32. Chapter 32
Chapter 32
River
O nly one day had passed since our little confrontation with the cult, and already I felt restless. I thought that once Andy and the others decided to get involved in matters, things would get more exciting. That maybe I'd get to stretch my legs a bit, use my abilities. Maybe even see what these strange, fascinating new people around me could do.
And yet, here we were, biding our time. The witch was back to focusing on how to reinforce or move the pocket world. She didn't want to talk about the rebels, her sister, or the councilor, and she growled at anyone who tried.
She seemed to care very little about what went on in the outside world. Though… perhaps that was an act. I didn't know her well enough yet to really say for certain. But the others said she had a big heart, and an even bigger sense of responsibility for other people's problems. (Some of them said it with fondness, and some with a tone of annoyance.)
She certainly wasn't showing those traits at the moment, though. Currently, she was acting as though nothing mattered outside this pocket world she inhabited.
It was maddening. The whole reason I decided to join up with the rebel cause was to make a difference. To protect my family and others like them who couldn't defend themselves from the cult. I needed to go, to move, to do… something. And yet here I was, prowling this curious, dusty haunted mansion in another dimension. I had made my opinions clear about the cowardice of hiding away here. But for some reason, I couldn't quite bring myself to push these people into joining the cause and heading out to fight.
Curious. Maybe I just didn't want to give up my access to all the information that resided here, all those delicious old tomes and the fascinating unexplored nooks and crannies of the Lovell mansion. Yes. That must be it. I did have a deadly addiction to needing to know things.
Which was why, against all logic or discretion, I was currently making my way down the hallway on silent feet, carefully placing each step, shifting my weight so the old, gleaming hardwood didn't squeak, so my scent didn't waft in the air and give me away. I listened to the currents of my magic, the subtle-yet-powerful sense that told me my luck would run out if I crouched down just there, but that everything would be warm fuzzy rainbows and hot chocolate vibes if I moved over here. Yes. Just here. Lowering myself silently, I allowed a little bit more of my magic free to play, giving me fuzzy ears and sharpening my already excellent shifter hearing as I lurked outside the kitchen.
“If all you're going to do is complain, go bother someone else,” the fae said in a flat tone. I heard the soft thunk of a knife on a cutting board, and smelled the distinct scent of green peppers. “I'm busy.”
A soft huff answered her. “Do you really think I'd be here with you if there was anything even remotely interesting to do around here?” The jinn's silky voice was full of disdain.
A whiff of smoke tickled my nose. Then a wash of fae magic. “There is a working stove for that, Aahil. Do not set the kitchen on fire or Andy and Zhong will murder you. And I'll take great joy in helping.” A pause. Then a long-suffering sigh. “Where is Andy?” she asked softly.
Aahil snorted. “Researching spells with her pet corpses and their boogeyman voyeur.”
“Don't call Dyre a corpse. Or Elijah.” Silence. More smoke. The distinct sound of a knife sinking into wood. “Flame again, and I won't miss, jinn. Maybe you'll be less moody if I castrate you.”
They were quiet for a moment, both working on food prep, if the sounds coming from the kitchen were any indication. Then the fae spoke again, her voice softer. “What's Hasumi up to?”
“I have no idea. Probably fussing over the corpses. It's their favorite hobby these days.” Aahil's voice was bitter.
“Aahil…”
“Don't,” the jinn snapped. “Don't start in with the pity. I can't take it from you, of all people, fae.”
I tilted my head, curious as usual. I found myself increasingly interested in figuring out how these people fit together. How they all seemed to somehow work as a family unit, when by all rights, they should mix like oil and water. Perhaps I didn't see the whole picture. These two sounded more like squabbling siblings than like two people who honestly disliked each other.
“I'm not pitying you,” Niamh snapped right back. “Maybe I just want you out of my damned space.”
“Fine. I'll go.” Jinn magic rose, flared and dissipated.
“Aahil…” Niamh called him back, but the jinn was gone. “Poor fucker,” she muttered under her breath. “I didn't mean it.”
My curiosity got the better of me and I moved from my hiding space, tucking my ears away. I didn't try to conceal my eavesdropping. The information I needed was more important than my pride. And the currents around me told me no ill luck was waiting for me. “You feel sorry for him?” I asked as I paced into the kitchen.
