Chapter 1

Reg rubbed her eyes and yawned, not particularly ready to face her day and Sarah’s disapproval. The gray-haired, older woman was usually pleasant and easy to get along with. Reg’s landlord, she rented out the guest cottage in her back yard at a very reasonable rate, fully furnished in a rustic Florida style, and could frequently be found stocking Reg’s fridge or writing new appointments into Reg’s appointment book on the kitchen island, which Reg didn’t pay her to do. She was helpful and grandmotherly and had helped Reg through some difficult situations.

But Sarah did not like cats, and that was a problem. She had an African gray parrot as her familiar and bird feeders in the beautiful gardens on the property, and cats were high on her list of pests to be eliminated.

Starlight, Reg’s black and white tuxedo cat with a white marking on his forehead, had been lucky to escape Sarah’s wrath. Reg had adopted him before she knew of Sarah’s anathema, so Sarah had overlooked Reg’s not consulting her first. Sarah even fed Starlight when she popped over—which was frequently. Too much, if the truth were told.

But the recent addition of Horace was another story. Reg had not gotten permission to take in another cat and had known that Sarah was strict in her rule that Reg was not to have any more pets.

Especially cats.

Of course, Reg knew that the pure black cat was not actually the usual, run-of-the-mill domestic short hair that he appeared to be.

And she hadn’t adopted him. Not intentionally, anyway.

“I can’t help it that Harrison left him here,” Reg told Sarah for the hundredth time. She gathered her box braids into both hands to pull them all back behind her shoulders, and let the red strands fall. “I told him not to. But he did. And it’s going to take me a little time to find a new home for Horace.”

“You can’t keep him.”

“I know that. And I’m not planning to, I told you that from the start. He’s not going to stay here. But…… I need to find a new home for him. And I can’t just dump him on someone.”

Sarah’s sour look indicated that she didn’t see why not. “That’s what you said last week.”

“I’m trying. It isn’t like I can return him to his previous owner. That warlock was in Egypt, and I don’t even know if he exists anymore.”

It seemed like a strange thing to say about a person, and maybe it was, but Reg didn’t know how else to put it. Uncle Harrison had made the warlock disappear and, whether he had used his powers as an immortal to teleport him back to his house in Egypt or had annihilated him, Reg had no idea. And she didn’t really want to know. Even if she asked Harrison, he would probably give her some nonsensical answer or ask her something about the nature of human existence and she would be no closer to the truth.

“Didn’t he have heirs? Maybe the cat could go to his children.”

“I hope he didn’t have children.” Reg gave a little shudder, thinking about the evil, power-hungry warlock. “And if he did, I wouldn’t give Horace to them. He wasn’t happy in Egypt.”

“Egypt is a wonderful place for cats. They are worshiped there,” Sarah pointed out.

“They used to be worshiped there. That was a long time ago. Now… who knows how they treat them. Probably let them wander the streets and get eaten by dogs.”

“There is a natural order of things,” Sarah said with a nod, as if this were a sad truth that nothing could be done about.

“Just like cats eating birds?”

Sarah’s face got red.

Not the right thing to say. Not when Reg wanted Sarah to calm down and relax about Horace being around for a few more days.

“Sorry.” Reg rubbed her eyes again. “I just got up. I need my coffee. Then I’ll be in a better mood. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“You know that I said no more cats. Even having that other one over to visit…” Sarah rolled her eyes over the concept of kitty play dates. But Starlight really did like having Nicole over. Horace’s adoptive mother, Nicole was also black all over, and she and Starlight were very close.

“I know. But I didn’t take in another pet. You wouldn’t want me to just open the door and shoo him out, would you? Have him stalking around your garden?”

“Certainly not!” Sarah’s voice got noticeably shriller. “But we do have animal shelters. You could take him to one of those.”

“You want him to be put down? How is that fair? He hasn’t done anything to hurt anyone. His owner turned out to be an evil warlock who should never have had a pet. Who knows what kind of abuse Horace had to put up with while he was there. You think he should just be turned out and put down for something that wasn’t his fault?”

