. It was impossible to know which one. In any case, Zane had a matter of days to find an alternative.



Dinner was simple. He didn't want to scare her off with anything too unfamiliar, so he made chicken teriyaki with pineapple salsa and brown rice. Zane actually enjoyed cooking. The simplicity of the task took his mind to a quieter place. Usually. Tonight his mind would not rest. There was no quiet place within him.



He filled their plates at the stove, then carried them to the table where two tall glasses of ice water sat on cheerful Christmas place mats, along with matching cloth napkins and good silverware.



"Looks good," Ruby said as she took her seat. "And healthy."



"It is." Zane sat, after she was settled. Since the table had been pushed into one corner, there were only two spaces available, and they were side by side.



"Do you have something against eating healthy food?"



He forced his voice to be light, almost teasing. He even managed a smile.



"As long as it's in moderation," she responded.



And then she took her first bite. The look on her face was one of surprise. "Oh, this is good," she said after she'd swallowed.



"You sound so surprised."



"Don't get me wrong, it's not exactly an English toffee cheesecake, but it's very tasty."



They managed to eat and talk, and the conversation was very nice. Even though he could and did on occasion cook, Zane was accustomed to eating alone, whether he grabbed something quick or made a full meal. He couldn't even count the number of meals he'd eaten mindlessly while reading a book or working on charts or doing research on the Internet.



This was nice, and made him wish the circumstances were different.



They were almost finished with the meal when the doorbell rang. He couldn't help but note how the sound of the bell made Ruby jump out of her skin. She was skittish, as if she instinctively realized something was wrong.



She stood and headed for the front door, and Zane followed. Someone in this neighborhood had given Ruby the jade cat. Someone in this neighborhood was aligned with the Order of Runhura and offering her up to II Colletore Di Anima. That someone would not take kindly to a disruption in her routine, and Zane intended to be a disruption.



Todd stood on Ruby's porch, his tie-dyed T-shirt not quite enough to keep out the December chill, not even here in Alabama, where the winters were mild.



He hunkered in slightly and rubbed at his arms to ward off the chill, as he looked past Ruby's shoulder.



The man was obviously surprised to see Zane standing there, making himself at home in Ruby's house. Usually friendly eyes hardened, for a moment.



"I didn't know you had company," Todd said.



"Yeah," Ruby said. "What can I do for you, Todd?"



"I won a drawing for a free dinner at Captain Ron's Seafood, and I thought you might like to join me." He waved a piece of paper that was clutched in his meaty hand.



"That's very nice, but I've already eaten," Ruby said kindly.



Zane wondered if Todd's interest was normal and sexual or abnormal and deadly. It was impossible to tell. He had been the one to deliver the anonymous present at the party yesterday, and he did seem to hang around Ruby's house more than he should, but that didn't mean he was in league with the demon. It only meant he was a creep.



"Tomorrow, maybe." Todd grimaced. "It expires on Wednesday, so I need to use it soon."



"I really . . ." Ruby began.



"We're busy tomorrow," Zane said, stepping forward and placing his arm around Ruby's shoulder.



It was a pose that said, very clearly, mine. His eyes communicated the same, as they met Todd's. "You're going to have to find someone else to take to dinner."



Todd grimaced. His nose twitched, and he rubbed his hands along his meaty arms. "Do I smell coffee? It sure is cold out here."



Ruby was just about to invite the creep in when Zane reached past her to grab the doorknob. "Good night, Todd," he said as he swung the door closed.



And locked it.



"That was rude," Ruby said, tilting her head back to look up at him.



"You're welcome. Now, tell me why you jumped out of your skin when the doorbell rang."



Ruby felt silly telling Zane that a dream had made her jumpy, but he did teach psychology, so maybe he could shed some light on the meaning of the vivid nightmare. All day she'd expected the dream to fade, as they usually did, but this one had stayed with her.



If anything, it had grown more vivid in her mind, more real.



They'd cleared off the kitchen table, and she'd placed her contribution to the meal in the center of the table. Dessert tonight was Death by Chocolate Cake, her best seller at the shop, and a pot of freshly brewed decaf. Zane was eyeing the cake as if it might come to life and bite him.



"There are only two of us."



"You can take some leftovers home, if you can get past the fact that it's not at all healthy." She cut him a huge slice and put it on one of Aunt Mildred's favorite Christmas dessert plates, then cut herself a smaller piece. He poked at the cake with his fork as if he still expected an attack.



"Tell me about the dream that spooked you," he said, eyes on the cake.



Ruby took a bite to delay. She chewed slowly.



Maybe if she told the dream aloud, it would sound silly and she could laugh and dismiss it and tonight she'd sleep well. She began, and as she told the dream it did not sound silly at all. By the time she was finished, she had chills all over again. She'd never sleep tonight!



Zane didn't make fun of her or make light of the dream, but instead listened intently. He didn't so much as take a taste of the cake, so when she was finished with the telling—the last bit being the sight of a fathomless black face sucking the very breath out of her—she reached for his fork and cut off a big piece that had moist cake, chocolate chips, white chocolate chunks, and thick frosting. When she led the fork to his mouth, he automatically parted his lips, and she slipped the cake inside.



Zane closed his lips, and an expression of sheer ecstasy flashed across his face. "Good God," he said, taking the fork from her and cutting off another bite, then taking a swig of hot coffee. "This is decadently delicious."



He was always so surprised when her treats tasted good. "Didn't your mother bake?"



"No. She did on occasion buy the generic brand lemon cookies or Twinkies, but I never developed a taste for either."



"Bless your heart," she said sincerely. He literally didn't know what he was missing!



He shrugged. "Your dream," he said, changing the subject. "It's quite interesting. Did you write down the details?"



"No."



"You should. Do so tonight before you go to bed," he instructed. "And if you have any more dreams like that, write them down as well."



"I hope there are no more dreams like that one, not ever again." She shuddered and sipped at her decaf, wondering if she'd sleep at all tonight.



"Dreams often have meanings we must take time to decipher. Yours was definitely unusual. I want to hear immediately if there are more like it."



"I'll call you at three in the morning again," she said, trying for a lighthearted tone.



"Do," he said seriously. "Anytime."



"So," she said, pushing a half-full cup of coffee back. "In your expert opinion, what do dreams like that one mean?"



"Expert?" he asked, taking one more bite of the cake before setting it aside, as she had her coffee.



"You teach psychology, right?"



For a moment he looked confused, then chagrined.



"No. I teach par apsychology."



"Parapsychology," she repeated.



"It's the study of phenomena which have not yet been explained by conventional science. You know," he said when she did not respond. "Extrasensory perception, clairvoyance and clairaudience, telepathy, psychometry, remote viewing, precognition."



Ruby felt deflated. Shit. Zane Benedict was good-looking and smart and sexy, and she had really enjoyed his company tonight. She was even beginning to forgive his insistence on eating healthy and shunning her favorite food groups. Too bad he was a flake.



Zane knew this look. He'd seen it many times in his lifetime. It wasn't as bad for him as it had been for his father. These days there were a greater number of people willing to admit that there was more to life than what could be seen and explained in a rational fashion. Of course there were skeptics. He should've known Ruby was one of them. "You're not a believer."