She glanced up at the roof. The next instant, she faded out again. Her eyes pivoted upward and the whites looked out at nothing. He must have been beyond the roof, suspended between the sky outside and the gym’s interior.

  I could just imagine the mayhem that would ensue if a cat dropped out of thin air in the middle of the game. He would cause one whopper of a disturbance for whichever unsuspecting person he landed on top of.

  Libby brought me back to reality by nudging me. She pointed up at the roof where Wanda was looking. A faint, shimmering smear appeared against the steel ceiling. The ceiling blurred and something dark appeared inside it. I surged forward, but the court was full of players running this way and that.

  I rounded on Wanda. She still looked groggy, or maybe she was still drunk from all the martinis she’d had at my house. But she knew exactly what was going on—I could tell by the expression in her eyes—comprehension.

  Her gaze swiveled up to the ceiling.

  “I’ve had just about enough of this cat’s antics!” Libby said and before any of us could do or say anything, she suddenly took off and ran straight for the players. She looked stranger than ever in her fifties house dress, surrounded by high-school basketball players as she darted between them.

  Four almost fully grown high school boys stood directly in front of her. She planted her hands on one boy’s shoulders and vaulted over his head. She moved so fast, she was long gone by the time he realized what was going on. Apparently, being a zombie had its advantages because physical limitations didn’t seem to apply to her.

  Libby’s feet landed on the next boy’s shoulders and she kicked off. She propelled herself in massive leaps and vaulted, launching herself in a high-flying arc, and landed in a crouch right smack in the middle of the court.

  For a split second, dead silence fell over the gym as all the players stopped what they were doing and everyone turned to see her squatting near the free-throw line. Everyone looked completely confused as they tried to comprehend what a 1950s housewife in a floral-print dress with Flubber underneath her shoes was doing in the middle of their basketball court.

  Libby paid no attention to anyone. She rocketed forward and wove through the players at a mind-blowing speed. She rotated between them so fast, the human eye couldn’t see her—she appeared as a blur.

  Meanwhile, the portal in the ceiling widened to let Hellcat through. Libby leaped high one more time and soared toward the spot. A tortured yowl pierced the air as the cat dropped through the opening in the air. He contorted in every possible shape, but he couldn’t fight gravity. He plunged toward the floor and everyone in the gym let out a collective gasp.

  Hellcat plummeted straight down, swished through the net basket like he’d planned the whole thing in advance, and flopped soft and safe into Libby’s arms. She caught him in a cradle hold, like she was holding a football, and pounced to the floor.

  For the longest few seconds I’d ever experienced, everyone just stood there, some with their mouths open as they tried to understand what in the hell had just happened. And I was definitely one of them.

  As for Libby, she held her chin high and with Hellcat cradled in her arms, she stalked forward as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. She walked past all the players and through the double doors and we followed her, not bothering to offer any explanations because we really didn’t have any.

  Once outside, Libby walked up to Wanda, who was now coherent, and deposited Hellcat into her arms.

  “I am not fond of this cat,” Libby said.

  Hellcat didn’t say a thing—he looked too exhausted to even respond.

  Wanda looked from Libby to Hellcat and took a deep breath as she held the cat up by his underarms. “I’m actually glad you’re back, you nasty old dishrag,” she said, completely restored to herself again.

  “Never think, you pestilent troll,” Hellcat managed, “that I will suffer such… indignation and persecution… at the hands of a pack of cadaverous conjurers… without seeking recompense before the law!” As the cat spoke, it seemed his energy was restored to him and by the end of his diatribe, it was as if he’d never suffered such an ‘indignity’ in the first place.

  “Never in all my years have I been subjected to such an atrocity as you have visited on me!” He roared. “I will have you dragged before the constabulary and inculpated to the fullest statutory extent! I will seek vindication and divest you and your defiled cohorts of your ludicrous capabilities! Never deceive yourselves that I am not only fully capable but provoked enough to carry it through!”

  Wanda looked at me. “As you can see, he’s just fine.”