The fae huffed and shook her horned head, but didn't look up from the vegetables she was sauteing on the stove. Which somehow worked despite not being connected to any real power source. Oleander’s pocket world spell was truly fascinating. There were so many questions about how she had managed something so fantastical. I was pretty sure no other witch could duplicate it… I yanked my wandering curiosity back to the matter at hand.
Niamh had turned to watch me with narrowed eyes as she no doubt sensed my wandering attention. “You are a strange man,” she decided.
I shrugged, liking the way my flowy blouse rippled along my shoulders and back. The peasant skirt I wore with it today made it easy to lightly leap onto the table and settle into a cross-legged seat as I nibbled on an apple I snagged from the fruit bowl. “Thank you,” I said in response to the compliment.
She frowned. “Where in the world did you find that get-up? Seems a bit too… bright to have belonged to anyone who ever lived here.”
I grinned. “I didn't scavenge it. It's mine. Came with the stuff Bella sent through yesterday.” My suitcases, along with a big ol' white bag of insulin vials for Andy. And suddenly my mind was off on another tangent, wondering about how they created insulin in Magea for the few afflicted humans there, and whether they had magical methods that could benefit the humans in the Planus realm…
“My goddess, you are like a child,” the fae huffed, turning back to the stove and whatever she was making when I apparently missed something she had said.
I straightened my spine and did my best to focus. “I'm much more intelligent than a mere child ,” I assured her. “My brain simply works differently than yours. I'm complex.”
She chuckled. “You're something, alright. Are all shifters so nosey and scatterbrained?”
I frowned, seriously pondering her flippant question. “Are all fae the same as you?”
She huffed. “Similar enough.”
“Oh,” I said as I finished my apple. “Then I suppose your question makes sense. No. Most shifters I've met find me absolutely obnoxious. They think hunting and fucking are more important than knowledge and understanding the world around you. As a generality. But I suppose cat shifters are somewhat more curious than the others.”
“Well, good to know you aren't interested in fucking. Because skirt aside, you're not exactly my type.”
I laughed. “Oh, I'm aware. Though I didn't say I don’t enjoy hunting and fucking… I just don't see why those activities should preclude expanding one's mind.”
She gave me a suspicious look. “Well, whatever. Just don't go breaking hearts while you're here, spy. The others might all be far too ready to trust anyone they fuck. But I'm not so easily convinced. Hurt them, and I will kill you.”
I nodded. “But you see, that's exactly the sort of thing I'm trying to figure out. Not that I'm here to spy.” I waved a hand dismissively. “But I’m curious to know how this strange clan works when you are all so clearly different. I thought you hated the jinn. But you sounded sorry for him just now. The two of you sounded almost like siblings who don't want to admit that they love each other.”
She turned toward me, and I smiled faintly at how cute her antlers were. Did her whole fae clan have deer-like expressions of animalia? Or was it individual to the person?
“Aahil is a fussy, arrogant, annoying prick,” she said evenly. “But he's our fussy, arrogant, annoying prick. Someone has to look out for him. And his usual caretakers have been… distracted lately.”
I grinned. “You care for him. And clearly he cares for you, or he wouldn't have come to you searching for companionship. I see.”
She rolled her eyes. “Maybe. But all I managed to do was hurt his poor little feelings. Is that all you wanted?”
I frowned. “I'm not certain. More study is warranted.”
She went to the for-some-reason-operable refrigerator and started rummaging around. “Why don’t you study Aahil, cat. I bet he'd love that.”
I could sense the sarcasm. But still… it wasn't a terrible idea. “Okay,” I said, unfolding and jumping down off the table. “Have a nice afternoon, Niamh.”
I felt her eyes on me as I left the room. And heard her mumbled, “weirdo.”
My visit with Aahil went about as I had expected. The jinn was beautiful, as alluring as a jinn of fire and sensuality should be. But he was also deadly, and he really didn't like questions. Particularly personal questions about relationships or feelings. I supposed that in and of itself was valuable information, though. So, I didn't consider my investigation a total loss.
Though I would miss the skirt he had set on fire. Only my catlike reflexes had kept the second burst of flame from landing on my blouse.
I lifted a lock of my damp hair and sniffed to make sure I'd gotten rid of the smoke smell. Finding the aroma acceptable, I pulled on a pair of trousers and a soft, fitted t-shirt and ventured off to find someone else to interview.
I loved fashion—especially playing with different fabrics and textures, since I was a tactile creature at heart. But this time, I didn't bother with socks or shoes, padding barefoot down the two flights of stairs from my third-story room. I had a feeling I'd end up outdoors, and I really wanted to feel the grass beneath my feet.
