Abracadabra pspsps

      The next morning, Andrew wakes up to his closed door rattling. He watches amazed as Neil’s head pops out from the gap under the door, then the rest of his body follows. Neil shakes himself off like nothing happened and yawns.       ‘Am I still dreaming? ’ Andrew rubs his eyes to wake himself up, but nope, when he looks beside his bed, the damn cat is still there.       “Where have you learned water magic?” he asks. It’s not unheard of that familiars do magic on their own, but the spells are often less complicated ones.       Neil just looks at him. If he was in his human form, he’d probably be grinning like an idiot now. Infuriating. Of course, he doesn’t answer Andrew.       Still, such spells shouldn’t be possible for a familiar, especially an unbonded one. “You areusing magic, right?” Andrew asks.       Again, no answer besides Neil’s tail swishing lazily. Fucker.       Andrew hopes for a quiet breakfast, but of course it’s impossible with Neil. The familiar is constantly trying to take a peek into Andrew’s laptop screen where Andrew has news articles that might help solve the mystery of Agnus. So far no luck, though.       “Quit it and eat your food,” says Andrew, frustrated with his fruitless research.       “You should eat, too.” Neil looks pointedly at a half-finished plate of scrambled eggs that Andrew pushed to the side, but the blond decides to ignore the remark.       “You should shut up,” he says half-heartedly, too focused on the article before him. After reading a few, they look all the same to him: a great tragedy with no suspects or motives. A dead woman but not a single word about Agnus or anyone that was close with her. At this point, Andrew wants to bang his head on the table.       “I can help,” says Neil for a millionth time. If he hadn’t glamoured his ears, they’d probably be flat against his skull, which Andrew definitely shouldn’t find adorable.       Maybe the frustration of the fruitless research is really getting to him because he agrees. Of course, his mind doesn’t make it easy for him, conjuring images of Neil lying half-dead in the rain, the memories twisted into something even more disturbing. But Andrew is a man of his word, and as much as he wants to take back the agreement, his pride doesn’t let him.       So, they finish their breakfast and pack into the car. As he takes a sip of the energy booster Renee has made for him (some herbs mixed with her magic — Andrew stopped asking for such details a while ago), Neil’s nose twitches. Fates help him, because he’s being put to the test here.       “What’s that?” Neil asks with curiosity.       “My morning coffee.” Andrew takes another sip. Hopefully, it’ll boost his magic by the time they reach the destination.       Neil is still looking at him intently. “Why do you need to amplify your magic?” Andrew’s hopes for a quiet ride are dying with every minute. “The ghost ignored me yesterday,” he says mildly. The 'why' is still yet to be answered.       The only reply he gets is a quiet 'Hm' from Neil, and the rest of the trip is spent in a comfortable silence. When he parks in front of the burnt-down house, Neil practically jumps out outside. As he stretches, his T-shirt rides up, showing a glimpse of his back. Andrew really tries not to stare, gripping his travel mug like his life depends on it. He gets out of the car slower than Neil, taking deep breaths to slip into the right mindset.       Renee’s potion must be doing its job, because he feels his magic buzzing under his skin, ready to be let out. The scent of fire still wafts through the air, and from the tense set to Neil’s shoulders, Andrew guesses that the familiar can smell it too. Fire is something Neil has been apprehensive of since he moved in with Andrew, and he gives it a wide berth whenever he can. Andrew isn’t sure if the familiar knows that he noticed.       Neil clears his throat. “So, what’s the plan?” he asks. Andrew can imagine his tail swishing nervously behind him.       “You can stay in the car,” Andrew says.       Of course, Neil refuses.       “I need to speak with the ghost. Look for something that was important to her.” Andrew glances at Neil, checking if he understands.       The familiar nods, his shoulders still tense. Stubborn idiot.       “Change to your kitty form.” Andrew’s lips twitch at the scowl on Neil’s face. “Your senses are too weak now.”       Soon, an orange cat starts climbing up on him, the hoodie’s material not enough to save Andrew from needle-like claws.       “Ouch,” Andrew says emotionless, more for drama than from the actual pain. “Mind the claws, you rascal.”       Neil digs his claws into his shoulder even more. Asshole.       With the new weight on his neck, Andrew goes into the ruined building, his hand ready to stabilize Neil if he loses his balance. It just wouldn’t do if they made fools out of themselves, no?       The little menace seems to be doing just fine, focused on the surroundings. His magic reaches out, looking for any traces of lingering pieces of the woman’s soul. It feels like gentle breeze flowing around and caressing your skin — practically untraceable to most people. Andrew’s magic mingles with Neil’s, twisting around it so they don’t miss any spot in their search.       'Just like with Kevin, ' his mind supplies, and he shoves the thought back into a box where it belongs. There’s no time for such distractions.       There’s a sudden crackle of fire which startles Neil so bad that he nearly falls off Andrew’s shoulders. Andrew catches him, and breathes out deeply through the suffocating smell of smoke.       “She’s here,” he whispers to Neil. The familiar’s body is tensed under Andrew’s hand. “The fire’s just an illusion,” he adds, but it doesn’t seem to help.       “Agnus!” Just as before, the voice seems to originate from the other side of the house. The panicked ghost exits the kitchen, or what’s left of it, and goes into the hall where Andrew and Neil are standing.       When Andrew opens his mouth to speak, the woman halts in front of them. This close, he can feel the cold aura surrounding her.       “Agnus?” she asks, her voice full of hope. For a split second, Andrew thinks she’s talking to him, but then she reaches towards Neil. The crackle of fire is barely audible now, the woman’s memory having lost its strength as she is more grounded in reality. When the ghost’s hand gets closer, Neil’s fur puffs out, and she stills.       “No, you’re not Agnus.” The sorrow in her voice is so strong that it makes Andrew’s heart clench.       The woman turns around and continues her search while they both stand in the hallway, dumbfounded.       'Are you kidding me, ' Andrew thinks to himself. A fucking catis the key to the mystery? The Fates must be laughing at him now.       As they’re nearing their car, Neil jumps down and shifts. His lips are stretched into a grin. Andrew wants to wipe it off.       “Shut up,” he says, which does nothing to suppress Neil’s amusement.       “I didn’t even say anything,” the familiar replies cheekily, his eyes sparkling with mischief. A stray curl falls on his brow, and it’s a test for Andrew’s self-control not to reach out and brush it away. Fates save him.       “Come on,” Andrew says to distract himself from his unnecessary thoughts. “We have a cat to find.”