7. MEETINGS NEW AND OLD

I was startled from my sleep much earlier than my body wanted. I jumped and jerked sharply as a voice from the doorway intruded on my slumber.

“James? Beth? Mom’s done with her shower, and Evgenia’s in the other bathroom. Now would be the time if you wanted to wash up this morning.” Sam softly advised, her head illuminated by the light in the hallway.

My mind was still firmly asleep, so the only possible answer I could give was, “What?”

Beth was clearly more conscious than I was, as she responded more appropriately, “Thanks, Sam. We’ll be up in a minute.”

Beth rolled over and out of my arms and pulled my wrist as she edged off the bed. “C’mon, sleepyhead, you heard her. We need to get up and get you ready for your big reveal.”

I groggily allowed her to pull me to my feet. I squinted my eyes and saw that the clock on the desk read 6:15. I grumbled that it was too early as I grabbed a clean pair of boxers and made my way to the bathroom.

Logically, I knew that 6:15 wasn’t actually all that early. I had spent the previous weeks on my school schedule, and since my first classes were after noon, I would typically still have several hours of sleeping left. On top of that, I had a whirlwind weekend and an insane Monday that left me reeling and mentally exhausted. I wouldn’t ever be going to my classes again. My trepidations over joining the workforce and running the career ladder rat race were over, replaced with things I had no comprehension of. How was I supposed to care for Beth when I had no idea how to care for myself in this new world I had been dropped into?

I stumbled into the bathroom, doing my best zombie imitation as I turned the water on, carefully tested it, and found my desired temperature. Before I had a chance to step into the falling water, Beth slipped through the shower curtain in front of me. She tested the water, adjusted the handle slightly, and turned to me. She then forcefully pulled me into the steaming water, making me wince in shock, before gripping my neck and pulling my face to hers. The kiss she gave me had me forgetting all about the burning sensation the water left on my skin.

When she finally withdrew her lips from mine, all I could utter was, “Wow.”

She sternly met my eyes and said, “Every morning. Every morning you wake up with doubts. You need to knock that off. Are you awake now?”

“Yes. I’m sorry, those must be uncomfortable to have shared with you.”

Beth sighed exasperatedly and said, “That’s not the issue. Don’t apologize to me for having doubts. We just need to get you to believe in yourself more.” She kissed me again, even more fiercely than before. “Now, we didn’t get to play last night, and I imagine you’ll be tired after your physical evaluation tonight.”

With that, she turned around, placed her hands on the wall, and arched her back. She turned her head around and wiggled her cute, tight behind at me.

“Is there something I could interest you in, sir?”

There certainly was, as she managed to stoke my fires intensely. Just moments ago, I had been lost in the fog of my own insecurities, but now I was firmly fixated on the teasing trollop in front of me.

Unfortunately, the experience of shower intimacy with Beth was entirely unrewarding. Being more than a foot taller than her was manageable while we had a bed to use, but it made standing penetration awkward and exhausting. The shower was modern, sleek, minimalist, and unsuitable for dalliances by design. I probably could have simply picked her up, but trusting my footing alone in the slippery shower felt foolishly optimistic. There was no ledge for her to lean a foot on to change the penetration angle, and I hadn't completely adjusted to being taller than I was a week ago, leaving me disinclined to try anything more acrobatic.

After trying several different positions and finding none of them overly satisfying, I abandoned the idea of actually having sex in the shower. I pulled Beth into my body and ground my dick against her ass, using my hands to play with her. Our growing connection was a massive boon, as I could instantly tell where she needed me to touch and what she would like. I read her emotions like a treasure map, stirring her slit with my fingers while torturing her nipples and kneading her breast with my other hand, her mind guiding my touch exactly where she required it.

In only a handful of minutes, she went from being in control and provoking me to a little puddle intoxicated with lust. From the handful of coherent thoughts she produced, I could sense that my unwavering and borderline-aggressive demeanor was specifically what she wanted. Having experienced the dragon leaking through my control the other night, she wanted nothing more than to be ravaged by him again, knowing the human James would return to care for her afterward. She wanted to be wanted — to be used as a vehicle for my pleasure — because she could innately know I wouldn't push beyond her boundaries. It let her be out of control while still being safe.

When she finally exploded in ecstasy and wailed unintelligibly, turning her head to writhe against my chest, I was glad to already have my arms around her. Her knees buckled underneath her, and my grasp on her quivering quim was the only reason she remained standing. I withdrew my fingers from her insides and gently caressed her stomach while I waited for her blissed-out mind to return to reality. Another minute passed with only the sounds of the running water and her soft whimpers before she shivered and shook her head, her thoughts growing sharper and more coherent.

“James, I don’t think we need to worry about biting anymore. God, even when we have what should be a bad time, you make me cum so hard I lose my mind.” She paused momentarily to bask in the potent afterglow, letting out a contented sigh as she leaned into me.

She must have felt my still firm erection against her back because she turned in surprise and said, “Wait, you didn’t… I was trying to get you off before our busy day, and somehow you completely flipped the script on me.”

She reached down and began to stroke me, but I gently removed her hand, explaining, “We used up enough time trying to figure out how to have sex, to no avail. We need to shower and get ready to go out.”

Beth gave me a pouting face and tried to apologize. I insisted that I was perfectly content with just helping her, and we eventually got around to actually showering. She happily leaned against me and drifted off into the sensual abyss again while I massaged her head and shoulders and washed her hair.

As we neared the conclusion of our shower, Cynthia knocked on the door and shouted into the bathroom that breakfast was ready and that we needed to stop playing to be on time for my appointment. Beth and I stepped out of the shower and dried off, both of us donning lazy, relaxing clothes. If we were going to get tailored outfits, there was no reason to dress up now. I also wanted to bring the shorts and tank top I wore to go straight to the second meeting.

Joining the others in the dining room, I saw the clock on the microwave say it was now after seven. I didn’t realize we had spent quite that long in the bathroom and was embarrassed at just how obvious it was how Beth and I had spent that time, made doubtless by Beth's longing looks and vacant smile. Cynthia had made eggs, bacon, and toast for everyone, and they had already started eating at the table. Beth and I served ourselves and joined them.

