Good Luck Cat

The cat appeared out of nowhere.

Deirdre wasn't one to scare easily, yet when the black feline materialized on her porch railing between one blink and the next, she couldn't help jumping like a scared kitten.

"Jeez." She put a hand over her racing heart and glared at the cat. "Damn it, Callum. Don't do that."

The cat blinked big green eyes at her.

Wait. Green eyes? Callum's cat had—

"Do what, Deirdre?"

For the second time in as many minutes, Deirdre jumped as her husband's voice sounded at her shoulder. She spun around and, sure enough, Callum stood behind her, in human form, his bright blue eyes gleaming with just a touch of amusement.

Deirdre glanced from Callum to the cat and back. "I thought— Well, he kind of looks like you, and he came out of nowhere, so I assumed you were trying to scare me."

"Why do you assume I would want to scare you?"

"I… well… Isn't that the point of this human holiday of yours? That's why it's nicknamed Spooky Day, you know."

Callum blinked. "You've been talking to Morgan again, haven't you?"

Deirdre shrugged. "He's your best friend. He… knows things."

Callum sighed. "Deirdre, anything you want to know, I can tell you. You just have to ask."

She crossed her arms. "Yeah, well, he's easier. Getting answers from you is like pulling teeth."

"Funny. I thought you liked making men lose their teeth."

“This is different.”

“How?”

“Because- It- It just is!” Deirdre barely resisted the sudden urge to stomp her foot.

Callum seemed to sense it, too. Yet instead of pushing her into unleashing her most childish desires, as he was want to do, he merely said, “All Hallow’s Eve isn’t just about scaring people. It’s meant to be a way for people to face their fears and have fun while they’re at it. That’s why so many dress up for the day.”

Deirdre’s defensive posture relaxed slightly. “Why did Morgan tell me frightening people is your favorite part of the holiday?”

“Because he’s a dumbass.”

This time, Deirdre just waited.

Callum sighed. “Because I’m good at it. Always have been. But I don’t always enjoy it.”

Deirdre believed him. She had seen him among her people. His mere presence terrified many of them. Callum had an excellent poker face, but over time she had learned to see the irritation and - gods forbid - the hurt that often flashed through his eyes when they cowered or fled before him.

“Why are humans afraid of you, Callum?”

Because they didn’t know what she did about the man she called husband. Even his human family was ignorant to the beast he kept hidden within.

In classical Callum fashion, he didn’t answer. He chose not to answer. Instead, his gaze shifted, and he returned the conversation to its original point: the cat.

"You're slipping, firecracker. Not only is that cat not me, but it's also very female."

It meowed at him and stood, back slightly arched in a request for scratches. Callum’s neutral expression didn't change.

Deirdre didn’t want to drop the scare matter. But as stubborn as she knew she was, she also knew Callum was much more so. So she would let it drop - for now.

She spun back to the cat. Sure enough, now that she was looking, she could see that the cat was female. Not only that, but it was also much smaller than Callum’s feline form, and not nearly as clean.

Flushing the color of her hair, Deirdre glared at her husband. "Well, excuse me for being distracted."

"You're excused," Callum said, in that tone guaranteed to get a hiss out of her — which it did.

The irritation faded instantly when his lips twitched into that almost-smile she loved. She still hadn't gotten a real smile out of him, but the almost-smile was becoming more and more common.

"You're a jackass," she told him, but the spitfire was missing from her tone.

A noncommittal hum was his only response. He crossed the porch to the cat and held out a hand, palm up. The cat sniffed his fingers, then pressed her head into him, a purr breaking out. It didn't falter, not even when she almost overbalanced herself and toppled off the railing. Callum scooped her up and held her so they could see her belly.

"She has kittens somewhere."

"Oh." Deirdre stepped closer and ran a gentle hand over the cat's belly. She was skin and bones, but her teats were full. "Where do you think she has them?"

Callum shrugged. He set the cat back down and looked out over the yard. "They can't be that far, if she's here."

"Do you think something happened to them?" Deirdre didn't like that thought.

