Cat and the Cryptid Spring Episode Seven

Cat and the Cryptid Summer by Raspberry | Content Warnings

In hindsight, having a sleepover with a cute vampire who never slept and thus never had bedhead might not have been the best idea. 

Cat woke up feeling the drool next to her lips already dried and flaking. Her eyes were, no doubt, crusted. Judging from the fact she was still on the floor of the living room and surrounded by books, she must have crashed mid-research. 

“Morning,” Anne said from the sofa, curled up with a large volume resting on her lap. “Sleep okay?”

“Um,” Cat murmured, slowly pushing herself into a seat. “Yeah, I think. How long was I out?”

“Not as long as that one,” Anne replied, nodding at a pile of blankets across the room. “Bree passed out first, but you managed to fall asleep in the middle of your own sentence. I feel like that deserves some extra points.”

Cat felt her cheeks flush, and her fingers flew to her hair, which had tangled itself around her headband.

“Don’t worry, the books haven’t changed since last night,” Anne continued, closing her book with a sigh. “All signs are pointing to Fae magic, but it makes no sense. Why would they be clowning around like this when they’re in the middle of a power struggle?”

“Clowning around?” Cat repeated with a raised brow.

“Ugh, don’t tell me that’s outdated now,” Anne said with a groan. “Honestly, as soon as I get a hang of new slang, it dies and I have to start all over again.”

“Untold struggles of an immortal?” Cat teased. “How tragic.”

“Well, there are worse things than having to change your language every few years,” Anne said, glancing at the pile of blankets.

As if on cue, Bree whimpered, sending the blankets into a spasm. Cat started to rise, but Anne placed a hand on her shoulder and shook her head.

“It’s better not to wake her,” she said. “I tried once and almost lost my hearing.”

“How?”

“Have you ever heard a banshee scream? Trust me, they are not to be startled.” Anne’s expression softened. “I can’t imagine the dreams she must have. She sees death every day without fear, but something in her subconscious has her terrified.”

Cat was silent. She never considered that, especially since Bree always seemed so collected. Apart from the red eyes, she’d even be almost normal. Trying to align that with the thought that Bree literally saw clouds of death all the time… Cat felt a sudden urge to wrap Bree into more blankets, like a cushion against the rest of the world. 

A buzzing sound pulled her from her thoughts. Anne picked up her phone.

“What happened to being ‘on my own’ until Ms. Peregrine comes back?” Anne teased, before the smile dropped from her face. “What do you mean? How?”

“What’s wrong?” Cat asked.

“Yeah, I’ll be over there in a sec.” Anne hung up. “There’s… something you should see.”

Cat and Anne both stood up.

“Should we wake her?” Cat asked.

“No, you stay here. I’ll run over and take pictures. It’ll be faster if it’s just me,” Anne replied. 

“But what if people see–”

“Trust me, that’s the least of your worries.”

In about ten minutes, Cat had put on a pot of coffee and brushed her hair (and washed her face and possibly used some concealer to make herself look less tired, but that was besides the point). Bree was just waking up as Anne knocked on the door.

“Come on in!” Cat called, pouring three cups of coffee. “Anyone else want toast? Or cereal?” 

“You should look at these first,” Anne replied, plopping on the table and handing over her phone. “Between me and the other Tennials, we probably saw about a dozen of them all over town.”

Cat exchanged the phone for a cup of coffee. Bree leaned over, her hair tickling Cat’s shoulder, as they swiped through images. It looked like large billboards had been uprooted and dumped in front of the hospital, the diner, City Hall, and other locations Cat didn’t recognize. 

“All places with at least a couple Cryptids,” Anne said, answering before Cat could even ask her question. 

“Those signs aren’t from around here,” Bree noted. “Why would someone do this? Those things aren’t light. Or small. And it’s not like we even have a Red Cross in town.”

“But look at the sign,” Cat pointed out. “It’s asking for blood donations. In front of the hospital. Isn’t that where some of the Tennials work?”

Anne nodded, scowling at her phone. 

“And City Hall has a dog grooming sign. Appropriate joke, if only anyone else understood it,” Anne added.

Cat recalled the mayor, who she had met once in his human form and again in his werewolf form. But that side of him was so unknown, she thought the mayor didn’t even know he was a werewolf.

“I guess the ‘we all scream for ice cream’ is a bad Banshee joke?” Bree asked, reading the sign in front of the diner.

“Ignore it,” Anne said.

“How can I? There are so many signs to choose from, and they went with this?” Bree shook her head. “I’m more disappointed than anything.”

She met Cat’s eyes and gave a small smile.

“Yeah, very weak,” Cat agreed. “If they’re going to be childish, they might as well commit to getting in good burns.”

“I mean, I guess we’re lucky they’re just mild jokes,” Anne said. “But just because it’s not that serious doesn’t mean whatever we’re dealing with is harmless.”

“Wait,” Cat said, feeling a sudden spark. “Not that serious?”

“Annoying, yes. Possibly dangerous, yes,” Anne said, counting off on her fingers. “Potentially exposing Cryptids to humanity–”

“No, no, listen. They led travelers astray. They’re playing a lot of tricks that are relatively harmless in nature. They’re creating confusion,” Cat said, looking between the two. “I think I know what we’re dealing with here.”