  She worked her way to the Jeep with Hellcat still venting threats and insults, but he nestled close in her arms and didn’t struggle to get free.

  My shoulders slumped as soon as I realized everything was going to be all right.

  Chapter Eleven

  Wanda trailed one painted fingernail over the side of her couch. She stirred it through Hellcat’s fluffy black fur. He was sprawled on his new cat bed on the floor. All four limbs splayed with his tummy exposed for the world to see.

  “Ghastly little hellion!” Wanda murmured. But there was a certain level of relief in her tone, and I had to imagine their relationship would be different from here on out. There’s nothing like the threat of losing someone close to you to make you realize how much they actually mean to you.

  “He definitely had a close call,” Astrid said from where she was sitting, cross-legged, on the floor next to Finn.

  It was Sunday—a day after Libby had saved Hellcat and Wanda had invited us all over for an impromptu party. Now crammed into her smallish living room were Finn, Astrid, Bailey, Darla, Libby and me. Fifi was busily putting the final touches on Hallowed Homes and Marty and the boys were on their way over. Earlier that morning, Wanda had paid a visit to RJ to make sure he wouldn’t remember a thing that had happened.

  “I’m kind of hungry, Wanda,” Finn said. “Do you have any snacks?”

  “Libby, where are the hors d’oeuvres?” Wanda called out to Libby, who was already keeping herself busy in the kitchen.

  “Coming right up!” Libby answered as she sauntered into the living room, carrying a tray with all sorts of bite-sized goodies.

  “I’m just so happy to know Hellcat is home safe,” I said to Wanda as I helped myself to a cucumber sandwich.

  “Believe it or not, Hellcat has been through worse,” Wanda replied with a shrug.

  “Worse?” Bailey asked. “Than that?”

  Wanda nodded. “He lived with my older sisters for decades before he came to me, and he was with my mother for a century before that. Living with my sisters and mother?” she asked as she looked at me. “I’d rather die.”

  “I still feel like this whole thing was my fault. What if Hellcat is traumatized for life?” I said, shaking my head.

  “Does he look traumatized?” Bailey snickered as we all looked at the cat, who was sound asleep, his whiskers twitching. “He looks catatonic to me.”

  “Ha ha, Bailey,” I said. “No more catatonic jokes!”

  She just gave me a little wink.

  “What happened wasn’t your fault, Mom.” Finn gazed down at the feline who was currently lost to a dream and his back legs were jerking.

  “That’s the truth, dollface,” Darla added.

  “It wasn’t your fault, Poppy,” Astrid said as she reached over and patted my leg. Since I’d been teaching her the art of potion making twice a week after school, we’d become close. Astrid was turning out to be a lovely young woman and Finn was growing closer to her with every passing day, just as I was.

  “You’re exactly right, Finn,” Libby said as she untied her apron from around her yellow and white polka-dot 1950s dress. “Your mommy was definitely not at fault. If anything, she did everything she could to save the kitty.”

  “Hellcat was at fault and maybe he’ll learn a lesson from it,” Wanda concurred as she shifted the purple libation in her glass and the sugar sparkled from around the lip of the glass.

  “I understand all that logically, but I can’t help still feeling guilty about the whole thing,” I admitted.

  “Well, don’t,” Wanda said emphatically. “Hellcat has no one to blame but himself. None of this would have happened if he hadn’t been snatching swallows of our booze while our backs were turned.”

  “Or while our backs WEREN’T turned, as it happens,” Bailey added.

  Everyone laughed, and I picked up my drink from the coffee table. “Cheers to Hellcat,” I said.

  Everyone followed suit, and I watched as Wanda knocked the entirety of her drink back and then squinted into the empty glass. “These are delicious, Libby!”

  Libby blushed and then beamed widely. It seemed she was always eager to please Wanda, which wasn’t necessarily an easy thing to do. Thus, whenever Wanda gave her any compliments, Libby seemed only too happy to receive them.