I asked a question as I sat down. “So, Evgenia, you said you know the person we’re going to see. Are you close to them, or just casually know them? Sorry if that’s too personal. I’m really just a bit nervous and would like to know more about what I’m doing today.”

She nodded in understanding and answered, “It’s not a problem. Marjorie is a witch who specializes in clothing and other textile enchantments, and she runs a little boutique on Frankford. I had her handle all of my professional garments. When I first came to Philly, I lived with her for a while. She’s lovely and really helped me acclimate here.”

“I appreciate you making the arrangements for us. It’s wonderful to not be scrambling or to have been completely ignorant and have given a terrible public impression.”

Evgenia smiled softly at the praise, but her response diminished her foresight, “It was nothing, James. It’s my job to help you this way.”

We finished our breakfast and then made our way out of the apartment and down to the street. We took the subway, as Evgenia said there was a station only a few blocks from our destination. True to her word, we only walked a block through the bustling morning crowds before being guided into an elegant entranceway. The front lights were off, and the open sign was unlit, but I knew we had an appointment for just a few minutes. Evgenia called out as we entered, “Marge! I have a treat for you.”

A rosy, diminutive woman appeared from between rolls of fabric and made her way over to us. I watched as she appraised each of us, her eyes slowly rolling before bouncing to the next person. She was professional yet disarming in a caring, maternal manner. I assumed she was simply contemplating initial ideas for how to provide services for each of us.

“Zenya, darling, it’s lovely to see you. I hope you’ll tell me you’re in town next time, even if it’s not for work.”

While the two women hugged and caught up, and Evgenia began to explain what she was after in bringing us here, I had an idea. I whispered conspiratorially to Cynthia, “Evgenia said she was a witch, right?”

Cynthia whispered back, “Yes. Why?”

“Just curious.” I didn’t want to set any expectations about what I would try. After all, it might not work.

Eventually, Marjorie came to address the rest of our group. “So, we need dresses for the three ladies and something dashing for the gentleman, yes?”

“I count four ladies in need.”

Evgenia jumped to the conclusion of what I was suggesting and started declining immediately, “Oh, I don’t need anything. It’s you all who need to make your first impressions; the court knows who I am.”

There was an easy way to nip this in the bud. I met her pale eyes with my own and said, “Evgenia, I would like you to find something that would please you to wear to court today.”

She opened her mouth to object again, but nothing came out. She had signed her soul to follow my instructions to the letter. I felt awful going about it like this and almost immediately wished I had found a more tactful solution, but I had already committed to this pathway, so I pressed on.

“So, Miss Marjorie. I count four ladies in need. I have a question to ask, though, which might be a bit of a faux pas. Unfortunately, I am a newcomer here and not fully integrated with the local customs or sure of exactly where I stand in them. Do you use gems to store energy as a part of your work here?”

She seemed confused about what I wanted but nodded affirmatively to my question.

“Wonderful. Do you happen to have any depleted ones at hand?”

Mary uncomfortably shifted her balance, contemplating before answering me. “I have a couple in the back, but they’ve been in my family for generations. I don’t wish to part with them.”

She must’ve presumed I was looking to purchase them. “Could I hold them while we shop today?”

She looked increasingly uncomfortable, and she looked to Evgenia. Unfortunately, the vampire’s face was completely neutral, and Mary found no answers there.

As I had with Marcus and Sam yesterday, I reached out with my mind and collected some energy. Imbuing my words, I proclaimed, “I promise they will be returned before we leave today.” Sam, Marjorie, and Evgenia shivered as my words passed through the room, and Cynthia looked at me with surprise written cleanly on her face. Marjorie acquiesced with that and walked away for a minute.

Evgenia hissed at me, “What are you doing? Those are personal. And what incantation did you just cast?”

I nearly facepalmed in regret. Evgenia wasn’t in the car when I had recharged the O’Brien’s gems, and it must’ve slipped through our discussion when I gave her my story, so she had no inkling of what I wanted to do.

“Oh, Ev, I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you this, but I’m trying something. I have no malicious intentions for them — You should know that I don't know enough to do anything nefarious here. Relax, and try to enjoy yourself. I’m sorry to have to force you into it, but I don't think you would otherwise.”

Marjorie returned and brought with her a drawstring bag. She hesitated when she went to hand them to me and took a deep breath before releasing them to my care. I opened it and inside found a dozen and a half gemstones of varying sizes and colors. I reached in and grasped the largest one, a deep maroon stone nearing the size of a softball. The shopkeeper watched me, her heart in her throat, as I handled some of her most prized possessions. I simply smiled at her and returned it to the bag. Nervously she stepped away from me and began assigning assistants and dressing rooms to each of us.

The next ninety minutes were a blur as Marjorie and her assistants took each of us and gathered measurements before leading us individually to fitting rooms. I presumed I would be the simplest as a guy, and I was given a pair of slacks and a silk shirt. After I had donned them, Marjorie manipulated the fabric in specific locations. It seemed to leap to her touch and then move on my body, changing the cut and fit of the garment as she silently instructed it around me. It was the most engaging tailoring experience I ever had, not that there had been many.

A sports coat and a pair of shoes found their way onto me and were likewise manipulated. I did not recognize the man looking back at me from the mirror when the tailors finished. Four days ago, I was a college student lost between his computer monitor and his notebooks, a wardrobe consisting of athletic shorts, tank tops, band t-shirts, and pullover hoodies. The man before me looked like an executive at a wall street firm, sharp and confident. The dragon smugly reassured me that we were much more important than a simple businessman and that, soon, I would be as dauntless as I looked.

I was escorted back to the waiting room and given a discrete, unmarked bag containing my old clothes. Over the next few minutes, my companions were returned to me individually. Sam was first, her new green gown flowing around her intricately and complimenting her curves. The color contrasted with her hair, making her impossible to ignore. She was overjoyed when she returned to the room and delicately approached me to gush over the entire experience.

