Chapter 3
THREE
We stepped out into the main street. Spy Glass was in complete and utter darkness. Max had pulled the blinds, and they did a pretty good job at blocking out the light.
I could picture it all in my mind: Clayton and Max would be sitting in the bar with the other staff, sharing a drink and relaxing. No doubt, Clayton would be on the fruit machine, gambling his earnings away. Max lived above the bar. Eventually, she'd go up to bed and leave them to it, letting Clayton lock up after everyone. As long as they didn't touch the expensive drinks, they could stay. It was a simple, don't take the piss , rule.
I joined them on a rare occasion, but it was so rare they thought I didn't drink or socialise, which was partially true. That was only because of time. I had college, work, and my mother to balance. Plus, my mother didn't so much like me mixing with people. She'd had strict rules about socialising most of my life, and even at nearly eighteen, that hadn't changed.
As Tia and I came out onto the street and into better light, I caught her by the elbow. "You're bleeding." Blood glistened on her cheek where the knife had caught her. For whatever reason, I'd not seen it before. But now, standing out in the light and the silver taking its effect, red bloomed across her cheek and the capillaries just under the surface bulged.
Humans and their weapons.
Fuckers.
I wiped her cheek with my shirt’s edge. Not that it made it look any better. The silver embedded in her skin reacted like an allergy, pooling outwards. "That needs looking at," I said.
It wouldn't go if she didn't.
Bringing her hand up to it, she touched her fingers to the wound and winced.
The tips came away smeared. "It'll have to heal on its own. I don't have health care," she said.
Others, unlike Humans, didn't get free access to health care and things like that. They paid insurance costs through Society memberships and other things with the Council, but not everyone could afford that level of care. Plus, we were shifters; we didn't tend to need much in that way.
"We could go back into the bar. Honestly, Max won't mind. Clayton has so many balms, he won't care either."
Balm was something shifters got off witches. It hurt like holy hell when it was applied, but it pulled out the silver and then allowed the cuts to heal. A silver-infected cut was like a growing infection, no matter how small. It would get better on its own, but it'd take its sweet time.
"It's okay." She stepped back from me, putting a little distance between us as if I might grab her and pull her inside. "I'll just let it do its own thing."
I tilted my head, studying her. "It could scar. Max really won't mind."
Her eyes glistened like the blood on her cheek. I'd pushed a little too hard maybe. Even my panther felt it, and when she brought her hands to her face and started to shake her head, I wasn't exactly sure what I was meant to do.
"Tia?"
"I'm so stupid. This is all my own stupid fault." She lowered her hands a little, peered at me. To my relief, she wasn't crying. She put her hand to her forehead and maybe if I wasn't there, she would have.
She wasn't stupid. I was.
"It's not your fault. Those guys were pricks. They did this." I hesitated, wanting to go to her, my panther feeling her distress. I hated that sometimes—the ability to feel what others felt and not just on an empathetic level, but I could feel it as if I was experiencing it. Sometimes it was so confusing to know what my own emotions were, and what I was picking up off someone else.
"I should have left when they started their crap in the bar." She looked at me helplessly, and that distress in her intensified, because I felt that too.
I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself against the wave of her emotions. "You had every right to be there. You shouldn't have to leave because some arseholes can't behave themselves."
She nodded, but she didn't really believe me.
I could feel her as if I could feel my own body, where it ached from the little hits I’d taken. Usually, I was good at switching this off and blocking it. I’d practised putting up mental shields to hold everything back, so I didn’t get bombarded by other people’s emotions, but it didn’t seem to be working that night. “You could have been standing outside naked, dancing in the moonlight, and it’d still be their fault.” I moved closer to her then, reaching a hand out to place it gently at the curve of her back. Physical contact was good for this, skin-to-skin even better. “It’s not your fault. I promise.”
She didn’t back away from me, which was a good thing, nor did she shake my hand away from her. Instead, I felt her heart leap with my own. It caused my breathing to hitch, but I needed the contact to calm her. The emotional connection worked both ways. This was my ability.