Callum was unmoved. "It's nature. Anything is possible."

Deirdre smacked his arm. "We need to find them."

Callum's brow furrowed. "Why?"

Deirdre was already marching off the porch. "Because we can't let anything happen to them."

"Isn't that their mother's job?"

"Yeah, and a bang-up job she's doing, sitting there sucking up to my man!"

Callum looked down at the cat; she was staring up at him with adoring eyes, still purring.

"Callum!"

He rolled his eyes. "All right, all right. I'm coming."

As he left the porch, the cat meowed and jumped down to run after him. Callum ignored it. He caught up to Deirdre just as she reached the forest line at the back of the property.

She looked over her shoulder at him and smirked. "Good boy." She patted his cheek.

His hand shot out and captured her wrist. "I am not a dog."

Deirdre slipped her hand free. "Could have fooled me," she trilled, stepping into the forest.

Callum growled and followed.

They hadn't gone far when they heard a pitiful mewl. Deirdre's head snapped around. "There."

"I see it." Callum's equally sharp eyes were locked on the tiny gray kitten stumbling around in the leaves.

The mother cat bounded over to her baby and gave it a few furious licks.

"You watch them," Deirdre said. "I'll find the rest."

"What if there aren't any others?"

She shrugged. "Better to be safe than sorry." She stretched onto her toes to kiss his cheek. "Be right back."

Deirdre stepped back, and between one breath and the next, she transformed. Now a sleek, red-furred cat, she bounded off into the forest, tail in the air.

She poked her head under bushes, sniffed around every hole, and looked high and low. She did not find a nest, or traces of other kittens. She was reluctant to admit that Callum was right, but she couldn’t deny the facts. With a final whisk of her tail, she turned to head back.

And came face to face with the largest wolf she had ever seen. It was frozen in place, ready to pounce, its bright gold eyes locked on her.

Deirdre was so startled she made a rookie mistake. She should have changed forms, a move that likely would have scared the wolf off. Instead, she gave in to her feline instincts and fled.

With a snarl, the wolf lunged after her. Only the bush she ducked under saved her from its killing bite. She shot out the other side, a red streak across the forest floor. The wolf was hot on her heels, the bush only delaying it a moment. Deirdre’s cat was fast, but the wolf was faster. With a final bound, Deirdre was caught.

She yowled. The wolf growled. And the beast snarled.

He stalked from the undergrowth like a ghost.

The cat was the size of a small horse. His midnight fur seemed to absorb the light, making the bright forest murky. He came toward the wolf at a prowl, unrushed and unconcerned.

For good reason. The wolf took one look at him and ran off with a terrified yelp, its tail tucked between its legs.

Even Deirdre wasn't immune to the fear the beast evoked. She crouched, ready to flee like the wolf. Then her eyes found the beast’s. The blue irises were brighter than ever, but still familiar.

The fear melted into a puddle at her paws. “Callum.”

In a flash of light, the beast vanished. Callum stood in its place, his eyes holding onto their bright flame a moment more before returning to their usual blue hue. “Firecracker.”

Deirdre trembled, and then she changed. She was crouched down, the cat still clinging to her mind. Callum offered her his hand. With a deep breath, she took it, and he pulled her to her feet and into his arms.

It took a solid minute for her to find her voice. “I didn’t know wolves lived around here.”

“They don’t,” Callum replied tersely. “Did it hurt you?”

“No.” She shifted to look up at him. “How did you know?”

“I always know when you’re in trouble, firecracker.”

Deirdre sighed. “It was that stupid nose of yours, wasn’t it?”

Callum kissed her nose. “No. The cat grabbed her kitten and bolted like the forest was on fire. I went to investigate, and that’s when I caught the scent of the wolf.”

“Right.” Deirdre leaned back to look up at him. “Why are humans afraid of you?”

Callum gazed down at her for a long moment. When he spoke, it wasn’t the answer she wanted, but she listened raptly regardless.