Beth returned to us next, wearing a form-fitting, bright pink dress. It left nothing to the imagination, and you could see that there wasn’t an ounce of fat on her under the clothes. She came up to me, grasped my hands, and kissed me. She could’ve convinced me with a single word if she had wanted me there, our emotions blurring and mixing and joining into a feedback loop. I was enraptured and astounded at just how much more alive she seemed than on our first day.

Cynthia came next in a clean, maroon wrap gown. It was neither as fanciful or majestic as Sam’s nor as titillating and exhilarating as Beth’s. Cynthia wore it with grace and class befitting her, keeping herself out of the limelight, hiding the true depths of her character from view.

Finally, both Marjorie and Evgenia returned to us. Evgenia was wearing a full-length black gown, and the contrast with her pristine skin was impressive. She appeared almost regal, an unattainable thing you would only observe in paintings as you passed through the halls of a faraway kingdom, presumably embellished to make the picture more appealing.

Marjorie came cautiously to me and quietly pulled me off to the side as my companions were caught up in comparing and contrasting their dresses. She had done an excellent job highlighting them in distinct ways, dressing them all wonderfully while highlighting their individual traits.

“So, Mr. James, shall we discuss payment?”

“I’ve got to be honest, Marjorie, that might take some discussion, and I’m sorry about not being upfront. I have no idea the value you’ve provided me today, and I have no real idea of the value of my own labor. I had asked for these for a reason, though, and I hoped we could start there,” I said, offering her the bag of her gemstones back.

She furrowed her brow and tentatively took her belongings back. She started to open the bag while looking at my face and then looked into the bag when I gave nothing away. Her eyes tried to jump out of her head when she saw the contents.

“You filled all of them? What? How is this even possible?” Her eyes snapped back at me for answers. I shrugged, being no better informed than she was.

“I thought it might be useful. I don’t really know what else to offer, but I knew I could do that. I had hoped that would be a good starting point.”

She pulled out the gem I had started with, the largest of the bunch. Instead of the dreary maroon, it was now a piercing scarlet. The rough edges were polished and smooth, the newly glossy surface reflecting the lights in the room. She looked it over and ran her fingers along its edges, her eyes occasionally bouncing back to me. “Who are you?” she practically whispered.

“James. Sam and Beth have taken to calling me J, and I’m not sure I like it. I’ll live with it, I guess, since it makes them happy.” I paused briefly, reigning in my playfully obtuse answer, before continuing with an actual question. “So, I’m hoping you could help me out here. I don’t know where that puts us in terms of payment.”

Marjorie looked at me with confusion etched on her features. “I don’t think I can match this. The big one would’ve covered most of it. Knowing you could charge that one alone in an hour, I would’ve called fair for all of it. It’s so hard to find anyone willing to fill them as fast as I can use them. It takes a lot to make my off-the-shelf garments self-repairing and self-cleaning, and that’s ignoring specific requests entirely.”

I guess my idea had been decent enough, then. I cautiously offered, “So, we’re even?”

She stammered back, “Not close to even. I just told you one of these was fair for it. You did twenty of them.”

“As long as I’m not shorting you.”

She nodded and took the bag to the back. When she returned, I thanked her again. She didn’t have words and simply hugged Evgenia before waving goodbye. The vampire led us back to the busy streets and hailed a cab. The five of us piled in snugly, and Evgenia gave the cabbie an address. It was time to make our appearance at the court.

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The cab traveled through the city, eventually parking in front of the building where we had dinner the night before. I paid the cabbie through a phone app connected to the bank account I had been given.

We made our way up to the building and inside, and Evgenia guided us to the courtroom. I immediately found the church analogy accurate. The room we entered was somewhere between a theater and a church, with large benches lining the room in two groups and an aisle running through the center. There were balconies along the sides and the back of the room from a second floor with small groups of people watching the proceedings. Aisling was at the front of the room, sitting at a long table with several other people I didn’t recognize. They were listening to a man speak, the only other person standing in the room, as he complained that something had been stolen from him.

Evgenia led us to an almost empty bench, and I found myself wedged between Cynthia and her, struggling to get my newly elongated legs to fit comfortably in the seating. I simply observed as the man continued discussing how he had been wronged, but Evgenia began whispering to me and identifying other prominent people. Aisling had seen us enter, and she caught my eyes at one point before returning to listening to the man soliciting her judgement.

I tried to listen to both Evgenia and the man simultaneously and learned almost nothing either had said. I consoled myself by accepting that the expectations were that I made an appearance here, not that I fully assimilated myself today. Giving up on learning from the various speakers, I found myself looking around the room at all of the other people. Apart from the outrageous garments, ranging from abstract modern fashion to attire that reminded me of portraits of Victorian-era lords and ladies and everything conceivable in between, I saw nothing unusual. Everyone looked human and mundane and inconspicuous.

I looked closer and harder, trying to find anything peculiar to suggest that I wasn't just in a period-dressed theater group. After we had been sitting for ten minutes, I started to see things, and once I had started, I couldn’t stop. Beth must’ve started observing the same things because I heard her gasp and felt her surprise. I wondered how I had missed any of them to begin with. I could only assume that some kind of magic masked them initially, long enough that I would've been escorted out if I wasn't meant to be here.

There was a man in front of us with distinctly long, pointed ears. On his right, a woman had three fluffy tails swishing slowly back and forth across the bench. In front of them, a man had dark tufts of thick fur poking out from his shirt collar and ears, and I saw him lick his nose. It was rough and padded, not made of soft skin like a human’s would be, and the moisture glistened as he nodded along to the dialogue. One of the men up at the table with Aisling wasn’t using a chair because he had four legs and a horse’s body from which his torso rose. Even sitting on the floor like he was, he rose comfortably to the table. A woman on the other side of the aisle had green skin, and a crown of weaved flowers sat on her head. Behind her was a stocky, short man whose skin looked caked in mud. He brushed his nose, and some substance flaked off of him and fell to the floor.

A family on the left appeared mostly human but had odd proportions, their feet much longer than I expected, nearly as long as their forearms. Their teenage daughter twitched once, and after I saw that, I realized the entire family was jittery and unable to sit still.

My curiosity grew, and I leaned into Cynthia’s neck and whispered, “The family on the left, with the daughter about Beth's age. What are they?”

