Me and My Christmas Familiar (An MM Monster Christmas)

Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

T he cat sat back on his heels as Lachlan rushed down the stairs from the apartment.

“Hey, kitty!” Lachlan called out. “You’re early today.” The man wore his black pointed hat and robes. “I have your food inside the bakery. I’ll go get it for you.”

As the man approached the door to the bakery, it swung open, and he stepped inside. Abruptly, the room filled with light.

That seemed odd to the cat, but he couldn’t place his finger on why.

Lachlan turned and paused in the doorway as he removed his hat and hung it by the door. He hesitated. “If you wanted, you could come in. No one is here yet. I can give you food, and I’ll start the fire so it’s toasty warm.”

The cat stared into the bakery.

Over the past few days, he’d come to believe the man would not hurt him. Still, to come into this human room…

“You’ll be safe,” Lachlan said. “I promise.”

All Lachlan’s actions had shown the cat how kind and caring the man was. And still, the cat felt that strange pull, that deep-down instinct that told him coming inside meant warmth and security.

Making a decision, the cat prowled towards the door.

A bright smile lit up Lachlan’s face. He turned away and was back a second later, putting food just inside the doorway.

The cat sniffed at the strips of dried meat before gobbling them down. His stomach had ceased to ache in the days since Lachlan had begun feeding him.

Whilst he ate, the cat eyed the bakery. He could spot no sign of any obvious danger or threat.

Lachlan knelt. He stroked along the cat’s back. The cat arched into the touch. He purred. No one had ever patted the cat before. And Lachlan had such a nice touch. He knew just where to pat and stroke and scratch. And he gave off such delicious warmth. The cat wanted to curl up with the man and steal his warmth.

Then Lachlan stood, taking his pats and warmth with him. “I’ll start the stove, and I’ll put out some more food.”

A moment later, Lachlan set down a plate with some fish on the wooden floor nearer the stove.

The cat glanced out into the dark cold. He suppressed a shiver. After a second, he decided against going back out there. He stepped further into the bakery towards the food, gaze darting around.

“See. It is not so scary, is it, kitty?” Lachlan’s cheeks stretched with the intensity of his smile. He laughed. “I should probably call you something other than kitty if you’re going to be visiting our kitchen.”

The cat began to eat the fish.

“I should give you a proper name.”

Pausing to eat, the cat glanced up at Lachlan. A name? The man wanted to give him a name. He chewed as he thought. He supposed since he’d forgotten the name his parents gave him, it would make sense to get a new one.

And it was nice to have a name. Having a name meant someone was around to use it and talk to him.

“How about Kit the kitty?” Lachlan laughed again. “I’m sorry. I know it isn’t original. I’m not really good at coming up with names. But you think you’d like that, Kit?”

Kit. He considered it, staring up at Lachlan. Why not? He resumed eating.

“I’ll take that as assent. All right. We’ll go with Kit.” Lachlan seemed pleased as he patted him again. “Kit suits you,” he said, voice soft.

Kit. He decided he liked the name.

Lachlan began to move around the stove, and soon it gave off warmth.

Had Kit lived in a place like this once? He remembered a kitchen and a stove. He remembered fire. And he remembered the sounds of his parents’ voices as they spoke.

Lachlan brought Kit more food when he finished the fish, along with more pats. He ran his hands over Kit’s back and head, scratching that delicious spot on the back of his neck.

Soon the warmth of the kitchen, his full belly, and the gentle pats lulled him. He lay out on the floor, close to the stove, watching Lachlan.

“I’m a hearth and kitchen witch.” Lachlan added bits of greenery and dried things to a cauldron on the stove. “I’m considered to be very talented. That’s why I start work before everyone else, to prepare the bakery for the day.”

A hearth and kitchen witch.

Kit didn’t think he’d ever heard of such a thing. But the world was big, and there was much he didn’t know. And there was so much he’d forgotten.

But Kit thought he must like hearth and kitchen witches if they were like Lachlan.

“I live and work with my siblings. We live upstairs.” Lachlan stirred the cauldron. “Our apartment is pretty basic. We share rooms. We all get along most of the time.” He smiled at Kit, a nice smile. “Working down here in the early mornings is the only time I ever get peace and quiet.” He paused. “Although, I’m not entirely alone anymore since you started visiting.”

Then Lachlan reached down to pat Kit. Kit closed his eyes, purring.

“You could stay with me if you wanted.”

Kit opened his eyes.

Lachlan’s hazel eyes stared down at him. “I could look after you. You could be my pet. I’d feed you, keep you warm, keep you safe. I’d like to have you as my pet. I promise I’ll be good to you. And it would be nice to not be alone.”

That did sound nice. That all sounded nice. And Lachlan really was nice. Kit pressed his face into Lachlan’s hand.

A pet. Lachlan’s pet.

No more cold streets. No more empty bellies. No more pain or fear. No more loneliness. They’d be together.

A noise sounded in the street outside. Kit jumped to his feet, gaze flinging around wildly. He looked to the door, which filled with two shadows.