I felt something heavy on my chest as I clawed my way back to consciousness.
And it was purring.
Of course. Of fucking course.
I peeled open one eye and yep—there he was. Tail flicking, eyes half-lidded, Salem the goddamn cat, lounging on me like I was a sun-warmed grave.
"Get off me, you stupid cat," I croaked, shoving him off with all the strength of a soggy napkin.
He landed on his feet, because of course he did, and meowed indignantly.
"Thank the Old Ones you're awake," he said with a sniff. "I thought you died, so I checked your heartbeat by sitting on your chest. It was very soothing, by the way. Your breathing? Like a lullaby. So I decided to stand guard while I awaited your awakeness—"
I was already sitting up, tuning him out, every joint in my body aching like I'd been hit by a haunted freight train.
"Where the hell were you," I hissed, swaying as I got to my feet, "when I was almost murdered?"
