Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Over the past few weeks, I’ve made no headway with getting my mum alone and away from the pureblood idiot. Frustratingly, she no longer answers my phone calls, and the one time in desperation I tried to visit the club to see her, the vampire doorman wouldn’t let me in.
I am at a loss on how to proceed. Changing my face also seems an impossible dream. I have so much detailed research and so many in-depth notes on demons, some days it feels like I am doing a doctorate in demonology.
“Come on, Barbie,” Scott yells, snapping me out of my musings.
He’s right…I need to get my head in the game.
“Come on, Scott, that’s not original,” I gripe at him. “Bloody Barbie.” Grr.
“Hit the bear shifter like you mean it,” he bellows unhelpfully across the room. I grimace and puff out a breath. Okay, I can do this. I nod at Malcolm, the bear shifter in question, to check that he is ready for me, and then I punch him in the face.
Crap, it’s less of a punch and more of a love tap. I groan in self-disgust and rub my face with frustration. Eww. I end up with a mouthful of the boxing glove.
“Oi, stop that. Come here,” Scott says with thinly veiled exasperation as he waves me over.
I’m perfectly fine hitting the bags, but when it comes to hitting people…
I don’t know, it makes me feel all icky.
Pesky empathy. “What were you thinking about that day you knocked that girl on her ass?” Scott raises a red eyebrow.
He nods and points at my frowning face. “Yeah, think that.” He pushes me back towards the colossal bear shifter.
My face scrunches up with confusion. Yeah, that was an epic pep talk.
I square up to the bear shifter and give him a wobbly smile.
Okay, I can do this. Malcolm rubs his gloved fist across the back of his head; his dark blond hair, which is cut short on the sides and fashionably longer on the top, sticks up.
The light stubble on his jaw adds to his overall roughness.
Malcolm’s kind brown eyes dance with amusement.
He nods his head with encouragement and smiles kindly back at my grimace.
John. I superimpose John’s face like a target. I squint, and it’s almost too easy to imagine John’s face on anything I want to smash my fist into. I bounce on my toes and punch him with a left, a right, another left. I bounce and roll my shoulders.
It’s John’s face that I’m hitting, and each punch becomes easier.
Malcolm drops his guard as he lazily swings an embarrassingly slow punch towards me. I duck out of the way and follow it up with my right hand. I twist my hips and throw everything I have at bear-John.
Smack.
I watch in horror as the bear’s head snaps to the side. He spits and blood flies from his lips, and with a not-so-helpful shout of “Timber!” from Scott, the poor bear smashes down onto the blue mat, out cold. I knocked out a bear shifter.
I blink at the bear.
I blink at Scott.
Oh bloody hell.
“Oh my God, Malcolm, I am so sorry,” I squeak out, mortified.
At the same time, Scott says, “That was brilliant! When he wakes up, I think we should start you on weapons.”
“Weapons…” I silently mouth.
“Yeah, you’re a natural,” Scott says. He grins and his heavy hand pats my shoulder.
After the particularly hard training session with weapons, Scott and I sit on the floor guzzling down water. As I pick at the label on the bottle, I get up the nerve to ask him, what he thinks and experiences when he turns into animal form.
Perhaps I need a fresh perspective.
“Well, I just do it. Like scratching an itch—it’s as natural as breathing.” Helpful. I sigh and give him a smile of “thanks, anyway.”
Malcolm lumbers over. I say lumbers, but it’s still more like a prowl.
I guess even bear shifters don’t lumber anywhere.
He sits on the floor opposite me, hands on his knees, his concerned brown eyes quietly observing me.
“I couldn’t help overhearing. I train the cubs.
” My ears prick up with intrigue. I stop messing with the label and focus my full attention on Malcolm, smiling at him with encouragement.
Come on, Malcolm. Please give me something I can use.
“The cubs first shift into animal form in their twenties. I help them. At first, it’s all about focus.
They have to learn to meditate, and then we work on getting them to imagine themselves in their true form, their natural self.
” Malcolm rubs his eyebrow with his thumb.
“When the time is right, they shift. They know when the time is coming…” he huffs out a laugh and his face lights up with a grin…
“we all know when it’s time. It’s a little like human puberty—they get all obnoxious and rude.
Then suddenly you have a new bear knocking shit over and scratching the furniture as they get used to their claws.
We normally take them somewhere rural, like the Lake District.
It’s hard work because they need extra help, but it’s gratifying. ”
“So they think of their natural self?” I ask.
Malcolm nods. “Yeah. To shift back is the same thing—we get them to imagine themselves as human. You…urm, don’t need any help with a young shifter, do you, Emma?
” He drops his voice and looks about. “Be careful of the shifter council—they’re a nightmare to deal with.
Dangerous. It’s best to let us shifters deal with our own. ”
I lean across and squeeze Malcolm’s hand in reassurance.
“No, I’m just nosy. Don’t worry, I’m not harbouring a rogue shifter.
I’m not about to do anything silly like stepping on the shifter council’s toes.
” I do an exaggerated shiver. Malcolm’s drawn, worried expression clears, and he returns my smile.
“Thank you for explaining. The cubs are lucky to have you.” When his ears go a little pink at the tips, I giggle at him.
“I’m happy to answer any questions you have—you only have to ask.”
“Thanks, Malcolm.”
I finish my water. I can’t wait to go home and try his suggestion.
I need to think of my natural self and meditate more.
Maybe I’ve been overthinking things. Perhaps my magic should be as Scott said, as natural as breathing?
Everything seems to go tits-up if I overthink stuff.
I’ve found that with my fight training, the less I think and the more I just do, the better.
With a wave at the guys, I head towards the front door.
“Emma, don’t use the front door—that hellhound of yours is hanging around again. It’s almost like you’re his mate, the way he follows you around,” Scott says with a chuckle.
My heart jumps. John.
I puff out my cheeks, spin on my heel, and head for the fire exit at the rear of the gym.
John finds it hard to follow me, but when I’m in one place for a while, it doesn’t take him long to track me down.
He must have lookouts all over the city.
Not that my evening trip to the gym is tricky to work out…
I’ve been coming here for weeks and we set the time in stone.
“Thanks for the heads-up, Scott. Have a good evening.” Scott shakes his head and laughs, then waves at his office.
“Use that door,” he says. I turn my head and look at him.
Oh, crap, does he know about my pocket? “Don’t freak out.
I know you are a demon, and I know you have magic.
I also know that you don’t walk out of here.
The other day I was seconds behind you when you left, and you vanished into thin air.
” He taps his nose. “I am a fox. I couldn’t track you—there was no scent.
So I guessed you can Step like the fae or make your own temporary ley-line doorway like a witch.
” Scott shrugs. Powerful old fae can Step, which is how you’d imagine teleporting to be.
They just “step” from one place to the next.
“It’s no biggie, and I won’t tell nobody.
I understand that there is shit as a demon that you can do.
So if you want to just Step or if it’s a portal thing, you can use my office door… ” He shrugs.
I don’t bother with any denials—what would be the point? Scott is my trainer and, I hope, my friend. There is no point in lying, but I will not explain what I do, either.
I smile and head for his office. “Thanks, Scott. See you tomorrow.” Using the office door, I open my door to home.