Reg’s own experiences with being abused and frequently moved from home to home in foster care meant that this hit much closer to home for Reg than it did for Sarah. It wasn’t Horace’s fault that he had been treated that way. Harrison had rescued him from a bad situation and dumped him on Reg, believing that she would be the best person to take care of him. And in other circumstances, maybe he would have been right but, as Reg couldn’t take on another pet under the current circumstances…

Reg pulled the coffee pot out from the coffee maker, even though it was still dripping a little and the drips sizzled on the hot plate and filled the room with the smell of burning coffee. She sloshed a good amount of coffee into a mug and quickly put the pot back in place.

“I’ll give Francesca a call later today,” she promised. “She was going to be looking for some other homes too. Okay?”

“Yes, fine,” Sarah agreed grumpily. “Why doesn’t she take this cat in until she can find a new home for it? She had all of the kittens before. She can easily manage two.”

“I’ve tried to get her to take him, but she says there is too much else going on and she needs to concentrate on the others… she’s worried about… things.”

Reg didn’t want to get into it too deeply. She too thought that Francesca should be able to take one more cat. Even if it were just short term. But Francesca’s worries about Horace and his eight litter mates were serious and not something that could just be brushed off. And Reg would prefer that Francesca were the one taking on that responsibility. Reg didn’t want anything else to do with the Witch Doctor and the other kattakyns.

“Just see that you deal with it soon,” Sarah reiterated, looking at the black cat who, for the moment, was curled up on the cushion of the wicker sofa, looking perfectly happy and at home.

“I will,” Reg promised.

But she didn’t know how she could find him a home any faster than she was already trying.

Sarah did a quick flip through the date book on the island, showing that she was moving on to other things and would not stop being involved in Reg’s life.

“Let me know when you do.”

Chapter 2

Reg decided to take a page out of Harrison’s book and just show up at Francesca’s with Horace. Maybe if Francesca actually had him in the house, and he showed how well he got along with Nicole (pronounced NEE-cole in Francesca’s beautiful Haitian accent) she would let him stay there, at least until the two of them could find him another home. Then Reg didn’t have to listen to Sarah’s lectures three times a day and could focus on her psychic services business.

And they would find Horace another home. Eventually. Unless Francesca decided he could stay there permanently.

Francesca raised her brows when she saw Reg on her doorstep with Horace in the cat carrier. She swept long blond curls back over her ear, frowning.

“Why did you bring him here?” Francesca asked. She looked at her watch. “We did not have anything set up today.”

“No, I know. But he wanted to see Nicole and has been moping around my place. So, I just took the chance that the timing would be okay. You don’t need to do anything; he won’t get in your way. He can just have a visit with Nicole…”

“You know I have other things to do.”

“I know. You’re a busy person,” Reg agreed crisply. “Lots of responsibilities. I don’t need to stop and visit. You can keep working on whatever…”

“I am not working on ‘whatever.’ I am working on preventing a disaster!”

Reg stepped toward the door and angled to get through it before Francesca decided to slam it in her face. As she expected, Francesca elected to be polite and stepped back, allowing Reg in. Reg put down the cat carrier and, as soon as Francesca closed the front door, Reg opened the carrier and let Horace out. He slunk out immediately and began smelling the floor around the carrier. He had lived there before and Reg was sure he would recognize the place and be happy to be there with his adopted mother again.

“Can you take a break from your work to have some tea?” Reg suggested.

Francesca sighed. She rubbed her forehead and nodded. “Come into the kitchen,” she conceded.

Reg followed her in and sat at the kitchen table while Francesca turned the kettle on and got out cups. Bright sunlight was streaming in the kitchen windows, making the glass fronts of the cupboards sparkle.

“So, I take it things are not going as well as you would hope?” Reg hoped that sympathy would go a long way to greasing the wheels and convincing Francesca to take Horace for a few days.