Cynthia stealthily observed the room before passing her gaze over the people I was asking about. She leaned back into me, “Werehares, I believe.”

That actually made a lot of sense to me. Rabbits were always twitchy and jittery in the wild, and the entire family embodied that perfectly. Their proportions made perfect sense when I mentally blended human and hare features.

While Cynthia answered my question, the family’s father caught me looking at him. His right leg was already jimmying briskly, but when our eyes met, his nearly jumped out of his head. His ears elongated, the ends flopped over, and I saw whiskers sprout from his face. His nose flattened and twitched violently before returning to normal a moment later. As I started to look away, I saw him leaning over to his wife, and her ears and whiskers flashed through for a moment.

Another fifteen minutes passed, and I looked over others and inwardly guessed what they could be. I had no accurate barometer for how I was doing — it’s not like I had a list to pick my guesses from. Still, that was more entertaining than listening to Aisling or her advisors handle petty disputes.

Eventually, there was a break in the arguments being presented, and when no one approached with any more complaints, Aisling made an announcement. She bellowed over the collected mass, much louder and more imposing than I would’ve thought possible.

“I have one matter to bring before the court myself.” Her piercing eyes found me in the crowded room, and she continued, “James, please rise.”

I bowed my head in deference to her and rose from my seat. The eyes of every other person in the building pored into me in an attempt to appraise my status in their hierarchy.

“James, do you swear to uphold the honor of the Seat, serving the just and furthering the truth as you can, else removing yourself from our society naught to ever return?”

Certainly, it would’ve been nice to have been given a script to read from. I had no idea being put on the spot like this was on the agenda, but I managed to invent something with the appropriate level of gravitas for the situation. “Your Highness, I swear it is so.”

She nodded, and the attention turned back to her, so I returned to my seat. She glanced around the room, and when no one stood to speak, she announced the following meeting dates before dismissing the room. She left through an antechamber behind the stage where she had been sitting, her advisors following her. The room began to empty out as the majority of the occupants departed.

I said to the women on either side of me, “That was it? I publically promise not to be naughty, or else I have to leave. Not exactly a binding oath there.”

Evgenia shrugged, “The act of giving your word to her signals to all others that you intend to reside here and contribute. Everyone knows the real agreements are done behind closed doors. Trying to get you to agree to anything significant in public would make it look like she was manipulating you, abusing the power of public pressure, and you couldn't be obligated to follow through.”

I thought about what she said and rolled it over in my mind. I guessed it made sense.

“Alright, that’s reasonable. Why didn’t Aisling introduce me or make a statement about who I was? This seems like a ritual without a purpose.”

Evgenia answered, “It was up to you to make a speech before answering if you were inclined to introduce yourself. I didn’t think that was rational for your situation, so I let you simply answer her prompt. She wouldn’t have requested your appearance if you weren’t important, but the cursory nature of your responses made it seem like a formality. You acted perfectly like a powerful but otherwise ordinary foreigner adapting to life here. I hope I haven't overstepped my station, James.”

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

I shook my head, sighed, and sunk into the bench, “I feel like a freshman going through those bullshit orientation presentations that tell you literally nothing. I suppose this was useful, just not for me.”

Cynthia placed a hand on my shoulder and said, “You performed exquisitely, and it will make sense in time.”

“Alright, I guess. I suppose I should head over to the gym and meet the security guy. What are you guys going to do?”

Evgenia answered first, asserting, “I have a few pieces of paperwork that need to be filed here, and some requests from Antonin for your instruction that need to be passed along.”

Cynthia paused and then cautiously answered, “I had no plans and was going to return to your apartment to relax. Honestly, I’m bewildered that you’re still functioning, because I’m certifiably exhausted and I haven’t had my entire universe overturned. I’m going to go and sit on the couch and take the rest of the afternoon to do nothing.”

Sam leaned on her mother’s shoulder to squeak, “I was going to take Beth to talk to an advisor at the community college. See what we’d need to do to get enrolled and if there’s anything interesting they offer.”

I nodded. That sounded reasonable. It was the middle of the semester now, but talking to someone wasn’t the worst idea if we were going to be living in Philadelphia for the foreseeable future. I felt a pang of regret that I wouldn’t be finishing my own degree. Three years of toiling for no direct benefit was disappointing, but the change in circumstances had led to an unbelievable opportunity anyway.

Sam had framed her proposition as if it were for Beth, but I could tell she was doing it for herself, too. She felt nervous, unsure of herself, and uncertain. I didn’t want to go digging at her in public or when we didn’t have time, but I filed it away to ask her when we were alone. Beth, meanwhile, seemed eager and yearning to do this. She had contemplated it in her past, but her old life was too unstable to commit. Yet, as my emotions rolled around in my head, both of them reached out to touch my arm, compelled to check that I was alright. I wasn’t exactly, but I was at least moving in that direction, and I thought that what they were doing made sense.

“That sounds like an admirable idea.”

With our plans decided and the building now conspicuously deserted, I had Evgenia show me to a public bathroom. I changed out of the dress clothes and returned into my familiar athletic garb. I found myself incredibly surprised that they actually felt less comfortable. I gave my belongings and a kiss to Beth, as she was going to return to the apartment to change, and departed the courthouse.

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I felt mildly anxious about my upcoming physical evaluation with the security officer. I had no idea what it would entail and was stuck imagining the unpleasant fitness challenges I had done for gym class in school, except now I was out of practice and in a new body I wasn't yet familiar with. Which was the point, but irrational anxiety didn’t follow logic all that well. My trepidations were in no way mirrored by my dragon, who was desperate to be done talking and listening. A physical excursion was exactly what we needed to clear our heads, he insisted.

My walk ended far too soon, with my head brimming with nerves. I pulled the door open to the indistinct gym I had been given the address of and found myself in a clean but forgettable lobby, a second locked door barring further progress. I opened up my phone, scrolled to the picture of the QR code I had taken, and passed it through the scanner.