Most shifters had other abilities. Some had only slight things that they didn’t even notice, others had huge abilities that had the potential to drive them insane. For me, it was this. To feel others' feelings, to feel their bodies. I could feel the hunger of a starving person, the pain of the injured, and the sorrow of the grieving. With Tia, though, it was something else.
I’d figure that part out later.
I could soothe too. Maybe not take away everything someone was feeling. That’d be unfair. Emotions had purpose and they were part of the experience of living, but sometimes they needed help. I could calm fear and anger with touch, could dissipate pain with focus, and ease suffering when it was needed.
When she started to calm, I felt that too, felt it inside me like a slow lap of the sea lazily brushing back from the shore. She leant into me, putting her head to my chest. Whether she realised what she was doing or not, I had no idea, but I gave her the comfort woman and panther seemed to need.
If I were to ask her why she’d just done that, she’d not know. People came to me like this, too. It was as if something unconscious could sense what I could do, and they gravitated towards it—towards healing.
Gently, I put a hand to her hair, and then stroked down. “Do you want to come back to my place? I have some balms there, instead. We can clean up and I’ll walk you home.”
Nodding, she wiped her eyes, then moved away and out of my comforting zone. “Sorry. I’m not normally like this. I don’t know what’s come over me.” She had both hands to her face again as she let out a breath. When she moved her hands, she looked to me. Her eyes reflected mine in a way. The green in them, the panther inside, pacing, needing, wanting. “I think it’s the move. Maybe.” She shook her head, a small laugh escaping her. “Sorry. You must think I’m nuts.”
I tried to hang my bag over the opposite shoulder, because the strap that had broken, was the one I used, and when it didn’t hang right, I just held it. “Not at all,” I reassured her, understanding more than she might realise. “You’ve had a shitty day.”
We started walking. She’d calmed now, even if I did catch her looking around her, checking every nook and cranny. When we stepped across the mouth of another alleyway, she stepped closer to me. “A shitty week. I should have realised it was going to go this way when I turned up at my accommodation on Monday.”
“Something wrong with it?”
She scoffed. “No. It’s fine, it’s ... There was a mix-up and they put me in with two Human girls.”
“I can guess how that went down.”
“ And I have an assignment due. Some practice essay so the tutor can assess, but I’m not allowed to use the desk in our room, even though there is space for me.”
“Ah.” I nodded back to Spy Glass. “Hence you came out here.”
“I would sit on my bed and do it.” I had no doubt that was the only part of the room she was allowed to touch. “But then they make as much noise as possible.” She stopped talking and stopped walking. “Shit. See, you didn’t need to know all that either. Maybe I should just go home and go to bed. Sleep it off.” She went to step back, I stepped with her.
“It’s okay. I get it. My place is only a couple of blocks from here. Come with me, we’ll get that cleaned up and I’ll walk you back.”
She peered at me, and I could almost read every thought echoing around her head. “Are you sure? I really don’t want to put you out. You’ve already given me your shirt, rescued me, and listened to my random complaining, which by the way, I’m stopping right now.”
I couldn’t help the smile that pulled at my lips. “It’s all fine.” I had that effect on people, too—the talking. I always chalked it up to my link with emotions and being able to feel theirs, because maybe they could feel my sincerity and empathy, and maybe that drew them to me, and made them talk. The older I got, the more I saw it. It wasn’t unusual for patrons at the bar to tell me all their problems. Especially patrons who were Other.
“Maybe you need to be up early. You’ve only just finished work.”
I shrugged. “I don’t sleep too much generally, but in a few hours, I’ve got another job to go to, then I have classes all day, so I don’t go to bed, or I’d sleep right through. Normally, I just go home and chill on the sofa, shoot some things on my game.”
She mock frowned. “That sounds like important work.”
“The shooting or the classes?”
Her frown morphed into a smile. “Both. As long as you promise it’s no bother it’d be a great help. Becky and co would only start their crap if I went home looking like this. Claiming I’d be infecting the bathroom and they might catch what I have.”