“No. It is… difficult” Francesca puttered around waiting for the kettle to boil and thinking about what she wanted to say. When she sat down at the table, she was ready to talk. “This is the problem. First, we fought the Witch Doctor, who was raising draugar from the dead to do his will. Not just one or two of them, but an increasing army.”

Reg nodded. “Nine zombie guys.”

Francesca rolled her eyes and shook her head. But Reg’s summary was correct, of course.

“We battle this immortal and together we are able to do what is not possible. With the help of Corvin and Damon, we are able to defeat him. Take most of his power away, until he flees, sending his essence into the nine draugar.”

“Which have shifted form from huge zombie guys to cute little black cats.”

“I use my charm to call them to me and bind them with a spell so that the being of the immortal cannot separate from the kattakyns and re-form as Samyr Destine.”

“Which you figure should hold him bound for a thousand years.”

“More or less,” Francesca agreed. “But I did not count on any interference in the process. I thought that once we found homes for the kattakyns all around the world, we would be safe from them rediscovering each other and re-forming even when the binding spell wore off. So scattered, they would have a difficult time finding each other.”

“But we sent Horace to Kareem.”

Francesca sighed and nodded. She pulled a file out of a pile of papers beside her and opened it up. Reg saw the research profile she had done on Kareem before they sent Horace to him. Everything they needed to know about his background. Except for the fact that he had merely been waiting for opportunity to present itself so that he could make his grab for power. He was an older, well-respected warlock, the leader of his coven. He had recently lost his cat familiar and was looking for his replacement. They thought that he would do well with the sedate, often sleepy Horace.

But Francesca’s profile had not suggested that the warlock might recognize the kattakyn for what he was and, even worse, recognize the portion of the Witch Doctor’s power that had been bound to the kattakyn. And that he would have the knowledge and skill to unwind Francesca’s charm and separate that piece of Samyr Destine from the creature for his own use.

“I cannot believe…” Francesca started. She stopped and shook her head sadly. “He seemed so perfect on paper. And I talked to him on the phone, corresponded with him in email. Everything seemed to be ideal.”

“He’s sneaky,” Reg comforted. “He was being deliberately deceptive. How were you supposed to know that?”

“I should have sensed it. Things that he said, I should have known.”

“You couldn’t,” Reg asserted. “Don’t spend time beating yourself up. You have enough to do without that.”

Francesca rubbed the bones around her eyes, looking tired. She nodded. “I know. You are right. So now… Kareem unbinds the kattakyn and takes that part of Samyr to himself. That is one thing. A powerful warlock with a portion of immortal powers—that is not good.”

Reg nodded her agreement.

“But after losing that piece… now what are we to do?”

Reg didn’t actually need a refresher on the problem. She knew that Francesca was just trying to lay it all out logically, to look at it again and find a solution they might have missed.

“It depends on where the piece went,” Reg offered.

“If you are sure that Kareem no longer had it…”

“Well… yeah. Harrison wouldn’t have disappeared him if he still had it.”

“Why not?”

“Because… he and Samyr are both immortals. Harrison always follows the rule that immortals are not allowed to harm one another.”

“Or so he says.”

“So he says,” Reg agreed. But she didn’t think that Harrison would do anything to harm one of his fellows. That was one thing about him that had remained constant. Even when she had asked him for his help, he had refused to do anything that might harm another of his kind. Or even one-ninth of his kind.

“He wouldn’t have done anything to Kareem if he still held a piece of the Witch Doctor.”

“Not even to return him to Egypt?”

“Well… I don’t know. But he said that Kareem no longer had that piece. And I believe him.”

“Then explain where it went.” Francesca took a sip of her tea and then folded her arms across her chest. She’d already heard the story from Reg enough times, there were no new details to give to her. They just kept going over the same facts.

“Harrison thinks that someone hid it.”

“And he would not be able to sense it?” Francesca’s tone was skeptical.

“He said that if it was hidden well enough, he would not be able to.”

