I get lost in my research of the demon.

Enough time passes that I eventually move my research to the living room.

I can feel the magic simmer between my fingertips as energy emanates from the book. The large tome is heavy in my hands.

The leather-bound book has an upside-down triangle overlapping a right-side up triangle.

It was divulged to me long ago that the symbol is for Aether, the breath of the Gods. No one has been able to concretely tell me what it means regarding my family's lineage, and at this point the information is lost with the disappearance of my Uncle Lachlan.

Lachlan taught me that every witch has a Book of Shadows, whether they know it or not. Most Books go back for centuries and were kept by the first witches as a source of record-keeping.

They were eventually passed down with every new generation with more information than they had before. Over time, it became a way of passing down knowledge from one generation to the next before such permanent things as social media existed.

My eyes are nearly crossing when there is a knock on the door.

I am relieved to have a reprieve from the research. Ignoring the fact I am only wearing a pair of boxer-briefs and a tank top, I decide to answer the door. No one is visible from the peephole, and I almost write it off as my mind playing tricks on me.

I open the door, against my better judgment, to find no one is there. I am dismayed when something rubs against my bare legs. A black cat rubs against me as it passes between my legs and into the house.

The cat bolts into the living room. I slam the door and follow the cat, startled by its quick movements.

I find the cat cuddled up on the sofa beside the book. The sight of the cat cuddled up on the couch warms a piece of my soul that is counter to the piece that wants to toss the cat out on its ass.

Something about the cat is charming.

The cat yawns lazily as it stares at me.

"I don't know much about cat-tiquette, but you can't just burst into someone's house. How do I know you're not a cat burglar?"

The cat meows as it watches me. I am ashamed to say the cat has gained my respect by being as non-committal as possible.

It has no collar. I wonder if Eric and Sierra would be deathly opposed to having a stray cat join our household.

I mean, the decision has already been made, so it doesn't matter.

I kneel next to the cat. "Okay, buddy. You're lucky I'm unemployed with no real discerning direction in life. Normally, I would tell you to get your cute little feline ass off my sofa and out of my house, but you're kind of cute. So, I guess I'll allow you to stay."

The cat yowls before hopping off the sofa and heading into the hallway. I follow closely as the cat leads me to the kitchen. The cat yowls loudly into the air as it stops in front of the refrigerator. It clearly wants something to eat, and curiously, it knows how to ask for it.

As a cat-free house, we are fresh out of cat snacks.

I grab a small saucer from the cupboard before retrieving our nearly expired milk from the fridge. I pour the milk into the saucer and sit the saucer on the ground. The cat unabashedly moves to the saucer and laps up the milk.

"Jeez! You must be starving. I guess I should get you cat snacks, right? What in the Hell is my life? Only I could suddenly have a cat. Do you have an owner?" I ask. "I'm talking to a cat. As if you understand or care what I have to say."

The cat stops drinking long enough to gaze at me. It feels as if the cat understands what I am saying. It quickly dives back into the milk, and I decide I should get actual cat food.

It would be good to get out of the house. I can also drop by the police station to get more information on Nanoki. Eric may be able to give me information on other missing people that could connect to her.

It feels overwhelming and daunting, but I am on the council's timetable, whatever that is. I leave the cat drinking milk as I leave to get dressed.

Eric would never forgive me if I showed up at the police station in my underwear.

Again.

                                                                                      -          

The cat, who I have now named Collins (after the infamous Joan Collins) after finding out she is a female, and I head down to the local pet shop shortly after I am fully dressed.

A woman in a pair of cat ears helps me in buying cat supplies, including relatively expensive cat food that Collins seems to enjoy. The woman grows enamored with Collins, who does not enjoy her attention.

She hisses whenever the woman tries to hold her.

The woman checks the registry to see if anyone has reported a missing cat. She informs me no one in town has reported Collins missing.

If I were a more suspicious person, I would wonder if she were a familiar. Familiars are guiding spirits that come to a witch when they need them the most. I do not fit the bill.

The last thing I need is a guiding spirit.

The woman gets too friendly and Collins scratches her fingers. The cat draws blood and I cannot help but feel a sense of pride for her, even though I apologize profusely to the woman.

We leave the store and head over to the police station. I am not sure whether leaving a cat in the car is the same as leaving a child, but I decide not to risk it.

Collins is fascinated by all the people rushing past us.

We stop at the front desk, and I tell the receptionist, Stacia, that I am here to see Eric. Stacia regards me much like anyone would. I am standing in front of her holding cat in a busy precinct.

Her messy blonde bob jumps as she looks at her computer screen. I notice the top button of her blue button-up is undone, revealing more of her cleavage than I want to see. The smell of cigarette smoke is faint on her.

It hits me.

