Page 47 of Christmas Magic

“Other cats do it all the time.”

“They’re strays.”

“Yeah, but I’m also not an ordinary feline. Remember, I have human intelligence—”

“—that you don’t use,” Rose said.

Galahad growled. “Ha-ha.”

“You’re staying here,” Molly said firmly. “We all are.”

“We need to mind the store while Lucian’s”—Marigold waved her paw close to her head—“you know.”

Molly’s gaze strayed to the special shelves of cursed antiques. Until Lucian was his normal self again, she bore the responsibility for keeping the items from escaping and wreaking havoc. Or worse.

A shiver ran through her. How woefully unprepared she felt. The sooner Lucian was back to his normal self, the better.

Molly opened the top folder. She’d skimmed some of it earlier but hadn’t found any information that matched the situation she faced.

Three hours later, after answering seven phone calls, assisting four customers, and going through two thick files, Molly rubbed the back of her neck. “I need a break.”

“Go and get some fresh air,” Petunia murmured. “We can watch the shop.”

“We certainly can,” Rose said. “The phone calls can go to voice mail for the next little while. If a customer enters the store, Daisy will run and fetch you.”

Tears pricked Molly’s eyes. “Thanks, Girls.” Picking up her mug of Earl Grey tea that had gone cold a while ago, she headed for the store’s rear door.

Before she could step outside, a golden blur raced past her.

“Galahad? What—?”

“It’s my duty to watch over you.”

Aww, how sweet. “Thanks, but this is a pretty safe parking lot.”

“Still, I shall stay close to you. You do, after all, belong to my lord.”

“Belong? That’s a pretty archaic notion.”

“But true.” Galahad set a paw to his chest. “Bound by the undeniable love in your hearts, you belong to each other.”

“Did you make that up? I’m impressed.”

The feline sat on his haunches. “Many centuries ago, when I was a young and smitten lad, I wrote a few poems. Nothing remarkable. Still, Lucian would never forgive me if anything bad happened to you while he was not quite in his right mind.”

Molly sipped her tea. “You’re very chivalrous.”

“Nah. Selfish, more like it. If you didn’t belong to Lucian, I’d try to win you for mys—” He tensed. His hackles rose.

“Trouble?” Molly’s pulse sped up.

Tilting his face, the squire sniffed the breeze. “The intruder.”

“The Dealer?” Oh, God, she’d never thought she’d have to fight one by herself.

“Not The Dealer. A cat.”

Her gaze skimmed the parking lot. Past Lucian’s Mini, from the weeds behind the dumpster, came a faint mewing sound.