Sure enough, I found my target in one of the side courtyards. The gargoyle was positively massive . Especially with those giant bat wings spread, like they were at the moment. I crept around the courtyard silently, so as not to disturb… whatever he was doing. A faint trickle of magic waxed and waned, and his spade-tipped tail lashed. When I crept around far enough to see his expression, his handsome face was creased in concentration.
He held the faintest ball of magic between his big hands. I watched curiously as he knelt down and gently pushed the magic into a nearby plant. Mint of some sort. And the thought made me crave some good quality catmint. I could almost feel the euphoria the herb could cause. Maybe Oleander would be able to grow some for me, if I could manage to obtain the seeds….
I sat cross-legged on a nearby bench made of large, twisted vines and patiently waited. Eventually the gargoyle finished what he was doing and glanced up at me with his fascinating yellow eyes. “Hello,” he said in a deep, gravely rumble that always made me want to purr.
I gestured to the plant he had just been fiddling with. “What were you doing?” Magic was always interesting to me. I couldn't really cast spells or anything like that. A shifter was made of magic, and if we had additional abilities they were limited to a few specific tricks. Most paranormal creatures were the same—only able to perform whatever magic was inherent in their nature. Witches and fae were the only real casters. But it was my understanding that while gargoyles were also made up of magic, like us shifters, they could learn to do some casting.
Zhong's light gray cheeks flushed dusky pink as he ran a hand through his springy curls and over a horn, looking adorably flustered. “Oh. I… Um. Andy has been teaching me some magic here and there, when she has time. I can't do much. It's hard for me to make my magic… external, if that makes sense? But I was practicing. Just a little charm to help the plants grow.”
I smiled at him. A gargoyle's focus was usually on the home, on protecting the physical structures and fortifying the place their master resided. But somehow, I wasn't at all surprised to find this particular gargoyle extending his skills to gardening. There was something so… solid and warm about him. Nurturing. I thought perhaps his idea of “home” and what needed protecting might be a bit different from some others of his kind. Maybe that was what made it possible for him to use his magic this way.
“Do the others tease you for wanting to learn magic?” I asked, tilting my head as I observed the way he looked at the ground when he stood. As if he was embarrassed.
He glanced at me in surprise, then came over to sit next to me, taking up the rest of the considerably large bench. “No,” he replied to my question. “Why would they?”
Interesting. “You seemed embarrassed about it.”
He shrugged and resettled his massive wings against his back, the ends trailing over the back of the bench to the ground. “Oh. Well… before I came here, I was determined to learn magic. To make some sort of living for myself. People I knew then seemed to think it was a stupid dream.” He met my eyes, and a small smile quirked his chiseled lips. “But it’s different here. When I told Andy about wanting to learn magic, she didn't seem to think it was silly at all. And she doesn't mind teaching me. No one else seems to really have an opinion about it one way or another. It's nice. That they just accept my interest as normal.”
I hummed in understanding. Then I frowned. “Even the jinn?”
Zhong laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling up and honest amusement in his open expression. “Everyone knows not to take anything Aahil says at face value.”
I arched my brows at him. The gargoyle seemed like he might be more… sensitive, I supposed. It was surprising to me that he seemed unconcerned with any implied slights the tiny terror might throw his way. “Is that so?”
He shook his head, his smile fading a bit, but still lingering around one corners of his wide mouth. “It took us all a while to really get to know and understand one another,” he said easily. “And I admit, I hated him at first. He was out of control. A danger to everyone around him—especially Andy. But… he's gotten a lot better. And somewhere along the way, I realized that the more he pushes someone away, the more he actually wants them to love him.”
Now that answer really was surprising. And insightful. I considered this for a moment. But it seemed to fit. Hadn't I just witnessed the affection between Niamh and Aahil not too long ago? I was surprised that they all had the patience required to love someone as difficult and complex as the fiery jinn. But by this point, I supposed nothing should surprise me anymore.
“Are you intimate with him?” I asked, my mind whirring with questions, still putting all the puzzle pieces together. If I remained here, what would be my place in this clearly tight-knit family? I only realized the rudeness of my question when Zhong paused. “Oh. I'm sorry. Sometimes my mouth gets ahead of my brain.” I waved a hand. “I was simply curious how you all fit with each other and the nature of your relationships. I didn't mean to pry.”
