Movement No. 11
Tempest
Stepping up to the platform, Yasmeena follows me onto the tram that’s taking us east towards the residential district. The other members of her team should’ve already set up the food distribution pop-up, so now it’s our job to actually connect with and help others in the community.
The magicite that fuels this monorail system glows a neon green, but even with my eyes closed, I can feel the magic flowing beneath us. It’s strong, stronger than the ink tattooed on me, and I ache to touch it. To feel the powerful crystal at my fingertips.
An elderly half-demon gives us a nasty glare, but I try not to give it any mind.
“He’s probably staring because of me. A lot of half-demons are upset with felion right now because we’re generally supportive of the current administration on Haeresis,” Yasmeena whispers.
“When you come from somewhere that abused and mistreated you like we did, it’s easier to see the good in the place you seek refuge. ”
“I never even thought about it like that,” I confess. This place is her sanctuary. It must feel like a utopia compared to what she was forced to endure.
“If I’m being honest though, I’d support The Legion too, if I didn’t know what was happening behind the scenes. Or what’s to come if they succeed,” she says as the tram starts to slow.
I’ve been so busy with pack politics, I haven’t given as much thought to our greater government. I like Raph from what I’ve seen from him, and I can’t stand Luc, but I don’t know much about anyone else. The other governors are a mystery to me.
The tram comes to a halt, and we get out, making our way down a stairwell until we step out onto the busy streets of Haeresis. We’re going to be around a lot of lupion today, and if this engagement is to be believed, I’ve got to stake my claim on her.
“Just in case we bump into someone, I need you to smell more like me,” I say, and Yasmeena furrows her brows in disbelief.
“Smell like you?”
“I need you to smell like you’re mine if anyone is going to believe we’re together,” I say, and brush a strand of hair behind her ear, running my hand down the length of her neck.
She nods in acceptance.
I bite Yasmeena. Hard.
Not enough to really hurt, but hard enough to draw a few drops of blood, and I feel her body melt into my touch like liquid gold.
Her skin beneath my teeth, her blood on my lips, the sensation has ignited me, and I can’t seem to catch my breath. Yasmeena doesn’t move—doesn’t even speak. She seems to be holding back a moan, and I just grasp her in my jaw until I finally decide to let go.
“Good,” I say, licking my lips. “Lupion can smell things like arousal. My pack and others would be able to tell if we’ve never so much as touched. The bite just adds to the ruse.”
She’s panting heavily, staring in perplexed silence.
That bite was one of the hottest things I’ve ever experienced, and a small part of me hopes she feels the same way.
We continue down the street in silence until we come up to a duplex with lupion symbols outside the door. “I think the pop-up should be close by,” I say.
Turning a corner to walk down a neighboring street, I spot a tent with a familiar looking human standing outside of it. The signage on the front says FREE MEAT. We cross towards Gemma, who excitedly waves once she spots us.
“Good. I was afraid you two might’ve killed each other on the way over,” she says, hopefully as a joke.
“What’re we doing exactly?” I ask for what feels like the hundredth time, but my brain can’t seem to recall the plan. I’m still fixated on the way Yasmeena felt in my arms as I nipped her neck.
“In here are packages of meat to give away, one per person,” Gemma answers, pointing to the four coolers behind us. “When someone comes up, you’ll hand them a package. Do not question whether or not they really need it. We’ll give them away until we run out.”
“What will you and the others be doing?” Yasmeena asks.
“Telling people in the community about the event. Absinthe printed flyers, and we’ll be handing them out.” Gemma smiles and waves. “Good luck.”
Well. Here we are.
A few lupion walk up, and a line begins to form, stretching past a mural-covered wall a block or two down. Yasmeena rubs her hands together, the coolers stinging her fingertips, but I’m used to the frost, given my magic.
“I’ll open the coolers,” I say, and she nods, falling into her role as the one to talk to.
Three tall lupion get their meat and leave, saying a polite thanks, before a petite lady with a red tail and ears steps up. She’s wearing a thin denim jacket, arms folded close to her body. It’s autumn, and though it’s not cold to me, the wind is starting to pick up, creating a chill.
“Hi,” Yasmeena says, smiling wide. “We have boar meat, bluegill, and a little bit of helfowl. Which would you prefer?”
She hesitates, like it’s a trick question. “Whichever one you’re okay giving me.”
