A Lost Kitten Read online

  Next door, Jasira waved a broom back to its location in the closet. Another wave ignited the candle she had placed on her kitchen table. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. Again, she thanked John for returning her sense of smell.

  A darker thought entered her mind. If she regained her solid form, she would kill Dena. She could not believe the little harlot. How dare Dena set her sights on John? She had no right. Dena was spared Jasira’s fate because she was the daughter of kindred spirits and had been born after the Terrorshan war. The girl should know from her parents that outlanders brought to Surreal were for the people of the mist, not for those who were solid.

  Jasira tried to forget the day she had stumbled upon John in Dena’s arms. After kissing John, Dena had pretended not to see her furious presence. How dare Dena seduce her kindred soul? And how could John kiss that horny little back scrubber after kissing her? Jasira wished she was solid. She would give that washer girl a taste of her own medicine, if not a black eye.

  Since that afternoon, Jasira had backed off from visiting John. She was going to do so, anyway. Her eagerness had made the young warrior curious. He was asking questions about ghosts. Not good.

  Surreal did not need the reputation of being haunted. If that happened, then even less outlanders would visit. Too many citizens would live out their lives as mist. Therefore, Jasira had planned to back off, just a little. But after catching John in another woman’s arms, she did not return.

  It was meant to punish John. However, it was killing her. She wanted to see her kindred soul—to touch him, smell him, taste him. She walked to the window on a whimper. She fiercely missed John. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him standing in front of the school. What was he doing standing there, amidst the shadowy crowd, staring at the building?

  Jasira exited her home and hesitantly approached him. She glimpsed his teeth chattering. Her heart went out to him. John’s senses were more sensitive than other beings. He felt the cold emanating from her people. With so many citizens living within the walls, it was no wonder he could not keep his limbs from trembling.

  Jasira glanced around her. Only a Surrealan could interact with a Surrealan in mist form. She looked back at her shivering kindred soul. She had to get him away from the others.

  She saw John take a hesitant step forward. He was going to the school. That was not where she wanted him to go. He needed to head to her place. Not knowing what else to do, Jasira jumped in front of John and told him to stop. He walked through her.

  Jasira pressed her lips together in frustration. She turned around. She noticed John had stopped walking. He was scanning the area with a baffled expression. Had he felt her? She had an idea. Smiling, she walked up to him.

  John was confused. Why did he suddenly feel a wave of warmth hit him? The fragrance of vanilla was strong. He surveyed the area. A few children played in the distance, kicking a raggedy-looking ball around. Several warriors patrolled the high walls, above and below. The stable man was tidying up the space around his barn. And the farmer and his wife were setting up their fruits and vegetables for sale.

  None of it could explain the sudden decrease in cold. John’s teeth stopped chattering. The warm air was filtering through the layers of his clothes. Unexpectedly, the warmth disappeared as quickly as it appeared.

  “What the…? No!” John spun in place.

  He did not want to grow cold again. He reached out and felt the air, looking like a blind man trying to find his way. He felt foolish doing it, but he was tired of being cold. Ah! He found it—a warm spot. John quickly stepped into the middle. The warmth touched his cheeks. He sighed. It disappeared.

  “Damn,” he swore. He reached out again.

  He found it. He lost it. After a few minutes, John realized he was nearing the small house next door. Was the warmth coming from the house? Or was the warmth leading him to the house? John decided it made no difference. Ghost or not, he was not staying out in the cold any longer. He went to the house and knocked on the door.

  Jasira was already inside. She waved her hand and the front door opened. John felt the warmth from indoors immediately touch his cheeks. He hurried inside, not wanting the precious heat to escape.

  The smell of vanilla filled his nose. He quickly slammed the door shut, then apologized. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t want your heat to escape.” He turned around. “Thanks for letting me—” he stopped talking.

  No one was in the room. He called out. No one answered. Strange. His sights paused on the vanilla scented candle. Someone must have lit it. He scanned the two-room house. The place was immaculate, like he had glimpsed through the window. Whoever lived there was a tidy person.

  John paused at the table and inhaled. The candle’s smell eased the tension from his muscles. He took a seat on the wooden rocker positioned under the window. The kitchen was small but cozy. The only pieces of furniture in the room were the rocker and the small table with four chairs.

  John reached for the top button of his jacket. He was no longer cold. In fact, he was getting hot. With a smile, he took off his jacket and two of his three shirts. At last, he had found a hot spot on the planet. He had to meet the owner and beg them to let him stay until Bogdan returned from his trip.

  He heard a loud growl. John grimaced at the thought of leaving the warm house and returning to the cold castle to get something to eat. His stomach rumbled again.

  “Growl all you want. I’m not going out there right now.” He sat back in the rocking chair and closed his eyes. He ignored his hunger and enjoyed not being cold.

  A few minutes later, he opened his eyes and scanned the kitchen for something that looked like a refrigerator. He hoped the owner would not mind if he had a snack. He found no refrigerator. He searched inside the cabinets. They were all bare. Odd. There was no stove, but a fireplace with a medium-sized cauldron. His eyebrows lifted. He hoped whoever lived there was not a witch. He disliked witches as much as ghosts.