  “Might I remind you all that we still need to come up with a suitable name for this group?” Wanda asked.

  “Oh no, not this again,” Bailey muttered.

  “Wanda, I think it’s safe to say we won’t agree on anything,” I added.

  “Hey, Libby, what did you say was the name of that drink you made again?” Finn asked as he looked at the 50s zombie in question.

  “Oh, it’s called a Black Cat Cocktail.”

  “But yours and Astrid’s are Black Cat Mocktails,” I added as Finn smiled up at me.

  Wanda groaned. “Okay, fine, I give up. We might as well call ourselves The-Friday-Night Get-Together-And-Be-Done-With-It group.”

  “Well, I guess today’s hurrah would be The-Sunday-Night-Get-Together-And-Be-Done-With-It group,” I corrected.

  “Why don’t you call it the Black Cat Cocktail Club?” Finn suggested.

  Everyone looked at him, a twinkle in their eyes.

  Finn shrugged as he continued. “Maybe Hellcat will forgive you someday if you name the group after him? You could immortalize what happened to him and then maybe he won’t be so angry about it?”

  At that, everyone grew silent. I glanced over at Libby at the same time that Bailey and Wanda looked at each other. Darla reached over and patted Finn on the head as Astrid gave him a glowing smile.

  “It does have a certain ring to it,” I said.

  “It sounds perfect to me,” Libby added.

  “It’s got my vote!” Darla said.

  “Mine too,” Astrid added.

  I looked at Wanda. “What do you think?”

  Wanda leaned down and traced her finger through Hellcat’s fur again. “The Black Cat Cocktail Club. It fits, doesn’t it?”

  “I like it!” Bailey said. “Yay, Finn!”

  I picked up my glass. “Here’s to us, then.”

  “Here’s to the Black Cat Cocktail Club,” Wanda added.

  The others lifted their drinks, too.

  Finn and Astrid picked up their mocktails, and we clinked our glasses together and drank to the toast.

  The End

  ~~~~~

  To be continued in:

  French Country Frights

  ~~~~~

  Return to the Table of Contents

  FRENCH COUNTRY FRIGHTS

  Haven Hollow #9

  (Hallowed Homes)

  by

  H.P. MALLORY

  &

  J.R. RAIN

  French Country Frights

  Published by Rain Press

  Copyright © 2021 by J.R. Rain & H.P. Mallory

  All rights reserved.

  Ebook Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  French Country Frights

  Chapter One

  “Oh, just pick someone already, Fifi,” Bea groaned. “They’re all cute. Any one of them will do.”

  “I’m not so sure.”

  “They’re men, not puppies.”

  I laughed to myself, glancing sideways at the men who populated the run-down bar around us. If you lived in Haven Hollow, usually you frequented The Half-Moon Bar and Grill but because I used to work there, I was over the place and then some. So, tonight, Bea and I had opted to visit The Black Bat which was located in a town just south of the Hollow, called Ashington.

  I attempted to buy myself time by picking up my drink and sipping at it as I tried to figure out which one of the men was my favorite. It didn’t take long before I figured out none of them were. And that wasn’t due to the fact that I was fiercely independent or a man-hater. No, I was probably the biggest romantic I knew—all I really wanted in life was a man who loved me for the real me (and not my succubus powers of attraction), a house with a white picket fence and a couple of kids. Oh, and I wanted my new business, Hallowed Homes, to be successful.

  As to my night out with my good friend Bea, I wasn’t sure why I’d even let her talk me into this little errand in the first place. It wasn’t like she was my wingman, er… wing woman. She was my employee and she’d become one of my closest friends.

  Either way, Bea had taken note of how exhausted I was looking lately. It wasn’t much of a stretch for her to figure out why—I wasn’t feeding. It had been so long since the last time I’d had sex, I could barely even remember it. And, as a succubus, sex should have been at the top of my list. But, I wasn’t like other succubae. I wasn’t looking for one-night stands or crazy sex that lasted all night long. I was looking for something meaningful, something real. I was looking for forever, even though ‘forever’ seemed like pie in the sky because I was also completely hopeless when it came to men.

