So that’s pretty much it.” I concluded, wrapping up my explanation. “The boss wants me to go undercover at a meet-up for firearms enthusiasts and look out for either supernatural entities, or NFA violations.”

I had finished loading a few cylinders worth of silver bullets. While disappointed that the metal shrank too much for me to load them into .45 long colt, the “quintessential” cowboy cartridge, .44-40 is nothing to sneeze at. So, with my silver bullets prepped, I had continued on to drawing up protective charms while sitting at my kitchen table, glass of wine in hand. As to the nature of the protective charms, I was planning on trying a few different kinds to deal with the presumed risk I might have to face.

I’m still not completely sure which charms would be the most effective, so I was taking the approach of throwing a bunch of things at the problem to see what sticks. While not the most efficient way of problem solving it seemed like the safest, although I was likely appropriating several other cultures with the half-remembered symbols I was drawing. But it’s not like anyone was looking over my shoulder, and if it works it works.

“And you’re just going along with it?” Liah asked, leaning nonchalantly against the kitchen wall.

“I suppose I can at least look out for things going bump in the night. Anything else, I’d rather leave to someone else. Ruining someone’s life just because the barrel on their AR is a bit too short just seems stupid, and the odds are anyone actually encouraging illegal activity would just be another fed anyways. You can never trust them.” I paused for a moment, then continued, “Just look at the mess my boss got us into.”

“Considering you cursed a few people, you can’t exactly claim to be free of fault.”

“Is causing a little lactose intolerance really grounds for blackmailing me into this kind of dirty work?”

“It seems so, considering you’re going along with it. Anyways, do you really think there might be other people undercover there?”

“Undoubtedly, they love crashing this kind of thing. This group isn't using the ‘M’ word however, so the odds are it’ll be less than half of them actually employed at any sort of 3-letter agency, rather than the usual majority.”

“You must be exaggerating.”

“Feds arresting other undercover feds in militias for proposing illegal activities in an attempt to entrap people is one of the more hushed up scandals of our time. Usually it ends up being a major clusterfuck from a legal standpoint. Which is while I’ll just keep my mouth shut if I do see anything illegal happening. I wouldn’t want to get in the way of my fellow narcs while they’re working. And if someone has an illegal firearm and they aren’t actually a fed, well, it’s a free country, at least on paper. Who am I to deny someone their unalienable rights protected by the Constitution?”

“A witch like you referencing Paine is rather absurd. Weren’t most of those people strict Christians? And here you are going about cursing people with the evil eye and summoning faeries to sour their milk. Someone like that shouldn’t be getting caught up in the fine points of morality and unalienable rights.”

“I believe natural rights are said to be endowed by ‘God, nature or reason.’ It’s an either/or deal isn’t it, not requiring a specific faith? And what’s more natural than calling on forces of nature and the universe to enact my will? It’s totally natural. People have been doing it for millenia, far longer than codified laws have existed. You could argue that witchcraft is just as protected as any other of the natural rights mentioned in the constitution,” I concluded.

“Are you really using all this pretentious philosophical talk to justify not doing your job? Besides, all the natural, unalienable rights in the world wont stop the ATF from shooting your pet after framing you for a National Firearms Act violation.”

“That’s why I seek to be a force of change. As a federal agent, is it not my duty to protect the Constitution of the United States?”

“You mean that thing you stole a while back?”

“…that was the Declaration of Independence.”

“Close enough, Ms. Cage. I know you want to be lazy, but I hope you realize I’m caught up in this as well, as your familiar. I don't want to get screwed over because of your work. Is this job going to be dangerous?”

“I can’t imagine it’d be too dangerous. While yes, I’m being lent to the ATF specifically because of the possibility of a supernatural threat, the odds of something happening are incredibly small. We’ll be surrounded by a bunch of heavily armed people, and from what I’ve read that many people with a focus on a topic that’s so purely rational in form and function tends to make supernatural stuff far less likely to occur.” I finished off my glass of wine, then went to the fridge to grab a beer before continuing. “I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“But you haven’t even said what we’d be facing.” Liah protested.

“No idea. When I wrote the initial report, I kind of just compared online stories about missing persons with settlers accounts and first-hand accounts of native customs and supernatural experiences. For some reason most the people online when describing these things call them Skinwalkers, except that is clearly not what they are. Skinwalkers come from a Navajo sorcery tradition, based on my admittedly limited knowledge of the subject, and while both stories involve someone or something shapeshifting and attacking people that doesn’t mean both things have the same root.”

“The overall trend, at least from the stuff online, begins with hearing weird noises from outside the light of the fire, that often begins to imitate the speech of some of the people in group who are out camping in the woods. Often, someone will go off from the group to use the head, and when they ‘return’ there’s something off about their expressions or manner of speaking. A sharp, coppery scent like blood will often be present, and people from the group will go missing, presumably dead and eaten.”