The door unlatched, and I was greeted with a set of stairs that turned ninety degrees before reaching the second floor’s landing. I was in a second lobby, where a bored man in a branded shirt sat lounging behind a desk. His eyes perked up when I didn’t immediately pass by him, and he paused the stream playing on his laptop and raised an eyebrow in question as I approached.

“Hey, I have an appointment with Sergeant Lyon. I wasn’t really given a time, though.”

He sighed and pressed a button on the walkie-talkie that was haphazardly sitting on the counter.

“Zo, your VIP’s here.”

Two rapid bursts of static came back, and the man sat up.

“Sarge’ll be over in a coupla minutes. You don’t really look like the usual VIP, which is pretty good for you. Sarge doesn’t keep many appointments and doesn’t take it easy on the ones that keep showing up. Take a seat over there for now.”

With his social obligations complete, he returned to lounging in the chair and watching the video on his computer. I listened to the air conditioning fans cycle on and off and the occasional sounds from people working out in the room beyond. The relative silence was painful as I sat on a mismatched waiting chair that was too small for me.

What came through the archway from the gym proper and into the lobby was an unpredictable surprise. Sergeant Lyon, it seemed, wasn’t what I had foolishly expected. It was a girl who I had known a lifetime ago, and Antonin had mispronounced her name. He had said 'Lion,' the animal, but seeing her again, I knew it was pronounced 'Lyon,' the same as the city in France.

Sergeant Zoey Lyon was walking out of the gym to collect me. Younger sister of Kyle Lyon. My old best friend’s younger sister was in front of me. She was three years younger than us, and I hadn’t seen her since Kyle and I had graduated high school three years ago. He had never returned home, and his family had never come to visit, so I hadn’t seen her.

She took her earbuds out, shook her sweaty blonde hair back out of her face, and her grey eyes looked over at me from the entranceway. As surprising as it was to have her unexpectedly reappear in my life, what she did next was so implausible that I simply stood frozen in shock.

Our eyes met, and her pupils dilated to completely fill her eyes. Something primal and bestial seemed to overtake her, and she leaped at me from nearly ten feet away, a growl echoing from her chest. It was good that my dragon had rushed to the surface in response because I was utterly unprepared. He managed to catch and hold her against our body, where she wrapped all of her exquisite limbs around us. A veritable multitude of emotions filled the room in rapid succession — surprise, disbelief, joy, elation… passion, arousal.

Zoey had always been tall, leggy, and athletic. She reminded me of a basketball forward, lean enough to be explosive and durable yet robust and muscular enough for physical competition. Frankly, she was no longer the skinny runner she had been when I knew her before, and her imposing and dominant frame contradicted her unseemly display here in the gym lobby.

She was nuzzling me, her arms wrapped around the nape of my neck and her face buried under my chin. Rubbing her face back and forth, she was letting out vigorously needy growls. She had begun using my hips as leverage to grind her pelvis into mine when my human brain caught up to what had happened, and I comprehended the smell coming off of her.

To say that Zoey was aroused was a titanic understatement. The lust and desire dripping from her every pore washed over me like a tsunami making landfall. The sheer magnitude easily explained why she had dropped all propriety to leap into the arms of a man she hadn’t seen in years and grind herself against him. I was still indescribably confused when her lust shifted into adoration and affection. She relaxed her painfully coiled legs and lifted her head back to look at me.

Her eyes were still fully dilated, but the fierce obsessiveness had faded. Her eyelids drooped down into her irises, and she giggled unintelligibly. She wiggled the tip of her nose against mine.

“Hi, Zoey. It’s good to see you, too.”

My words seemed to connect with some part of her brain as her eyes opened again, and new emotions came to greet my nose. Confusion, disorientation, shame, incredulity, despair, embarrassment. Zoey traversed through a second rollercoaster of reactions in a few seconds, relaxing her legs further and slipping off me. She settled on humiliation, glanced at the oblivious attendant buried in his laptop, grabbed my hand, and pulled me onto the gym floor. She continued through the machines and past a row of treadmills to a door labeled ‘STAFF,’ pulling me through and locking it behind us.

When Zoey turned to look at me, her voice and body language were firm and accusatory, but the pain in her eyes and emotions revealed her true vulnerability.

“You’re not were.” The way she spat the words made me feel like I had done something wrong simply by existing.

“Ahh, no.” I stammered out, guessing that she was implying I wasn’t a werecreature. Lying certainly wouldn’t help.

The concoction brewing suggested she was rapidly shifting into hopelessness. Somehow, I had unknowingly destroyed something precious for her. What a mess.

“What the fuck are you, James? The court said I had a brand new shifter VIP to acclimate. You didn’t have anything like this before. How did you hide this from everyone?”

The hopelessness was an all-consuming void of despondency that threatened to devour every desire I had ever had. How Zoey managed to talk to me with all of this brewing underneath her veneer of civility astounded me. My dragon soul was in such discomfort from the inexplicable situation we found ourselves in. He just wanted to work out, but we were dealing with another temperamental besotted female for some reason.

“It’s recent. I only just found out about it myself. I moved here Saturday. Why did you drag me into here?”

Her eyes looked in absolute anguish, and I could see a tear forming in one. Her voice gave no hints of her pain when she spoke, and if I wasn’t overwhelmed by the extrasensory indications, it would’ve been easy to miss.

“You don’t feel it then?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I felt resigned to the fate of shattering her world.

“Ok, um, just, stay here for a minute. I dropped my earbuds earlier. I’ll be right back.”

She slipped back out the door and into the gym. I sat on the edge of the cheap plastic desk and stewed in regret, unsure how I could have possibly handled the situation better. I didn’t understand why things had escalated so quickly.

Zoey returned fifteen minutes later with her face cleaned of makeup, but her eyes puffy and irritated. She had cried hard and then washed her face. I still didn’t know what had happened. The most remarkable change was in the emotion she was exuding. No longer capitulating in misery, she simply had no discernable output at all. Besides the possibility of her magically masking her feelings, my only logical conclusion was that she had clamped down on her sorrow so wholly as to stamp it out of existence. At least, for the moment. It would probably return with a vengeance as soon as she was alone and done with her job for the day; The haunted, detached look in her eyes and flat, emotionless tone in her voice left no doubts.