“There’s a myth around here that speaks of two black cats. One represents good luck, and one represents bad luck. The story goes that the Good Luck Cat would bring prosperity and health to all those she graced with her presence. Anyone she visited would stumble upon money, find lost objects, or get better after being sick for days. And if they fed her a saucer of milk, the good fortune she brought would continue to benefit them for the year to come.

“But her brother, Bad Luck Cat, was known to follow in Good Luck Cat’s wake, bringing hardship and pain. Accidents around home or work, lost items or games, clumsy mistakes from people who aren’t usually accident-prone. People would close their doors and put out dog figurines to try and scare Bad Luck Cat away, before his rotten luck could cancel out his sister’s good work.

“To this day, a lot of people still believe in Good Luck Cat and Bad Luck Cat. They say that one black cat is a blessing, and two black cats are a curse.

“Now, I don’t believe in myths,” Callum concluded. “But I have to wonder how it is that a black cat has found me every year on this night for as long as I can remember. And bad luck, more often than not, has come with it.”

“The luck,” Deirdre whispered. “It was never directed at you, was it? It seemed to come from you. That’s why people are afraid of you? Why they assume you like scaring them?”

Callum said nothing, but his steady, carefully neutral gaze was answer enough.

Deirdre leaned back. “You think you’re Bad Luck Cat.”

He made a low sound of complaint. “Not literally. But I can technically be counted as a second black cat.”

Deirdre shook her head and placed a hand on his cheek. “No, Callum. You’re the first black cat. You bring good luck with you wherever you go, not back luck.”

Callum sighed. “Deirdre, I already told you I don’t actually think I’m-”

“But you do,” Deirdre cut in. “That’s why you brought up the story-”

“I was just answering your question, Deirdre.”

“-And why you didn’t want to find Boo’s kittens-”

“That has nothing- Wait. Boo?”

Deirdre placed her fingers over his mouth. “You knew something like the wolf would happen.”

Callum pulled her hand back down. “First off: I did not know. I’m just predisposed to expect the worst. Second: Boo? Why the hell are you naming the cat?”

“Because we’re keeping her, of course. And little Spook.”

“Spook-? Keeping? I don’t think so-”

Deirdre cut him off with a kiss that time, earning a scowl, but it did the trick. “You’re changing the subject. We’ll talk about our new pets after. First, a bit of loving reassurance.” Callum rolled his eyes but held his tongue. Deirdre continued. “Callum, I can’t speak for all of your All Hallow’s Eve experiences. But last year, the other black cat was Hogan, yes? You met him briefly, the two of you did not get along… and then he left, and that speaker fell on me. Only you pulled me out of the way. That’s a stroke of good luck if you ask me.”

“I didn’t ask you,” Callum muttered.

Deirdre ignored him. “And then this year. I wandered off to find Boo’s kittens and almost got eaten by a wolf - an animal you said doesn’t even live around here. There’s the bad luck. And then you appear, in another stroke of good luck, and scare it away.

“Look, Callum.” Deirdre sighed. She raised her hands to cup his face, to make sure he was looking at her when she said, “I don’t know if you’re the Good Luck Cat or if all those other instances were just coincidence. Frankly, I don’t care. All that matters to me is that you are my good luck charm, and I’ll be damned before I let you convince me otherwise.”

Callum held her gaze. His expression remained blank, but as always, his eyes held a wealth of thoughts and emotions, for anyone willing and daring enough to look.

Deirdre, as always, couldn’t look away.

Finally, Callum spoke. “I guess I can live with that. I just have one request.”

Deirdre grinned. “What’s that?”

Callum leaned in, and a touch of his inner beast sparked to life. “Do not start calling me Lucky.”

Deirdre tried not to smile. “Or what?” she whispered.

Callum growled. “Or you’ll see just how unlucky I can be.”

Deirdre sighed dramatically. “All right, fine, Mr. Spoilsport. No lucky nicknames for you.”

“Good. Now, the other thing.”

Deirdre frowned. “What other thing?”

Callum gave her a flat look. “We are not keeping them.”

She blinked, and then laughed. “We’ll see about that, dear.” She patted his chest, smiling wide. “We’ll see.”