But the gargoyle just shrugged and answered the question honestly. “We have been a time or two,” he said, looking down at his big hands, which were clasped between his knees. “He has a way of knowing what a person wants. Part of what he is, I suppose. And… he's a better person than he likes everyone to think he is.”
I pulled my knees up and wrapped my arms around them as I considered this. “I know that Niamh isn't interested in men. But do you all fuck each other? Are you all Andy's lovers? How did that happen?”
He gave me a sideways glance, but didn't balk at my odd questions. I expected at least a little reprimand for being so weird and direct. But no. The gargoyle just rolled with it.
“Well… it's not like she's collecting some sort of super-powered harem or something,” he said slowly. “Master—uh, Andy—rescued us all. She freed us from a grimoire where her ancestors had trapped us so they could call on our magic and abilities anytime they wanted.” He shrugged his massive shoulders.” I think every one of us came out of that situation with a different set of wounds. But we all had one thing in common—we were suddenly lost and adrift. The lives we had led and the people we knew before our imprisonment were gone. And Andy just… took us in. Gave us a home.” His smile was warm and genuine. “I can't speak for the others, but I felt drawn to her the moment I met her—once I convinced myself I wanted to keep on living, that is. And the others grew on me along the way. We’re all in love with Andy. And some of us have found deeper connections with the others as well.” He shrugged again, and I had to pry my eyes away from the distracting way he rippled with muscle.
“I see,” I said slowly. “I suppose the connection was natural, given what you've all been through. And your master certainly is an attractive woman. She seems to love you all fiercely.”
“What about you?” he asked, turning to face me on the bench, a curiosity to match my own etched on his handsome face. “I'd like to think you aren't really here to spy on us like we first suspected. But you have a family out there in the real world, right? A clan. A place you belong. And you seem pretty invested in the rebel cause. Why are you here?”
Why was I here? I had asked myself that question quite often since I made the decision to stay here with these people in this strange mansion in a pocket world. “I don't know,” I said honestly. “You know about my luck magic, right?” At his nod, I continued. “Well, I tend to be a bit of a… free spirit. I go where my magic directs me. I've lived my whole life based on what feels right. And for some reason, this feels like the place I should be.” I shrugged, confounded. “It makes no sense, logically. But I've never put much weight in logic—at least, not when it comes to the heart and soul.”
He grinned at me, showing fangs. “All that knowledge you're always gathering. The books you've always got your nose stuck in. I would have thought you'd be logical to a fault.”
I waved a hand dismissively. “I like to know things. Learning new information is exhilarating. But I've never understood the scholarly need to be all serious about it. Information leads to ideas , and imagination , and exploration. Why try to make it all fit into a bunch of arbitrary rules? We have instincts, and hearts, and souls for a reason, don't you think?”
He watched me for a moment, maybe thinking what everyone always seemed to think about my approach to life—that I was flighty, scatterbrained, not serious enough about some things and too serious about others. In a word, weird.
“I get it,” he said finally. “That's kind of how I felt about staying here once I was free. I just knew. I didn't have to think about it or question my reasons. I knew I belonged here, with Andy. And that was it.”
I reached out and touched his hair, tracing the tight coil of a white curl. It looked as perfect as a marble sculpture, but was surprisingly soft to the touch. Then I pulled my hand back and scrunched my nose, realizing I was being weird yet again. “I'm sorry,” I said immediately. “Sometimes I just can't help myself.”
He just chuckled, soft and deep. “And my hair was interesting?”
I nodded. “Of course. You're like a work of art, you know. You look like a marble sculpture. I had to know what it felt like.”
Yellow eyes met mine but, oddly, there was no judgement there. “And?”
“It’s soft. Surprisingly soft. Though I suppose that's a stupid statement. Of course you aren't really made of marble. At least, not until you want to be.” And I was rambling now. But, oh well. Such was my life. And he didn't seem mad. “Gargoyles are fascinating.”
He chuckled again. “You think everything is fascinating.”
“You are not wrong, sir,” I informed him.
“You don't miss them? Your family that you left behind out there?” he asked with a searching look in those yellow eyes.
I sighed, letting go of a tension I hadn't even realized I was feeling. “Of course I do. I didn't really fit in very well among my clan. But I love my family and they love me. And, there are certain things that only a shifter would understand. Cultural things that I miss. Still though, it feels right to be here. I just need to figure out my place. My role here.”