  John re-entered the second room in the house. The bedroom. It contained a queen-sized bed, perfectly dressed in a white, hand-stitched quilt and decorative pillows. Definitely a woman’s bed. He hoped she did not have a jealous husband.

  He combed the room for something that could give him more of an insight into the woman who lived there. He found nothing in the dresser at the foot of the bed and only bedsheets and quilts in the long chest that was off to one corner.

  John examined the fireplace on the opposite wall, to the right side of the bed. There was no soot. In fact, it looked like it had never been used. He glanced around. Outside of the furnishings and bed coverings, the bedroom was empty, like the kitchen. He did not even find any dust.

  If whoever lived there was gone, why would she leave a candle lit in the kitchen? That was unsafe. Maybe she forgot the candle was lit. He wondered if she would mind him bunking in her house for a while.

  John checked the softness of the mattress by lying down on the bed. Good enough, he thought, since it was really the heat he was after, not the comforts the little house provided. John lay there for a while, feeling very comfortable. Then again, he thought, heat is part of comfort. Heat and a relaxing scent. He drifted off.

  When John woke up from his catnap, his hunger bordered on starvation. He gasped at recalling the burning candle on the table. He ran into the kitchen and noticed it was gone. Did he imagine the candle? No. Its faint smell lingered in the air. Someone must have entered and put it away.

  How was that possible? He was a McCall. His senses should have awakened him if someone neared him. How could someone have gotten past him a second time? Was he that tired from enduring the cold? John bundled up and headed back to the castle, deep in thought.

  During a quiet lunch with the king, John asked Yudit if he knew who lived in the small house beside the school.

  “Yes, that’s Jasira Eversole’s houz.”

  “Jasira Eversole?”

  “The headmistress.”

  “Head mistress?” repeated John.
The word created a negative image in his head. First a back scrubber, now a head mistress. He wondered if this place respected women.

  The king stared at him. “Headmistress of the skool.”

  John quickly understood. “Ohhh.” He chuckled. He felt relieved and foolish for thinking the worst.

  “Why do you ask?” asked Yudit before scooping a forkful of food into his mouth.

  “I was wondering if you knew where she went.”

  “Why?”

  John reached for his mug. He replied before drinking his tea. “No offense, Lord Yudit, but I wanted to ask her if I could stay at her house until I leave Surreal.”

  “Why? Has someone offended you here?”

  John shook his head. “No, not at all.” He stabbed his meat with his fork. “It’s just…I’m freezing my butt off here.”

  The king scanned John’s bundled form.

  “In fact, the only place I’ve felt warm was at the school or at Jasira’s house.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. Do you know where I can find her? Do you think she’ll mind if I stay there for a while?”

  “Well, Jasira is hard to find.” Yudit reached for his goblet.

  “What do you mean?”

  Yudit took several swallows of his wine. “She’s a very busy woomuhn.” He placed the goblet down. “She’s either running errands, working with the midwahyf Nadia, or working at the skool.” He motioned for a maid to refill his goblet.

  “Sorry, what is midwahyf Nadia?”

  “Nadia delivers infants.”

  “Oh! You mean midwife and her name is Nadia.”

  Yudit nodded.

  “Sorry. So when do you see Jasira?”

  “When I’m lucky.” He nodded his thanks to the maid.

  John’s features turned desperate. “I have to find her. Do you think she’ll mind if I stay there?”

  Yudit’s sights roamed over John’s clothes. “You say you are freezing while we are in peak season?”

  “Can’t you tell?” spoke John through chattering teeth.

  “And the only places you feel warm are at the skool and at Jasira’s hohm?”

  “Yes.” John sneezed. “Great.” He shivered. “I need to get warm before I get sick.”

  “I see.” Yudit stared at his plate.

  Since John’s arrival he had been searching for a way to get John and Jasira together without giving John more cause for suspicions. It was why he had made certain no one gave John work, leaving John available for Jasira to earn his trust. This was the perfect opportunity for Jasira to be alone with her kindred spirit—the chance to begin earning John’s trust and love in earnest.

  “My lord?” John called his attention back to his pleading features.

  “I do not think Jasira would mind at all.”

  John slouched in his seat in relief.

  “I will have someone aid you in carrying your things to Jasira’s hohm.”

  “No need,” John said. “I’m wearing them all.”

  The king held John’s serious gaze for a moment, then joined him in laughing.

  The king swallowed another forkful of food. “I do believe Jasira has nothing edible in her hohm.”

  “Why is that?” John asked, sipping his hot tea.

  “She is rarely hohm.”

  John nodded.

  “I will expect you to endure the cold to come here for your meals. However, I will have my men take some firewood and other items to Jasira’s hohm to make your stay more comfortable. I will also send edibles to sustain you between meals.”

  John sneezed. “Thank you, sire.” He reached for his mug and noticed his tea was gone. He motioned for the maid to refill his mug.

  King Yudit genuinely smiled. “There is a well behind her houz.”

  “I’ll remember that.” John acknowledged the maid. “Thank you.” He sipped the hot liquid. “Is Jasira married?” His question seemed to take the king off guard.