  Regardless, I’d let Bea talk me into coming out for drinks this evening and everyone knew ‘going out for drinks’ also meant cruising the male population. But, none of these guys were really doing it for me, which didn’t seem to matter much to Bea. In general, she could be a bit zealous in her easy assessment of things, including which man I should scoop out of the bar, but she meant well.

  “I’m not… really into any of them,” I answered on a sigh.

  “It’s not like this is a long-term commitment, Fifi,” Bea argued, shaking her head as her Shirley Temple curls bounced around her head. Even though Bea was in her forties, like me, she looked like she was going on twelve with her huge, round green eyes, pert little nose and big smile. Bea was a faerie and she was small, standing only four and a half feet tall. But, her diminutive stature was deceiving. Bea might have been small and slim, but she packed a mean punch, provided by faerie power. Her hair was as fine as the fluff on a dandelion and the same color, though it was always hidden by a hat. Bea liked hats because they concealed her pointed ears from the public (the supernatural community in Haven Hollow was distinctly separate from the human community and we had to keep things that way). Her outfits were equally creative, all of them designed to cover her wings.

  Today she wore a frock dress in the colors of the Spring Court, to which she belonged—pastel pink, mint green and bright yellow. The Fae were separated into four courts—each taking its namesake from the seasons. And the easiest way to recognize which court a faerie, pixie, elf or other fae creature represented was to look at the colors they wore. The Autumn Court was fond of earth tones—deep browns, hunter greens, tans and beiges. The Winter Court would usually dress in icy blues, whites, and aquas. The Spring Court and the Summer Courts were the most difficult to tell apart because both wore pastels.

  “And yet a long-term commitment is exactly what I’m looking for,” I said as I glanced around the room again before bringing my gaze back to my friend. “I’m fairly sure I’m not going to find that ‘long-term commitment’ here.”

  “Taking one of these guys home doesn’t mean you have to keep him, Fifi,” Bea prattled on. “You can keep him for a night and then release him back into the wild tomorrow morning. You don’t even have to feed him before you kick him out,” she continued with a little, bell-like laugh. It was one of my favorite things about Bea—whenever she laughed, it made me want to laugh. “The idea is not for you to feed him, but for him to feed you,” she added with a playful wink.

  Still, I wasn’t interested in one-night stands, especially when a one-night stand wouldn’t get me very far. I’d never be able to let down my guard and truly enjoy myself with a human sex partner because a human man would never be able to withstand my feeding from him.

  It wasn’t like I was a vampire and would bleed a man dry or anything like that. As a succubus, I fed on life force—which might sound just as bad and maybe it was. Regardless, human men didn’t possess the stamina required for a true succubus feeding. So, I couldn’t feed from a human fully, but I could feed from him enough to take care of the bags under my eyes.

  I let out a loud sigh, my shoulders slumping in defeat. Looking around the bar, I could see a number of eyes on me—but that wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. I was used to men’s attention. Given what I was, a sex demoness, men stared at me all the time with longing, hungry expressions. Lately, the attention I’d been getting from the opposite sex was a bit diminished, owing to a repelling potion Poppy had made for me that dampened my sexual attractiveness. No, men didn’t find me repulsive (because Poppy made the potion a weak one), but they also didn’t flock to me like they normally would. The potion simply negated the power of my succubus pheromones and put me on the same playing field as any other woman with decent looks. Men still might be attracted to me on a superficial level, but at least that attraction was just a natural appreciation and not uncontrollable lust driving them to be with me. I could still accomplish that uncontrollable lust if I wanted to, but now I was in the driver’s seat where my abilities were concerned. For the first time ever, I could choose when and where to unleash the true power of my sex appeal rather than having it hovering around me like a constant and unreasonable, passion-pink sex aura.

  “I just don’t know if I’m ready for all this,” I continued on another sigh. “My last boyfriend was a real slug.”