Chapter 18

The irony wasn't lost on me. My name was Cat, and yet Honey was the one curled up in a pile of fleece blankets on her bed, kneading the fluffiest blanket while she purred.

Purred.

I froze in the doorway, just staring.

"So, uh, this is a thing," I said, blinking. I quickly shut the door behind me, unable to take my eyes off my best friend. She was purring, kneading the fleece like cats made their little biscuits, and when she lifted her head to look at me, not only did the purring ramp up in volume, but her eyes changed. Her slit pupils widened, and a big grin crossed her face.

"Cat!" she cried happily, arching off the bed in a decidedly feline stretch before rushing across the room to head bump my shoulder. I staggered back. "Where did you go? I tried to find you, but your scent was faded so I knew you hadn't been back. And—you're all wet." She made a face and let go of me, shaking out her hand to try and get the droplets off.

"I…" I looked at her, at her slit-pupiled eyes, and burst into horrible, gut-wrenching tears.

Between sobs, I told her everything, from what happened while she was drunk at the party to just now, Tor bringing me home via his massive, shadow-dark horse.

By the time I finished, she was no longer purring and her eyes were so wide I saw myself reflected in them. She didn't have whiskers, fur, or claws, but her mannerisms and behaviour screamed cat.

"So," she said, plopping back into her pile of fluffy blankets. "I'm a cat, you're a bride of death. What about By?"

"I don't know," I admitted, perching on her desk, my feathered cloak thrown over the chair to dry. "He left before everything happened, and I don't remember seeing him when the house started to glow. I think… he might have escaped it."

"Good. That's good."

"Except we're cursed and he's not and it's a pretty big secret to keep from him." I rubbed my eyes, tired.

"We could just tell him," she suggested, flexing her fingers like a cat extending and retracting their claws.

I shook my head swiftly. "No. He's got enough to worry about. You know Sterling's pregnant?"

"Shit! He didn't tell me that." Her eyes were impossibly wide.

"That's why he ran out of the party. He got a call from her. He told me when I got home after… after everything happened." I shrugged, still hurt by the way he looked at me, snapped at me. "He's freaking out about their parents finding out. I don't think we should make him even more stressed with this curse shit."

Honey sighed and climbed off the bed again, wrapping her arms around me and squeezing until I grunted. "We'll figure this out, Cat. I know it's scary, and we don't really know what it means to be a cat or death's bride, but curses can be broken, right?"

"Right," I agreed weakly.

She hadn't felt the full force of Nightmare's power. I wished I'd drunk more that night so my memories were muddied too, wished I couldn't recall the exact way the air throbbed when people died. I swallowed hard, squeezing her back.

"And hey," she said, pulling back but giving me a reassuring smile. "I've always loved cats. Dad never let me get one. He said they smell because of all the litter trays and—oh god, am I gonna need a litter tray?"

Her eyes were very wide, her mouth hanging open.

"I reckon you can keep using the toilet as normal," I assured her, squeezing her shoulder.

She deflated with a sigh. "Thank fuck for that. My legs muscles aren't strong enough for all that squatting."

I snorted. She grinned, a laugh bubbling up from her stomach, and then we were both laughing for no reason at all, expelling stress and panic and traumatic memories in wild laughter.

Honey fell back on her bed, laughing until she calmed and gave me a sly look. "Are they hot? Your three husbands."

"They're not my three husbands," I instantly argued, my face hot.

She waggled her eyebrows. "I think that's a yes."

"Fine, yes, they're insanely, unfairly hot. But it's not like they're interested in me. The only reason they know I exist is because of the curse."

"They call that a meet cute."

"Pretty sure a curse is not a meet cute," I drawled, but I was smiling again. "And anyway, one of them hates me and one of them is wayyy too intense."

Her smile hooked deeper. "That's only two. What about the third?"

I scowled, but the expression softened when my memories went to the way Death held me, his kisses travelling over my neck, my shoulder, his voice steady and warm, his smoky eyes patient and kind.

"He's terrifying," I sighed, leaning back against the dresser. "Beyond scary. He'd make even serial killers run screaming. But he's kind."

Honey nodded. "And kindness is your kink."

"Hey," I protested. "I have more kinky kinks than that."

"Oh yeah?" She grinned, sprawling out on the bed as she watched me. "Like what?"

"I immediately regret protesting. I have no kinky kinks. Perfectly ordinary, thank you very much."

"I know you like older guys, so I guess that's a kink?"

"More a preference." I'd burned out on guys my age after a single one, and I had no interest in going back to immature, cheating assholes. I supposed that was one thing the gods had going for them. They were all older than me. Probably very, very old.

"Let me guess. You're scared of rejection like me and eager to please—"

"I know it's true, but I'd rather you didn't say it out loud, it just sounds sad—"

"So my guess is praise kink."

I rolled my eyes, pretending to scowl. "I suspect the pot is calling the kettle black."

She laughed "You suspect correctly. Okay, what else? We're in uni now, Cat. Sex talk and kinky shit is what med school is for."

"And here I thought it was for learning medicine."

She deployed the Stare, and said nothing, knowing full well I would break.

I crossed my arms over my chest and looking at the floor I said, "Fine. Dom/sub, dirty talk, some bondage, breath play, primal play, Ddlg, degradation, and CNC. What's yours?"

Honey's eyes were wide. "Damn, you've got a whole list."

My ears burned. "Yeah…"

"I just like getting my hair pulled and being called a good girl."

I stared at her. She stared back, then grinned.

"Shit, I need to be more adventurous," she laughed, blue eyes crinkled. "Learn more about myself. A great sexual awakening. How did you learn all this stuff anyway? You've had like, one boyfriend and I really doubt he could find the clit."

"Internet," I answered, "and no he could not."

"Waste of space," she muttered, then grinned at me. "Do you think your new husbands will do all that primal bondage stuff?"

I groaned. "It's not an actual marriage, and they're not my actual husbands."

"But they're hot, and you liiike them," she teased.

"Nightmare will kill me before I get a chance," I muttered, only half joking.

"All the more reason not to waste time. Go listen to Jason Derulo's Pony and bite those men, Cat." At my look, she snorted and said, "I have no idea what primal stuff means, and I'm happy in my innocent little bubble. Just promise me something, Cat."

"Anything," I agreed seriously.

"If you find another hot, six-foot-something god, send him my way."

A laugh burst up my throat, and then we were both giggling again.

"You've got first dibs," I promised her, my smile fading.

"We'll end the curse, Cat. First thing tomorrow, we'll go to the library and start finding ways to do it. The gods said Nightmare did this before, right?"

"Yeah."

"So someone must have been in our exact position before. All we need to do is find an ancient tome or a very worn journal, and we'll be back to normal in no time."

I forced a nod and wished I agreed with her.