  “What makes you think she is?”

  “Nothing. I was hoping she didn’t have a jealous husband I needed to be aware of. I don’t want him coming home unexpectedly and finding me in her bed.”

  The king smiled. “I think the only person you need to worry about is Jasira.”

  “Is she going to be angry?”

  “Normally, without her consent, yes.” Yudit drank more wine. “But considering the situation, I know she will be fine with this.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Let’s just say…I know things. Jasira would be honored to have a Seacat in her hohm.” Yudit filled his mouth with food.

  “I’ll make sure everything stays the same. I won’t touch anything unless I have to. And if I do, I’ll make sure nothing happens to it.”

  Yudit nodded. “Jasira would be pleased and grateful to you. I gave her that houz when she took on the position of headmistress. Her pairunts gave her all her possessions. Her fahder put his heart and soul into making furniture for his only dawder. Her muhder placed her undying love into every stitch of material you find in Jasira’s hohm. It was difficult for them both, but they were determined to give their dawder all the materials she would need to start her life’s journey.”

  This insight moved John. It was the same with his family. They were extremely tight, which was why he wanted to go home. He needed to find them and help them with the war. He also wanted to repay Daehog for the death of so many innocent lives on Sea Base Ten.

  John scooped up some more food. “I must have missed her. There was a vanilla-scented candle burning on her kitchen table.”

  “Her favorite fragrance.”

  John swallowed. “Mine, too.”

  “Really?”

  John nodded. “She must have forgotten she left it burning.”

  “Jasira forgets nothing.” Yudit regarded John intently. “One always know when Jasira is close. Her scent announces her presence.”

  John considered his words. “Was Jasira at the dinner feast?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you aware if someone else wears that scent?”

  Yudit shook his head no. “That is one of the many things that make Jasira unique. During Jasira’s youth, her muhder gave her a gift that contained that fragrance. Jasira fell in love with it. Since then, the only fragrance she uses is vanilla.”

  John went silent for a while as he ate his food. He mulled over what the king had revealed. Jasira was the owner of the vanilla scent. It made sense why he smelled her at the school. She was the headmistress. He had smelled her at the festivities because she was there. What about when he smelled her in his room?

  “Are there any secret passageways in this castle?”

  “If I tell you, then it would not be a secret,” Yudit casually replied.

  By his response, John concluded there were hidden passageways throughout the castle. It must have been Jasira who kissed him. His heart accelerated. While he ate, he casually touched his lips with his right index finger’s knuckle.

  John was unable to forget that incredible kiss. He had searched everywhere for the owner of that scent, believing it would lead him to his kisser. He was right. They were connected. And now he would be staying in her house. His soul trembled with excitement at the thought of experiencing that kiss again. He had to know more about his daring secret admirer.

  “Is she young?”

  “Very.”

  “Is she attractive?”

  “Very.”

  “Then why isn’t she married?”

  “No one has ever captured her heart.”

  “I know that feeling.” John took a bite of food and swallowed. “I couldn’t find anything in the house that spoke of Jasira. Can you give me insight into who she is?”

  “Why do you want to know?”

  John shrugged, though it could not be seen underneath the layers of clothes. “I’m half-feline. It’s in a feline’s nature to be curious.”

  “I see. And you get this half from who?”

  “
My mother. She’s an Oceanan. Oceanans evolved from felines. My father is an Earthling. A human. Nonfeline.”

  The king nodded. “Jasira is an interesting woomuhn. Unique in many respects.”

  “How’s that?”

  “For one thing, she does not frighten easily. She sees life as a challenge, and she’s not afraid to confront it. I’m told she is not an easy woomuhn to be around; she likes to take charge and direct others on what to do.”

  “Those are not necessarily bad traits.”

  “She’s intelligent and hardworking. Dedicated to her stoodntz, famuhlee, and fends.” Yudit pointed to himself. “And to me. She is a patient and understanding woomuhn, but if you cross her…you will regret it.”

  John smiled. Jasira sounded like the type of woman he was looking for—strong-willed, independent, and family-oriented.

  “Do you have any idea where she could have gone? Maybe to visit her parents?” John suggested.

  “She visits them often.”

  “Do they live nearby?”

  “No. It’s a four-day journey on foot to get to their hohm.”

  “Who escorts her?”

  “Jasira accepts no escorts.”

  “What? Why?”

  “That’s Jasira.”

  “That’s insane. Granted, I don’t know much about what goes on beyond those walls, but I can guess those walls were built for a very good reason.”

  “You are very perceptive.”

  “Why do you allow her to go alone?”

  “I do not allow anything. I am the king, not her permanent mate. Jasira has no permanent mate to keep her from leaving the sitee alone. Perhaps if she commits to a lifetime companion, he will be able to stop her. Until then, Jasira listens to Jasira.”

  John gritted his teeth. He knew how pigheaded some women could be. His home was full of them, all descended from his stubborn mother or willful aunt. The men were periodically bailing the women out of trouble. He prayed Jasira did not find herself in a dangerous situation; he did not know where she was to be able to help her.