I must look like a total nut with an antsy cat under my arm. Stacia explains to me how to get to Eric's desk. I thank her before heading in the direction she points out.

The moment we step into the larger office, Collins and I both pause.

The room is open and full of rows of desks. Some officers are sitting at their desks typing while others have clients at their desk. Many officers are hauling their clients to a room just out of view. They are likely taking them to an interrogation room or the holding area.

For clients.

Stacia's instructions are perfect and lead me to a desk with Eric's nameplate. All the desks are unsurprisingly similar. Each desk has a computer and various office supplies. Eric, in true straight male fashion, has a couple of police officer POP figurines and a picture of himself, Sierra and me.

I absentmindedly sit Collins on the desk across from his and tell her to stay put. I conclude I should just leave Eric a note to call me. I grab the notepad from his desk and scribble down a quick note as Collins yowls.

"Bro, where in the Hell did this cat come from?!"

I look up from the note I am writing to see what I can only describe as a male model with gun holsters strapped to his shoulders.

The strapping man has shoulder-length chocolate hair and precariously brown eyes. Broad-shoulders McGee folds his relatively large arms over his chest as he glares at me.

"No pets in the bullpen. Who in the Hell are you?" He asks.

"Do you talk to everyone like that?"

"Only ones with furballs. Besides, that's tame. You are aware we have actual criminals in here, right?"

I scoff as I grab Collins. "I really hope he peed on something important, Officer Asshole."

"That's Detective Asshole to you, civilian." He extends his hand to me. "Diego."

I shake his hand. "You're a very strange man. We're in the middle of exchanging insults." I say.

"Me? You're standing in the middle of a crowded police station holding a cat."

"Fair point."

I snicker at his barb as my eyes find a picture of a teenage girl on his desk. The resemblance is uncanny. I suspect it is his sister.

Diego asks if I am in the station to report a crime, and I am about to answer when Eric appears with a frozen burrito on a warped plastic plate. The man ignores all cautioning against melting plastic in the microwave. I once had to use a freezing charm to stop a small microwave fire because he still cannot grasp what not to put in the microwave.

Diego comments on how much we look alike as Eric extols the virtues of his new friend and partner, Diego. I am saved when an overweight man in a captain's uniform calls Diego from an office across the bullpen. He excuses himself, staring a bit too long for my comfort.

"Is that a cat? Where in the Hell did you get a cat, Park?" Eric asks.

"Long story short, she's our cat now. She has chosen us. All hail the cat queen Collins."

"You named it. Crap."

"Yup. I love her."

"I thought we were getting a dog."

"What can I say. She found me."

Eric groans. "I swear, every time I leave you to your own devices, something strange happens. You manifested a cat, didn't you?"

"No! No, I—I don't think so. Listen, I'm not here about the cat. The cat is happening. Get on board with the cat. We've bonded. She scratched an annoying cat lady and now she's my new best friend. Sorry."

Eric rolls his eyes at me as he asks me to follow him.

We cross the room to the area where the other officers are disappearing to with their clients. He pulls me into a white room with a metal desk in the middle of the room. An obvious two-way mirror on the right side of the room makes me nervous.

Eric quickly turns off the camera in the corner of the room before he returns to me.

"What's up?" He asks.

"I was wondering if you could get more information on the missing persons for me. I know it's a big ask, but there could be more to it than meets the eye."

"You do know you can call them missing people, right?"

"Missing persons sounds more official."

"Why are you so interested? And what do you mean by more than meets the eye?" Eric asks.

Eric's question confounds me. I can't tell him the real reason, but I cannot lie. He'll sniff me out from a mile away.

"I applied at the university. I want to know if this is a common thing or if I should withdraw my resume."

"And you think I'm going to help you insert yourself into our investigation?" Eric asks.

"I could help. It's not like I'm doing anything particularly helpful to anyone right now. If my powers—of deduction and persuasion can help you solve this, why not?" I ask.

"Moot point. You know I can't divulge case details."

"I'm not asking you to divulge—okay, I kind of was, but now I'm just asking that you look for a link between the cases. There's got to be something that links them. There's always a link."

"Who's the detective here? I don't see you with a badge. I do this every day." Eric says. "But thanks for explaining the nature of crimes to me."

"You're so prickly about this. Can you just find more information for me?" I ask. "Or else I'm going to have to another way to the information. I would rather not do that."

"You wouldn't!"

"I absolutely manifested this cat. Can't imagine manifesting myself taking some files from around here would be any harder."

"Wow, you're a little jerk! I will do what I can, but I'm not making promises. Now, can you please get the damn cat out of the precinct?" Eric asks. "You're embarrassing me."

I thank him before agreeing to leave. His annoyance with me is enough to sustain my sibling rivalry gauge for a few more hours. As I am leaving, I take care to mutter he should be glad I put on pants.