WET PUSSY

All night, the storm lingered over Blackthorn City like a restless guest, hitting the rooftops like fists on locked doors. Streets ran like rivers, neon signs sputtered in the downpour, and the few pedestrians who dared to venture out moved like ghosts blurred by rain.

Selene March wasn't expecting visitors not at this hour, not in this weather. Yet something scratched at her apartment door.

Not the knock of a neighbor. Not the shuffle of human hands.

Scratch Scratch Pause Scratch.

Her pulse quickened. The storm outside howled as she crept closer, barefoot on the cold tiles, the hairs on her arms lifting like needles of static. She hesitated, then pulled the door open an inch.

There it was.

A cat. Black as midnight, its fur plastered to its frame by the rain, eyes gleaming with unnatural intensity. The drenched creature sat perfectly still, tail curled around its soaked paws.

It should have looked pitiful. Instead, it looked like it had been waiting.

Selene almost laughed at herself. "Just a cat," she whispered, though her voice sounded unsure even to her own ears. She bent low, the metallic tang of the storm heavy in the air, and the cat hissed softly as though warning her.

She was about to close the door when her eyes shifted past the creature, toward the glass window across the hall.

That's when she froze.

A handprint.

Pressed against the outside of her rain-slicked window. Fingers splayed, dripping red.

Selene stumbled back, breath caught in her throat. Her mind screamed to run, to call someone, anyone-but the cat slipped past her legs into the apartment before she could react.

The lights flickered.

The storm raged.

And Selene realized she wasn't alone tonight.