“The dossier I was given said that you were a shifter who hadn’t fully embraced your physical attributes yet. I was going to expose you to some resistance training to gauge your development, and then we’ll try shifting on Thursday. Have you done any training recently?”

It was painful to be spoken to with impersonal professionalism when I had known this girl for years. I had to try and get some answers. I was experiencing whiplash from interacting with her.

“Zoey, could you explain what the hell happened? Please?”

She winced when I said her name, and for a moment, her agony returned. It was quickly stifled and smothered under her discipline, and her stony, dispassionate eyes met mine.

“No. I can’t. Not… Not today.”

Instead, she gave me a complete crash course in generalized strength training with cold, mechanical efficiency. She explained how training with my newfound beast would integrate my human and mythical sides. It would train my human side to understand that it was no longer bound by the realities I had been confined by previously.

We ran through a series of exercises that she said would cover the entire body effectively. Squat, Bench Press, Deadlifts, Overhead Press, Pullups. I wasn’t exactly unfamiliar with what she was teaching me — I had been an athlete before Sam broke down my door. As a swimmer, though, much of my work had been done in the pool, with more targeted resistance training.

When I laid down to perform warm-up bench reps under her watchful gaze, I was surprised at just how much more aware I was of my body. The weight was easier than I expected because the dragon soul was intimately attuned to every muscle fiber, and he allowed me to use them much more efficiently. It felt wrong, as my limbs being longer had changed how I moved the bar and messed with my muscle memory, but it also felt more right than ever before, my mind infinitely more receptive to my body.

On top of a greater connection, the whole body makeover he had done appeared to be more than superficial. I worked up to a set of five at 315, which felt moderately challenging, before we transitioned to other movements. Two months ago, I had set a personal best of 235 for a single rep during an ego lifting session after the swim season ended. I encountered similar experiences with everything else we attempted. I was ecstatic — the dragon was disappointed and felt there was much work to do.

During the moments when Zoey was teaching me, I attempted to connect with her. Asking about her was met with stonewalled silence and intense glares. Asking about her parents or Kyle earned me a few noncommittal words. Trying to engage Zoey on anything beyond the strength and conditioning she was being paid to teach me was a bonus lesson in futility. Something was causing her to reject every opportunity I offered for conversation. Her emotions varied throughout our training. She waffled between despair, self-loathing, detestation, desire, and bargaining. Trying to connect with her and being shut out harder with each attempt was unsettling.

After wrapping up our rapid evaluatory workout, Zoey laid out a six-week, four-day-a-week program for me. She wanted me to run it once as a human, then rerun it in my halfway form, and then cycle between the two. The volume and frequency I saw would’ve been insane for an unenhanced human to sustain.

She retrieved a key tag from the negligent attendant’s desk, scanned it several times, and begrudgingly gave it to me. This gym was open twenty-four hours a day, and Aisling had covered my first six months of dues. I was expected to use it.

As the meeting was coming to a conclusion, Zoey asked me a question I hadn’t expected. “You can fly, right?”

I slowly nodded, “I haven’t before, but I think that I should be able to. I haven’t tried. I’ve probably spent less than an hour in any sort of shift, and I’ve never gone fully through.”

“Alright. Bring a towel on Thursday. Be here at ten; ask for me if I’m not waiting.”

With that, she retreated to the staff room and left me standing in the gym lobby, entirely befuddled. I really hoped that when I saw her on Thursday, she would be able to interact with me instead of simply going through the motions behind a barricade of professionalism.

----------------------------------------

I returned to the apartment in a mental haze, baffled by the experience at the gym, unsure if it was something unique to Zoey or if my ignorance of this new world was leaving me confused. As I opened the door, I had concluded that I would pick at Cynthia’s mind over dinner, hopeful that I could at least resolve some aspects of my workout. As luck would have it, Cynthia was lounging on one of the couches, her legs raised up on the pillows, reading a book, while Evgenia was standing in the kitchen, slicing vegetables for a stew warming up on the stove.

I started to ask, “Hey, can I ask you two something?” but, before I could continue Evgenia whirled around and growled aggressively. Her appearance subtly changed, her pale skin icing over ghostly, and her black hair becoming a void all light died in. Her eyes underwent a massive change, the cold blue shimmering and fading behind a dark grey layer. I caught a hint of pure, unfiltered hatred coming from her before it was replaced by dedicated, inquisitive curiosity.

Evgenia bounded across the room, covering the distance in three strides, and grabbed the collar of my sweaty tank top. She visually inspected my face and neck before smelling me closely and then shocked me by licking my skin. I was going to admonish her for this entirely unpredictable action, but she promptly gagged hard and let go of me.

Cynthia had stood up but remained on the other side of the couch. She warily asked, “Is everything alright over there?”

Evgenia worked her mouth open and shut a dozen times and then grimaced when she swallowed, still put out from licking me. She answered firmly but shuddered in distaste, “He had relations with a wolf.” Her antipathy was palpable from the sneer on her face.

Cynthia looked disappointed when her gaze returned to me. She left her question unsaid and simply waited for an explanation, which of course, I didn’t have.

“Could we sit down? Are Beth and Sam here? I’m perplexed about what happened at the gym today, and I was hoping you could help me understand, especially now.”

I was assured that Beth and Sam hadn’t returned yet, as they had been slow to leave. Cynthia took steps to ensure the dinner wouldn’t spoil while we talked, and then she joined Evgenia and me at the dining room table. I explained what had happened, and when I alluded to the incredibly similar experience of being attacked by both Zoey and Evgenia, the vampire was visibly ashamed.

I explained just how devastated and inconsolable Zoey had seemed but how she had somehow managed to continue doing her job. Cynthia and Evgenia shared a few looks throughout my tale that worried me. I also noticed during my explanation that Evgenia had a massive gash through the palm of her left hand. She must have sliced herself absentmindedly when she violently reacted to me, but the incision didn’t seem to be bleeding like I would have expected on a human.

When I had finished recounting my experience, Cynthia took the lead, “So, she was distraught that you weren’t a werebeing? But she still went through her entire lesson for the day, right?”