“While at first people online would call these things ‘skinwalkers,’ even they realized that wasn’t at all accurate, so now they call them fleshgaits. I suppose the imitating voices to lure people into the woods is similar with Wendigos, as well as numerous other supernatural spooky things found in folklore all over the world, but there’s a clear pattern to these stories that differs from most other cases. And while most people just believe they’re some sort of creepypasta posted online for reactions, there’s been enough cases documented by the Forest Service and NPS that it’s a legitimate concern for their workers.”

“You’re saying our primary source of information is internet rumors?” Liah asked, rather concerned.

“At least we have more evidence than most journalists do for their stories, and all sorts of people believe that bullshit. But I guess evidence that is exists alone isn't enough to explain what it is. From what I’ve read, the leading theory is some sort of curse on the wilderness, likely a powerful one. It could also be demons, or maybe fairies. Maybe a cryptid. At the very least, we can rule out skinwalkers. Those are closer to sorcerers, who curse people and turn into…animals…” I trailed off, giving Liah a searching look.

Her brow furrowed as she angrily replied, “You’re the one having me curse people! Besides, I’m clearly not a Navajo sorcerer! And I’m a cat, not a coyote!”

“Okay, sorry! It was just a thought, that the two things are a bit similar!”

“I didn’t choose to be able to shapeshift, I was born this way. Grouping me in with anyone who turns into an animal is insulting for both parties. How would you like it if I started going off about how you’re just like an old hag like Baba Yaga?”

“Hardly! I’m still young. I’m more of a Morgan le Fay type figure than anything else!” The nerve of her, comparing me to a wrinkly old hag.

“Half the things out of your mouth are complaining about your back hurting. That’s like, peak ‘old-person.’ And you’re far from being like Morgan le Fay. Isn’t she supposed to be an enchantress? With how you dress it’s rather hard to call you enchanting.”

“Oh?” How dare she! I can totally be enchanting if need be.

Abruptly rising, I turned to face Daliah where she stood leaning against the wall. Slowly, I lifted her chin, looking into her dark-blue eyes as I leaned in closer. At first she seemed transfixed, completely unsure what to do as cat ears appeared on the top of her head. A reddish tinge began to appear on her cheeks, deepening as she broke her gaze with me to stare into the corner. Her ears started to twitch.

As it dawned on me what I had just done I could feel my face growing hot. I really shouldn’t have let her get to me like that. Despite being forced into a marriage, we’re really nothing more than classmates, witch and familiar relationship aside. Even if she does call me old, or imply I’m past my prime, I shouldn’t do anything rash.

But, those ears are absolutely fucking adorable. The twitching cat ears, combined with that blushing, bashful look is just too much. Slowly, my embarrassment gave way to a powerful but dangerous urge. This was something I would never have thought I’d see in real life and, having been deprived of what I thought was just a regular pet cat, I’ve been going through serious withdraws when it comes to having something to pet. My left hand began to move as if it had a mind of its own, reaching to scratch the cat ears in front of me.

I came to my senses, and turned back to the table. I just can't treat my classmate as a pet. That’s just too far. Turning back to the table and returning to drawing out charms, an awkward air hung over the room. The scratch of my pen dominated for a while, until finally, Liah spoke.

“So…are you sure these charms will work against the…whatever it was we might have to face?” She hesitantly asked. Her ears had gone back to normal, and the blushing had faded, but she still seemed on-edge.

“One of them is bound to at least do something. I think. Rather, I hope. If that doesn’t work, then ‘reject training, magdump into trash’ is always an option. And same with the silver bullets. Silver is usually acknowledged to be a pure metal, so it should work just fine against any sort of unpure, harmful curse. And again, if all else fails, we can just shoot at it until it's killed. That's bound to work.”

“Okay…” she trailed off, seeing unsure.

“Worst case scenario, I have other spells I can cast, don’t I? And I have a responsible, helpful familiar who can help me cast them, so things are sure to work out.” As I finished speaking, the red tint to her cheeks that had begun to fade came back with a vengeance.

“I..I think I’ll go clean the rest of the house,” she managed to sputter out. “Honestly, you’re such a slob, and since I’m living here now I don’t want to deal with dirty clothes all over the floor, or tools or books scattered about the place. At least one of use should act like an adult and show a sense of responsibility, especially with how much of a mess you seem to make.”

I looked back to the charms on the table. It's more cluttered rather than being messy, but if she's open to cleaning, I'm all for it. Maybe she might like a proper uniform for it? I do have some black cotton in my stash, and plenty of eyelet lace for an apron. If I could talk her into keeping her cat ears out for it, the outfit would be perfect!

Motivated by this plan, I returned to my work making charms.