Chapter 27 #2
“We’re not supposed to at camp. But some situations require profanity. You’re right about one thing, Shan. If he could say those things to you, then he was a monster.”
“I thought you didn’t believe in monsters.”
She shoved her shoulder against him in exasperation. “I said no-one is born a monster, you silly man. Not that people couldn’t choose to be one. There’s a difference.”
Shan seemed to turn this idea over a few times. “You think he chose to give in to the qiongqi’s instincts?”
“No, I think he was a sadistic piece of shit. The fact that he was a qiongqi as well is beside the point. I have no doubt he used his animal as an excuse. But he decided to hurt people. To hurt you. Oh, the utter bastard. He’s lucky he’s dead. If I knew where he was buried, I’d piss on his grave.”
She was nearly spitting with fury. To her surprise, Shan put his arm around her. He pulled her against his side, dropping his chin to rest on the top of her head.
“Thank you,” he murmured against her hair.
Oh, no. He smelled good. Really good. She extricated herself before her scent could betray her.
“Anytime. Just let me know if you have any other asshole relatives I can skin on your behalf.” She gave him an awkward pat on the arm, hoping the smoke from the fire would conceal her pheromones. “So, it was just you and your mom after that?”
“For a while. Though I did not see her much.” Shan gestured at his sunglasses.
“My eyes changed that day. It soon became clear it was going to get worse. I couldn’t pass for human, so she sent me to a boarding school for shifters.
Though that was not the only reason. It was hard on her, having me around.
Looking like I did. Being what I was. She would never admit it.
But I knew the truth. I stayed away as much as I could.
She passed away when I was sixteen. A car accident.
I didn’t go home for the funeral. There would have been too many people there who didn’t know what I was. I couldn’t risk anyone seeing my eyes.”
Good job, Leonie. He’d only asked her about her sister, and in return she’d made him relive his all his traumatic childhood memories. What a way to thank him for all his help. She wouldn’t blame him for refusing any future assignments within five hundred miles of the camp after this.
Shan cleared his throat. “My turn. Truth or dare.”
Well, he’d started it. Truth had turned out to be rather fraught, so she went with the safer option. “Dare.”
From his frown, it wasn’t what he’d wanted her to pick. He rubbed his mouth, evidently thinking.
“Show me your last text message conversation,” he said at last. “With your twin.”
Oh God. This was going to be mortifying. Still, she supposed it was only fair after what she’d just put him through. Even if his interest in Lola was starting to get a bit worrying.
“Here you go.” She dug out her phone, opening her brief exchange with Lola the previous morning. “Excuse me while I attempt to hide in this beer bottle.”
Shan studied the screen for much longer than it should have taken to read two lines of text. “Birdbrain?”
“That’s my nickname for her.” She put her phone back in her pocket. “I’m the only one who gets to use it. It’s a twin thing. She calls me Catbutt.”
“Affectionately?”
“Yep. It’s kind of a joke. Birdbrain and Catbutt. Front half and back half, see?”
Shan looked utterly baffled. “No.”
Now that she thought of it, she supposed he didn’t. She didn’t normally talk about her odd quirk, since other shifters tended to find the entire concept viscerally horrifying. And she couldn’t do it at camp anyway. Not without Lola.
She didn’t like the thought of Shan drawing away from her in disgust. Then again, he hardly had a typical relationship with his own inner animal. She had no doubt he would have given it up in a heartbeat, if he could. Maybe he’d understand.
“Okay. Please try not to be weird about this.” She took a deep breath. “Lola and I can do a…thing.”
“A thing,” Shan prompted, when she didn’t continue.
“Yeah.” She braced herself. “Lola and I can sort of…share our animals. If we’re touching, I can give her my lion. Or she can give me her eagle.”
Shan, understandably, stared at her as if she’d just announced she could remove her own head.
She sighed. “Yes, that’s the reaction we usually get. It’s why I don’t talk about it at camp. I don’t want the kids thinking I’m some sort of freak. You’re not supposed to be able to rip out your own soul and hand it to someone else. Not even your own sister.”
“What happens,” Shan said slowly, “when one of you has both animals?”
“They kind of combine. If I borrow Lola’s eagle, I can shift into a griffin.
Or she can, if she borrows my lion. It lasts until we touch and separate them again.
” She shrugged. “I guess we can do it because we’re twins.
You must have met a lot of shifters, in your line of work.
Have you ever come across another pair like us? ”
“No.” He was still staring at her, but not with revulsion. More like he was seeing her for the first time. “Never.”
“Oh,” she said, slightly disappointed. It would have been nice to know she wasn’t unique.