“That’s what it seemed like. She was emotionally destroyed but had shut it off and continued teaching.”

Evgenia uncharacteristically swore, “Cука блять. I hate weres. I hate wolves.” The intensity of her outburst caught me off guard.

Cynthia gave her a pained smile and said, “I think you’re Zoey’s mate.”

“But, I only just saw her again for the first time today. When would she have bonded with me like I did with Beth? She had a reaction before I ever touched her.”

Evgenia interjected, “Weres of monogamous species have a different kind of mate than whatever your unique connection with Beth is. They claim it’s a gift from their goddess, but it usually functions like a curse. The theory is that a portion of a weres soul is shared with another at birth. When they meet the person, they finally feel complete.”

Cynthia gave a slightly more nuanced explanation, “I would anticipate that Zoey recognized you as her mate and leaped at you, expecting you to be similarly overwhelmed. She probably didn’t even recognize who you were, just that you had a piece of her that had been missing forever. She’s going to be forever drawn to you. It’s actually not dissimilar to your connection with Beth, except you had no choice about Zoey. When she sobered, she realized you weren’t were, probably because you weren't enthusiastically rutting her on the floor. She doesn’t have a piece of your soul to make you wholly enraptured with her. She’s been cursed to experience the choice of a completely imbalanced relationship with you or never feeling whole again.”

I exhaled hard and sunk into my seat. “So, simply by existing, I’m torturing another person. But why did she completely shut down and not even try to interact with me? If I were her predestined mate, surely she would’ve at least tried to inform me of it?”

Cynthia rocked her head back and forth in contemplation, “Without talking to her, I cannot say. It’s possible she was simply overwhelmed and was refusing to acknowledge reality. I’m not sure I want to speculate beyond that.”

“Well, I’m meeting her again on Thursday. She was going to teach me how to shift fully. I just hope she’ll actually open up to me. Maybe if I talk about knowing what she’s going through, she will.”

Cynthia softly said, “Be careful with her, James. She’ll be fragile, and as a wolf, she’ll be prone to some kind of outburst. Threatened animals react poorly.”

Evgenia bristled when Cynthia said that and mumbled under her breath, “I hate wolves. Loud, impulsive, smelly, flea-ridden animals.”

“Is interacting with Zoey going to be a problem, Evgenia? Are you going to accost me whenever I come home after training with her?”

She sighed and said, “No, I’m terribly sorry. That was an incredibly juvenile reaction. I just have some history with wolves and I would prefer to not have any more.”

I accepted her blunt answer and assumed she had no inclination to speak further, so I asked a different question.

“Will your hand be alright?”

She quickly removed it from the table and hid it in her lap.

“It’s fine. I can’t get infected; There’s nothing to worry about.”

Cynthia spoke, “Oh, darling, what did you do?” Somehow, the human woman managed to wiggle the vampire's arm back onto the table where she could inspect it.

Cynthia continued, “That must smart something awful, Evgenia. Do you have blood here to recover with?”

The vampire aggressively responded, “No!” When she realized how she had reacted, she bashfully elaborated, “I haven’t acquired a store of blood to house here, but it wasn’t particularly high on my priorities. I’ll talk to the authorities tomorrow about a release for me to retain.”

I asked, “Cut me off if this is rude since I know literally nothing, but couldn’t you just borrow from one of us?”

Both women looked at me like I had wings and a tail sticking out of my clothes. I didn’t, currently. I hoped.

Evgenia stammered out a largely incomprehensible, “I, ah, that’s not, no. No. Thank you.”

Cynthia gave a slightly more informative answer, “James, the act of actually drawing blood from a voluntary living host is, how can I put this delicately, intimate? Personal? Sensual?”

Oh. I had just propositioned Evgenia. What a mess.

Evgenia tacked on to Cynthia’s statement, “I’d rather not consume blood if I could avoid it. There are some complications I would like to avoid.”

Cynthia's confused expression meant I wasn’t the only one in the dark on that issue. I wasn’t going to press her further after my previous debacle, my foot already firmly in my mouth.

“Could I try healing it? I don’t really know what I’m doing — it would be useful to see how this actually works, in case of something serious in the future.”

I could tell both women wanted to reject me out of hand, but as they turned it over in their minds, they concluded that my request was reasonable. With no further ado, Evgenia reached her hand over to me.

With her hand in mine and a different awkward tension in the air, I almost wished they had said no. Should I just lick her hand? Should I lick my own fingers and then rub her wound with it? Did I need to shift first, or did my human saliva also have healing properties? I assumed it did since Beth had virtually only interacted with my human mouth and had seen exceptional results, but I wasn’t confident.

In the end, I gingerly cradled her hand under my mouth and allowed some saliva to drip into her wound. I carefully dragged my index finger along the gash, ensuring my saliva fully saturated the entire injury while desperately attempting to ignore the cringe-inducing movement of flesh beneath my finger. All of us watched, enraptured, as over the next minute, her flesh began knitting itself back together.

I felt a weak connection with her hand during this process, and I could immediately tell that one end of the gouge would need more. Instead of drooling more saliva into her hand, I directly licked the spot that needed my attention. Evgenia giggled and then diffidently said that it tickled, embarrassed at her breach of decorum. I paid it no mind.

After a further few minutes, her hand's once inch-deep rift had disappeared entirely, leaving not even a scar or blemish as evidence that it had ever existed. It was a remarkably straightforward affair; simply applying my saliva to the wound had restored her hand. It was reassuring to know that my healing was uncomplicated because everything else in my new life seemed to be.

As she watched her hand regrow in front of her, Evgenia’s emotions shifted. I could smell her agitation and distress from smelling a werewolf fade thoroughly. A new scent, a quiet curiosity blended with mild hope, replaced the pungent stress. Evgenia had more thoughts about my healing than she spoke of. I wished that she would feel comfortable enough to share them with me soon.

