Fangs and Fur- Beta Read Along
All rights reserved. Copyright © 2025 by LA Magill. All distribution rights reserved for the exclusive use of Wicked Women LLC.
Steam billowed from the hot mug of coffee as the chill of the pre-dawn air rushed through the open back door. Dili took a deep breath, enjoying the rich aroma rising to her nose as much as the fragrant smells of her garden beyond. She felt a brush of fur against her leg as the black cat who’d chosen her darted out into the darkness.
Grinning, the short black-haired witch closed the door behind them and walked to the small wrought-iron chair at the center of the garden. She set her mug on the matching table, next to a beeswax candle. She clasped her fingertips around the candle wick and focused. Sparks flashed, making her vibrant pink eyes momentarily flash red. She let go of the suddenly lit candle, brushed a bit of ash off her fingers, then fished her croissant out of her pocket. She didn’t mind a few crumbs.
She nibbled the pastry in silence, still standing, listening to her familiar stalk his prey through the lush herbs, bushes, and flowers. There wasn’t even a squeak when she saw the shadow pounce, but she felt the cat’s surging pride as he snapped his jaws around his breakfast.
Toadstool trotted toward Dili, carrying a plump mouse in his mouth. He rubbed against her leg one more time before both witch and familiar settled down with their respective breakfasts.
Dili enjoyed her coffee with satisfying sips and her pastry in little bites to make both last longer. Meanwhile, Toad crunched through the field mouse as quickly as he could, the breaking, tearing, and squelching noises loud in the quiet of the early morning.
“You know, you could have at least caught something that didn’t have quite so many bones,” Dili commented toward her familiar.
Toad’s orange eyes flicked up at her. And you could eat something with actual substance instead of that puffy nonsense. We both make choices.
She snorted her amusement. “Well, it may be puffy nonsense, but what it lacks in substance it makes up for in delight,” she said.
Toad’s ears flattened out to the side, and he looked up at her in obvious judgement. Dili tore off another small piece of her croissant, popped it into her mouth, and gave her familiar a wink. Toad swished his tail a few times, smacking her leg, then turned back to finish his meal without another word, though Dili thought she could sense his disgruntled plans to make sure there were eggs for tomorrow.
Restraining a chuckle, Dili gazed across her thriving garden as the buttery layers melted on her tongue. Plants sprawled in every direction—comfrey with its broad fuzzy leaves, valerian reaching skyward, and nightshade tucked into shadowy corners. Most shouldn’t have survived at this elevation, but her garden defied conventional wisdom.
The comfrey smells ready, Toad observed, following her gaze while fastidiously cleaning his whiskers.
“I was just thinking the same.” Dili sipped her coffee. “Mr. Jenkins needs more joint salve, and Mrs. Gomez said Maria’s rash came back.”
Silence settled between them as the first golden rays of sunlight crept over the eastern ridge. Dili’s garden came alive with color the candle couldn’t illuminate—deep purples, vibrant greens, and splashes of yellow and red. A few bees had already begun their morning work, buzzing lazily between blossoms.
Done with grooming himself, Toad jumped up into her lap. Dili stretched a hand out to pet his ebony fur, which gleamed in the first light of dawn, but the feline familiar batted her hand out of the way. He pinned her with his orange eyes, staring into her pink ones as if he could see into her soul.
Are you going to harvest those roots today or just stare at them until they uproot themselves? Toad’s mental voice carried his typical impatience.
“Patience is a virtue, my furry friend,” Dili reminded him gently.
And a witch with patients cannot expect such patience—unless you can stir up some virtue for those who will have to wait until you catch up with your brewing schedule?
Dili laughed. Every familiar who’d ever chosen to walk by her side had been clever, but only a handful of them had been quick enough to keep up with word play. She kissed the top of Toad’s head, who, despite his nagging words, purred and pressed against her chest.
“You’re right, you’re right,” she conceded.
As always, Toad added.
“As always, indeed. How about just one more minute, hm?”
Toad seemed to hesitate, then he snuggled up even more firmly against her chest and butted his head against her. She began stroking his silky black fur, and he purred even louder.
Dili sighed, content, and took a last sip of her coffee with her free hand. Toad was right. The day ahead would indeed be busy, but those quiet moments with her familiar—judgemental as he could be—were worth savoring.
Toad’s ear twitched, swiveling toward the front of the house. His head followed a moment later, orange eyes narrowing as he focused on something beyond Dili’s perception.
Someone’s coming, he projected into her mind.
Dili paused mid-sip, holding perfectly still as she listened. After a moment, she caught it too—the faint sounds of someone rushing along the winding road up the hill to her cottage.
“At this hour?” she muttered, setting down her coffee mug with a soft clink.
Toad stretched, then jumped down from her lap. He bounded across the garden and up the stone wall. On top, he lifted his nose and sniffed, this his whiskers twitched in irritation.
I can’t tell who it is. The wind’s going the wrong way, Toad grumbled.
Dili sighed. “Well, so much for our minute.”
The witch cast one longing glance at her half-finished breakfast before stuffing the last of her croissant into her mouth. She brushed a few hairs and crumbs from her skirt as she stood. She thought as she chewed, moving calmly toward the front gate.
Toad trotted along the wall, keeping pace with her, his tail held high like a black flag. They reached the front gate just as the churning footsteps grew more distinct. Dili leaned against the weathered wooden gate, squinting down the path that disappeared around a sharp corner. Toad sat primly beside Dili’s shoulders on the edge of the stone wall, his tail curled neatly around his paws. Dili saw through his calm front, though. She felt his desire to prowl building until his claws itched, but the familiar remained still, waiting alongside his witch.
Perhaps it’s Vanessa, Toad suggested.
“Maybe,” Dili murmured, though she doubted it.
Vanessa Rufino was the best nurse practitioner in town. Dili was pleased to work for her, and even more happy to call her a close friend. Closest friend, if she was being honest. And being so close, Vanessa knew better than to visit without warning.
Dili’s regular clients and patients would not come calling this early unless it was an emergency. Her stomach tightened with worry, a familiar knot of anxiety she’d felt countless times over her long life. The centuries had taught her that human suffering followed predictable patterns, yet each new tragedy still found ways to surprise her with its particular cruelty. She braced herself against the gate, mentally cataloging which remedies she had prepared, which potions remained in her storehouse, and whether they would be enough if new calamity approached her threshold.
She frowned into the dim light, watching as a silhouette gradually took shape in the brightening gloom. Toad’s ears swiveled forward, his posture alert as he focused on the approaching visitor.
Whoever it is walks with purpose, he noted.
Dili nodded, then shivered. She hoped it was just the cool morning air that raised goosebumps on her skin, rather than a premonition of what was headed her way.