“Well, it never really seemed strange to us. We used to share animals all the time when we were kids. Though we don’t do it much anymore.
When one of us is the griffin, the other one can’t shift at all.
So it’s not much use when we’re away from each other most of the year. ”
“A lion and an eagle.” Shan murmured, more like he was talking more to himself than her. “Two halves of a griffin.”
“Yep. Catbutt and Birdbrain.” She took another drink, relieved that he hadn’t commented on the actual content of her conversation with Lola. “So there you go. My turn. Truth or dare?”
“What?” Shan said, sounding distracted. “Oh. Yes. Dare.”
She’d been hoping he’d pick that. She’d already worked out what to ask him to do.
“I dare you,” she said, “to shift. Right here. Right now.”
That got his attention. “Why?”
She shrugged, sipping her beer. “I’ve never had a chance to get a good look at your animal. Not your front end, anyway. You’ve always either been way up in the sky or had your tail in my face. I’d like to see you properly. When am I going to meet another qiongqi?”
Shan looked somewhat confused by the request, but he stood up. He moved back a step, opening up some space between them. His form shimmered.
Her lioness purred in appreciation. Yes.
The qiongqi’s wings shifted; opening a little, then folding back against striped flanks. It sank to its haunches, tail curling neatly over huge front paws. Its burning gaze met hers.
His eyes hadn’t changed. They were still yellow on black; fiery irises surrounded by darkness. Shan’s eyes…and yet also not. He was still there, but so was another presence, too. The part that he’d always kept locked away. The part he didn’t trust.
“You’re not a monster,” she said to the qiongqi. “And I think your mate knows that, too. Even if you don’t.”
The qiongqi tilted its head. Its form blurred, and Shan was back, eyes hidden once more.
“Yes,” he said, voice cracking. “She does.”
“You need to talk to her, Shan.” He opened his mouth, and she rushed on before he could argue, “I’m sorry, I know it’s none of my business. And I understand better, now, why you’re so afraid of your animal. But…you really need to tell her.”
He took a seat; on the same log as her, but a little way off, angling his body toward her. Then, to her surprise, he put his head in his hands.
“Yes,” he said, muffled. “I am afraid I do.”
“Shan?” She touched his shoulder, worried that she’d gone too far. “What’s wrong?”
“Everything.” He breathed out, rubbing his face. “Leonie. Can you and your sister swap animals?”
“What?” she said, taken aback. “If we’re still playing, at least do it properly. I’d rather take a dare.”
“Not a game. It never was. You said you and your sister can share animals. That one of you can be a griffin. But that’s not all you can do. She can be a lion. You can be an eagle.”
“Well, yes. Technically.” Her stomach twisted in unease. Where was he going with this? “We don’t, though. Lola doesn’t like it. She says it feels wrong, not having wings. She loves flying.”
“And you long for the sky,” Shan murmured. “One last question. Leonie, do you remember the first time you shifted?”
Her sister’s hands in hers. Mind to mind, heart to heart. Reaching down, wanting so hard…
She pushed the memory down. “Not all that clearly. We were just kids. Lola shifted right after me, and we discovered straight away that we could share our animals. It was all rather confusing. Most new shifters only have to get to grips with one new form, not three.”
“Truth,” Shan murmured, fingers pressed to his mouth. “Mostly. You don’t want to remember.”
If she’d been in her animal form, her fur would have been bristling all along her spine. “Shan, why are you asking me about all this?”
“Because I know only too well that there are consequences to repressing your true nature. Because this cannot be good for you.” He dropped his hands, looking sick. “Leonie, you aren’t a lion shifter.”
“Have you lost your mind? Of course I am.”
Shan shook his head. “You’ve told yourself that for so long, you almost believe it. But deep down, you know it isn’t true.”
“Fine, Mister Pedantic,” she snapped. “I’m not entirely a lion. Just like Lola isn’t entirely an eagle. I don’t care what you think you’re tasting. I know my own animal. Better than you do, thank you very much.”
Shan looked down at his hands. Rather than reply, he took off his gloves. Then he reached up, unhooking the strap that held his sunglasses in place. He removed them, folding the arms before setting them down at his side. Those yellow-on-black eyes met hers, steady and certain.
“No,” he said simply. “You don’t.”
And she knew.
Not in her head, but in her heart. It wasn’t a sudden, overwhelming shock, like she’d always been told to expect. More like the slow creep of dawn. The whole world gradually brightening, blurring the boundary between night and day. Until there was the sun, turning everything to gold.
Oh, said her lioness, startled.
“It is you,” she breathed. “You’re my mate.”