“He was able to find each of the kattakyns.”

“But…” Reg struggled with magical concepts, not having been raised in a practicing home. “Were they hidden?”

Francesca considered. She chewed on her lip and had another sip of the tea. “I do not know how to hide something from an immortal. My skills are not in hiding.”

“If Kareem could sense the piece attached to Horace, and he is just a human, just a warlock, then it couldn’t have been hidden very well.”

“No. Perhaps… just because I could not sense it after they were bound… that doesn’t mean that no one could.”

Reg nodded her agreement. They sat for a while, nursing their cups. Reg knew where the conversation was going next, but she really didn’t want to go there. Talking about the past, about their battle with the Witch Doctor and finding the kattakyns homes; that was one thing.

Talking about what danger there might still be, a danger that was no longer a millennium away; that was something Reg didn’t want to do.

“The options are very limited,” Francesca said. She raised her index finger. “One, Harrison was lying, and he has the piece of Samyr.”

“If he does, I’m sure it’s just for safekeeping,” Reg said immediately. “I explained to him how dangerous it would be for him to put the pieces of the Witch Doctor back together again. How it was dangerous to me and the whole human race.”

Francesca didn’t look impressed by this. Harrison was not well-known for an overwhelming concern for the human race. Reg had caught his fancy, or at least, the child that Reg had been years before when he had tried to protect her from the Witch Doctor. Reg was no longer that little girl, and she feared he might be withdrawing from her, recognizing that she was no longer an innocent little child but had powers and gifts of her own. She wasn’t helpless any longer.

But against the Witch Doctor if he were re-formed and came after her? Reg shuddered at the thought of what he might do to her.

“Possibility two,” Francesca raised the next finger, “Someone is hiding the piece of Samyr. Namely Corvin Hunter.”

Reg nodded.

This was entirely possible. Corvin had been sucking the powers from Kareem, intent on his destruction. He might have taken the piece of the Witch Doctor during that process. And as a creature hungry for power and who already had absorbed much of the Witch Doctor’s powers, he would be loath to give it up. He would hide it from Harrison and anyone else who was able to sense it. He did not have control of all the powers that he had absorbed from the artifacts and the Witch Doctor the day of their battle, but he might control enough of them to access memories and powers that would allow him to hide what he had stolen.

“Or,” Reg held up three fingers, “it just dispersed out into the universe, like Corvin suggested.”

Francesca shook her head. “That seems very unlikely. The more I research… the more certain I am that these final pieces of Samyr cannot be destroyed or dispersed. They must remain intact somewhere.”

Reg thought of mythology stories she had heard in school. Very powerful beings were difficult to kill. Even if you cut them into little pieces, those pieces had to be scattered or burned to prevent them from resurrecting, re-forming, or reincarnating.

“It isn’t like the pieces are his physical body,” she countered. “His spirit or powers or whatever is left of him… it isn’t like a body that has to stay the same size and shape.”

“No,” Francesca agreed thoughtfully. “They could be present in many different forms.”

“I don’t think that Corvin took that piece and hid it. I would know if he did that.”

“How?”

“Because… he can’t hide from me. We are connected.”

“He cannot hide anything from you?”

“Well…” Reg wavered.

Of course he could.

Francesca read Reg’s expression and nodded. “You do not even know all the powers he has absorbed. From Samyr and his artifacts and… anyone else he has drunk.” She grimaced as she said it. The thought made Reg a little queasy as well. She had been one of Corvin Hunter’s victims. He had charmed her and tricked her into agreeing to his proposition, which she did not realize meant taking her powers from her.

She had awakened empty and hollow, the silence as loud as a klaxon in her head. But he had returned her powers to save her from torture, and she had guarded them carefully—or tried to guard them carefully—ever since.

“It’s either Harrison or Corvin,” Francesca told her. Her lips pressed together in a line as Reg shook her head, not wanting to attribute the theft to either one of them. “If it isn’t them, then the only other person who could have taken it was… you.”