“I’m okay with giving you anything. Which do you prefer cooking? Or would you rather eat it raw?”
“Probably the boar or the helfowl. It stretches farther,” she answers, and guilt explodes in my chest.
My Alpha is controlling, but at least we never go without.
“It’ll stretch even farther like this,” Yasmeena says, and takes another package from off the table, handing her both. “Here.”
My instinct is to remind her that Gemma said one per person, but I reel it in, because I’m starting to sound like my father.
“Oh, I couldn’t take two.” The lupion’s deep blue eyes are wrinkled at the corners, matching the smile lines by her mouth. She’s frail, reminding me much of Saoirse in the end.
My mind flashes back to childhood, when Saoirse would pack me double the snacks for school, telling me to give them to someone who needed them. I didn’t realize it in the moment, but I think she was trying to raise me to be kind and giving.
Yasmeena gestures to the rest of the line. “We’re really busy, so I’ve got to quit chatting, but it was lovely meeting you.”
That was her way of having the final say, and I can just tell from the look on the older lupion’s face, that she was grateful for it.
The line continued, one person after the other, until there were only a few packages of meat left. As Yasmeena hands the package of helfowl to a lupion, there’s a scuffle happening from behind them.
A long, dark-haired female lupion appears to be last in line, directly behind a taller, more muscular felion. The lupion kicks the back of the felion’s legs, causing him to nearly fall before he crashes into a young lad.
“This food is for the lupion,” she spits.
“This food is for everyone,” Yasmeena just about yelps as she moves from behind the table, going to assess the young boy.
He’s got mousy brown hair with matching ears and a tail. A lupion. His eyes are green and wide, and as Yasmeena approaches him, he darts from where he was standing in line, hurtling towards the cross between this street and the next.
I feel awful for this young boy. He waited all that time in line, and now he’s going to go hungry because of these two assholes.
They continue to push and shove at one another, and before Yasmeena can put herself in the middle, I let icicles shoot out from my hands, freezing their feet to the ground in just a single flick of my wrist. If Yasmeena is surprised by my use of magic, her features don’t show it.
“Are you two not embarrassed?” I shout as I walk towards where they’re stuck, the last two containers of meat in my hands. “Grown adults fighting over food. Well, here you go. Since you scared that child away, you both get what you wanted.”
I shove the packages into their hands, and they take them, a red flush of shame painted onto both of their faces.
“I will try to find him.” The lupion bows her head.
“I apologize,” the felion says. “But did you have to shoot ice shards at us? They almost cut my feet.”
Yasmeena gives him the nastiest glare I’ve ever seen from her. “If it happens again, I’ll have her ensure the ice does some damage, how about that?”
Pride swells in my heart at her passion and her defense of my people. I can’t help but think that if things were different, maybe something could’ve happened between us. Something real.
If we weren’t from opposing sides, we might have become friends, or even more.
From the moment I saw her, before I ever learned the truth about who she is, I felt inherently drawn to Yasmeena.
She was a golden beacon of light in that dark bar.
Now, despite the truth of our situation, she still manages to shine, illuminating every space she walks through.
The lupion and felion look at us with wide eyes, and I use my magic to strike the ice surrounding their ankles, breaking them free. The felion nods, and they both skitter away from the tent, the scent of fear radiating off their flesh and fur.
I zone out, my mind taking me to alternate realities where Yasmeena and I were born as half-demons, and were able to be… something. But then, if she weren’t a felion, and I weren’t a lupion, we wouldn’t really be us.
“Are you okay?” she asks, snapping me back to the present.
“Yeah, but so much for bonding with our communities,” I say, feeling a bit defeated.
“What do you mean?” Yasmeena cocks her head. “We helped so many people today, don’t let those pricks ruin it.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” I say, trying to stay positive, even though my mind is starting to spiral into the worst of places.
My father’s hand slapping my face. The last night I saw my mother.
Tyrus’ funeral. It all replays in my head like a bad movie, and I’m desperate for someone to cut the film.
Every step Yasmeena and I take forward together feels like it’s followed by three steps back when I remember who she is and what she’s done.
“I’m performing in The Sinner’s Circus tomorrow night,” she says, changing the subject. “Will you come watch?”
I immediately want to say yes, but I know I’m better off spending as little additional time with her as possible. “I’ll think about it.”