Evgenia thanked me, departed the table, washed her hands in the sink, and returned to preparing dinner. Cynthia returned to the couch, relaxing and lounging. I felt that I desperately needed a shower, but I had a hankering to use our massive tub for the first time. I was tired, physically, emotionally, and I realized magically as well. I wanted to soak in a hot bath and hold Beth and decompress. She wasn’t home yet, but Sam had texted Cynthia to say they were returning, so I wouldn’t have long to wait. That was a blessing and a curse.

I laid down on my bed and tried to conceive of a way to tell Beth what I needed to. I couldn’t lie to her about how my meeting with Zoey had gone, but I wondered if it would change her mind about her plan to incorporate Sam into our relationship. I was terrified that she would say enough was enough and that she would head for the hills. It was the reasonable thing to do.

I was so engrossed in my thoughts that I missed them coming home. Beth came into our room, pulled me to the edge of the bed, and kissed me.

“Come on back to the real world and out of your head. Evgenia said dinner was ready.”

I nodded and started getting up. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“Save it for afterwards. You need to eat something.”

Dinner was a quiet affair. Sam led the conversation, talking about how much she had loved her dress from earlier and how cool it was to feel like a celebrity at a gala. She spoke of how incompetent the people at the community college were and how they couldn’t tell her what would be available next semester or what she or Beth would be qualified for. I was sullen, anxious about talking to Beth, and curious about Evgenia’s comments about consuming blood. Beth could feel my tension and didn’t encourage the conversation.

Evgenia talked about the food she made – borscht. Beets, Carrots, Potatoes, and Beef, served with a dollop of sour cream. It was tart, and the vinegar was surprisingly strong; Overall not a flavor combination I was particularly accustomed to. She told us how her parents had always made it with cabbage because her village grew that in significant quantities, and she had grown to hate the leafy vegetable as a little girl. Given that she had done all the preparation, I wouldn’t have complained even if I had desired any. I was glad she seemed more comfortable around me today, even after my boneheaded decision to force the dress on her this morning, although it seemed like she was more relaxed because she had things to do.

Sam kept the discussion alive as long as possible, but we finished our meal in reflective silence. When everyone else was finished, I asked Beth to run a bath for us. Her eyes illuminated, and she cheerfully scampered to the bathroom. I washed what was left of the dishes — Evgenia had already cleaned much of what she used for cooking during the process.

It gave me a few minutes reprieve to brainstorm how to broach my confusing day with Beth at the very least. I found myself undressing in the bathroom all too quickly, with no intelligent plan forthcoming in my mind.

I regretted telling Beth to run the water as soon as I dipped my first foot into the tub. It was blisteringly hot, and I was sweating before I even submerged. The tub was clearly designed to be used communally, as it was large enough for multiple people and had a shallow bench running around the perimeter. I maneuvered carefully into one of the corners, and Beth came and sat on my lap. She swooned at me, clearly enjoying the luxurious amenities we could use together.

We reposed for an indulgent period of time, idling in the warm waters and allowing the silence from dinner to continue.

Eventually, Beth’s impulsiveness overcame her patience to wait for me, and she whispered, “I know you have something to tell me. You’ve been guilty again all night, and you barely talked to Sam at dinner. It started before we even got here to change. What happened at the gym?”

For the second time today, I explained what had happened. I continued right on, explaining Evgenia’s reaction to me smelling of Zoey and what Cynthia and Evgenia thought it all meant. Beth quietly contemplated what I said and was surprisingly reserved, not asking any questions or interrupting. I could feel she wanted to. When I finished speaking, we returned to silence. Beth lazily ran her hand up and down my thigh while she thought.

“Is there anyone else I need to know about?”

I didn’t understand what she meant. “I’m sorry — What?”

“Anyone else from your past who’s going to show up and claim to be your long-lost lover or tied your soul or a twin swapped at birth or something else crazy like that. I like Sam, and she and Cynthia have been very good to us. I can’t imagine being separated from you; you said they think Zoey is going through that right now. I can't help but feel for her if it's true. You need to bring her here on Thursday. But is there anyone else? A girlfriend who you only broke up with because she had to move across the country? A step-sister who you protected from bullies at school?”

I wanted to shrink down to nothingness and disappear. I wanted to hide in the deepest, darkest hole in the bowels of the earth and never be seen again. There was just no way to justify my actions here. Beth was already predicting that I would be inviting more. She must hate being tied to me.

Beth shifted slightly and put a hand softly on my cheek.

“Please stop thinking like that. None of this was your fault. I just meant to laugh a bit. It must be crazy to have Sam and this Zoey chick show up out of the blue after years of not seeing them. And then they both want you. Wait, actually, did you ask about why Zoey didn’t want you in school?”

“No. Neither of them seemed to know much more than what they told me. I’ll ask Antonin tomorrow. I want to ask if Sam knew the Lyon’s are werewolves, but I don’t really want to put her on blast for not telling me. It’s been a hectic week; There’s no telling what else has gone unsaid. I’m exhausted now. Can we go sit on the couch and relax and have a quiet night? I’d like to just hold you.”

Beth blushed demurely and then whispered directly into my ear, “I’d love that. I’m still sore from yesterday; just relaxing like this was nice. I’d never really had the chance to before.”

So that’s what we did. We sat on the couch, the TV played in the background, and I stewed in my thoughts, trying to understand how my life had gotten so insane. Beth curled up in my lap, her body comfortably fitting against my chest. Sam shifted to lie against my side, and I wrapped an arm around her. She held my hand against her chest with both of her own hands.

Ultimately, I wanted a way to feel like I was contributing. I was bound to Beth, and apparently, Zoey was attached to me if she ever wanted to be complete. Beth was trying her hardest to include Sam, who was quite amenable. I didn’t really understand why any of them were interested. I felt horrible. I knew, logically, that none of this was out of malice or immorality, but I still felt guilty that I couldn’t dedicate my entirety to one of them. It felt wrong. The dragon’s silence was prominent. I fully expected him to have supplied some arrogant, sexist comment about how claiming all of these girls was actually good for them but instead, he had nothing.

I went to bed, hoping against all rationality that I would sleep deeply and wake refreshed, with a clean mindset and ambition to tackle my problems. I desperately wanted to live an uncomplicated existence and wished I was back at school for a moment as the void of sleep claimed me.