He considered this for a moment. Then the giant of a man held out a big hand. I took it in mine naturally, without thinking anything of the gesture, still waiting to see what he was thinking.
He smiled a bit. “Big cats are really tactile with each other, aren't they? Pretty social among their own family groups? Are shifters the same?”
I looked down at our clasped hands, slowly realizing that maybe my reaction to his offered hand hadn't been what others would do? “Yes,” I said slowly.
“You're feeling lonely, even though you want to be here. You have all these strangers around you, and we all have a family bond, but you're an outsider. I won't laugh at you or judge you. But… why did you come out here to talk to me? I'm kind of the most boring person in this house.”
I huffed. “Well, the fae told me to go away. The jinn set me on fire. And the others are busy. Besides, you don't seem to mind my annoying questions. You're the nice one.” I winked.
He shook his head, still smiling in amusement. “You don't do so great with isolation, do you?”
I shrugged. “I do try to avoid it. Unless I have some interesting new research to do.”
He released my hand. Then he lifted his big mitt to stroke my half-dry hair, gently petting me. That faint little hint of a blush tinged his cheeks again, but he seemed determined to ignore his embarrassment. “I don't mind your questions at all,” he said, his deep voice gentle and soothing. “But… is this okay? Or, do you need… a hug, maybe?” Then he stopped petting me and held up his hands as if to ward off a protest. Probably because of my earlier line of questioning. “I'm not propositioning you or anything. I just… um. You don't have to sleep with anyone to get your needs met. I mean. It's okay to need touch. Or. Bonding?” He ran a hand over his face and let out an exasperated sigh. “I'm saying this all wrong.”
I gripped his wrist and pulled his hand away from his face, then scooted closer on the seat and guided his arm around my shoulders so I could snuggle in against his big, solid body. “Yes,” I said in relief. “For the love of all the gods and goddesses. I just need to touch someone. Please!”
Zhong laughed, and the deep sound reverberated through him and into me, making me want to purr in response. “Little cat, you are so wonderfully strange.”
I huffed, but didn't move out from under his massive arm. “I'm not a little cat. You're just gargantuan. Any normal-sized person would seem small by comparison. And yes, I'm used to being called weird. I've learned to just accept it.”
He removed his arm from around my shoulders, but only so he could grip the back of my neck with one huge hand and squeeze, massaging and comforting. I did purr then, the rumble of pleasure rippling through me. Perfection. Now if I could convince everyone to sleep in a giant pile tonight with me in my leopard form, all would be right with the world.
“I know I look like I’m made of stone and all,” Zhong commented with a hint of humor in his deep voice. “But I like this too. Touch. Affection. Just being near someone. Any time you want to cuddle, I'm your man. I won't set you on fire or get mad you're in my personal space.”
I purred louder. Then, throwing caution to the wind, I swung a leg over and moved to sit straddling his massive thighs, pressing my nose into the crook of his neck so I could scent him. He smelled of flint and mountain air, and I rubbed my cheek against his jaw, giving in to the instinct to mark him. He chuckled, but didn't flinch away, wrapping his strong arms around me instead. Despite the intimacy of the pose, that was all. We just sat there in silence, soaking in the comfort of touch and closeness with another living person.
Eventually, a surprised rodent peep intruded, and I lazily lifted my head to regard Andy's familiar. Bis stood up on his two back paws and peered up at us over the side of the bench. “If you're not going to mate now, can I come up and cuddle too?”
I laughed at his phrasing. “No mating just now,” I assured him. My curiosity newly awakened, I leaned away from Zhong to scoop up the strange, wonderful creature and pet the soft, spineless fur of his tiny head. He was a wonder. “Would you like me to shift?”
He peeped excitedly and pranced in my hands. “Yes! I want to cuddle with the kitty.”
Zhong chuckled. “Am I allowed to pet you if you're in cat form? Is that rude?”
I shook my head adamantly. “You're definitely allowed, big guy.”
Shedding my clothes, I made quick work of shifting. Then I leapt back up onto the bench and draped myself over Zhong's lap. Bis clambered up onto my back and walked in circles, kneading my fur like a tiny masseuse before he curled up into a happy ball.
This was what I had been missing, though I hadn't realized it on a conscious level. Zhong was a very perceptive man. And thankfully, a very tolerant soul. I leaned up and swiped my rough tongue along his smooth cheek in thanks, then lowered my head on my paws, drifting off to his soft chuckle and the feel of his big hand stroking my head.