Catalyst

CATALYST TALES OF A WITCH’S FAMILIAR BOOK ONE ALBA LOCKWOOD Copyright © 2022 by Alba Lockwood All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Cover design by Covers by Christian Editing by Zero Alchemy Created with Vellum To my family who believed in me even when this felt like a distant dream. And for anyone who has ever looked at a cat and thought “what an easy life you have.” CONTENTS Chapter 1 Clawdia Chapter 2 Charlie Chapter 3 Clawdia Chapter 4 Margaret Claudia Chapter 5 Zaide Chapter 6 Zaide Chapter 7 Charlie Chapter 8 Clawdia Chapter 9 Zaide Chapter 10 Margaret Claudia Chapter 11 Clawdia Chapter 12 Charlie Chapter 13 Zaide Chapter 14 Charlie Chapter 15 Clawdia Chapter 16 Margaret Claudia Chapter 17 Zaide Chapter 18 Clawdia Chapter 19 Charlie Chapter 20 Clawdia Chapter 21 Clawdia Chapter 22 Margaret Claudia Chapter 23 Clawdia Chapter 24 Zaide Chapter 25 Charlie Chapter 26 Charlie Chapter 27 Clawdia Chapter 28 Zaide Chapter 29 Charlie Chapter 30 Clawdia Follow for more fun Thank you! About the Author CHAPTER 1 CLAWDIA The small clock hand ticked another warning. Mary will be here soon. You’d better hurry, I told the witch rushing around the room, a dark blur picking things from shelves and bringing them to the table. We were in the garage where Winnie, my witch, had set up her workshop. It was soundproof and spell-proof, the inside invisible to human eyes. Which was a terrible tragedy for humans, because it was a lovely space. Winnie had decorated it in bright pinks and deep purples and furnished it with antique wooden cabinets, bookshelves, and a large desk. “I know, I know.” She took a book off the shelf and returned to the desk where I was sitting. “This one is another big one. Are you ready?” Of course. I narrowed my eyes. Why have we been doing so many spells recently? I didn’t mind, of course. I’d have done anything for Winnie, despite my fatigue from the last spell a few days ago. That had been an invisibility charm we’d needed to “test.” But I wasn’t told why. She flipped the book open to the page, and I sneezed as the dusk swirled into the air. When I reopened my eyes, Winnie was holding a finger on the line she needed, her dark skin a contrast to the yellowed pages. I followed the words. A spell for bottled magic. Winnie placed a jar opposite me on the desk. What is this for? Why do you need bottled magic? “No time to explain.” She blew a red curl away from her face and bit her lip as she concentrated on the words in front of her. I huffed, thinking that, if this were so important, she should have done it earlier. But I kept that to myself and went silent. Winnie mumbled under her breath, her eyes shut and her fists clenched. My fur prickled as the spell activated. Magic bled from me; like a tug from my core, power seeped out from my pores in thin clouds and moved in slow, glowing rivulets to the jar before rushing inside like a waterfall and intertwining with the magic Winnie pulled from herself. My heart raced as a small adrenaline rush surged through me—not my own, but an echoed feeling through the bond between my witch and me. As the jar got fuller, my own exhaustion caused my legs to give way, and I lay down. Winnie whimpered when she cut the spell. Closing the lid on the jar, she grinned widely at me. “Oh, Clawdia, you’re so amazing. Every time, I think I’m asking too much of you, but you give me so much power. You’re the best familiar in the world. I’m so lucky to have you.” I preened at the praise, exuding my shy pleasure and embarrassment. She stroked my whole body from head to tail, and I purred. You know I’d do anything for you, Win, I told her. “I know. You’re a gift.” My tail rose in a question mark as I cuddled closer, rubbing my head against her long nails and then over to the jar in her other hand. I stared at it curiously, a feline trait I’ve indulged in this life. What is this jar of magic for? “Oh, nothing important. Anyway, I need to get ready.” She floated out of the room, taking the jar with her. Nothing important? Why would she need bottled magic if it wasn’t important? Do witches usually carry extra just in case? In case of what, though? Do they run out? I'd only been with Winnie for two years, and there was a lot to learn about witches. Get ready for what? I asked as I hopped down from the desk, my paws touching the cold stone floor. My claws splayed as I stretched. I followed her slowly to her bedroom upstairs, enjoying the rhythmic sound of my tip-tapping as I walked. I thought you were spending the day with Mary. The wardrobe doors were open, and she’d thrown her clothes across the floor. My witch stood in only her undergarments as she stared at her options. I jumped onto her bed and made myself comfortable in the messy quilt. “I have to get this right. It’s important that I make the right impression,” she muttered to herself as she trawled through her clothes. I huffed. Exasperated with her ignoring my questions, I drawled, Why would you need to impress Mary with an outfit? She has seen you naked. “You shouldn’t stop trying to impress a partner, Clawds. If you do, then the relationship dies.” I checked the clock on the bedside table, and the glowing green numbers suggested that Mary would be arriving any moment