Tansy watched from the corner as Frank played a slow song for the room. The effect was instant and palpable as a wave of serenity emanated from Frank's general direction and washed over the assembled group, leaving them delirious with love.

His voice was mesmerizing.

Tansy had thought she might be immune, given that music rarely moved her. She was proven wrong about twenty-five seconds in when she nearly swooned as Frank lingered on a single, piercing word. The man's voice was memorable enough when he spoke, but something otherworldly happened when he sang; his voice came alive and reached out with silken fingers to caress her soul and... was that a tear on her cheek? Was that her own hand on her heart, willing it to simmer down?

Was that reticent Leila reaching out and holding the hand of a stranger? And was that Cyrus laying his head on Ray's chest while Ray rubbed his back? Somehow the gesture didn't feel like an effect of the music, but even so, it was a far cry from their body language only moments before.

Similar scenes played out around the room, with some folks visibly weeping a minute into the song. She wondered how much of it was the effect of Kinship amplifying Frank's ability in the presence of not just one but three other bonded allies.

Tansy slumped to the floor and wedged herself deeper into the corner, fully submitting to the peaceful harmony.

Then she looked at Frank.

He sang of being an easy man, not restless or untrue. Of being in his element wherever he laid his head, and of waiting for someone to walk through a door and recognize him as home.

Home. That was the word that got her, every time.

Tears streamed down his face. He stood unsteady, gasping between verse and refrain, singing as if unseen hands wrenched the words from him by force. His body rocked and trembled even as he masterfully controlled the transformative chords that held his friends spellbound. For a moment, he made wild eye contact with Tansy, and she reached out with her hand as if she could soothe and steady him from across the room.

As the energy of the final note diminished, Frank groaned and staggered sideways. Ray reached out and grabbed him, and he and Cyrus helped Frank onto a couch. Frank leaned back and rested his head, staring at the ceiling, still trembling, still crying.

"Jesus fuck," he whispered. "It won't end."

"Is it good?"

"Ah," he gasped. "Too.. fucking... much."

Cyrus laughed.

The dancer, Josephine, reached out and touched his arm. "What do you need?"

"Don't touch me," he drawled. "I can't take it."

She pulled back and looked at Ray.

"Please," Elio said, "give him a moment."

After a few minutes of awkward silence, with Frank panting and moaning incoherently, Leila said, "Do you believe him now?"

A dozen emphatic nods.

"Good," she said, "Cause this is all for you."

They looked at Frank.

Ray laughed quietly. "Sorry honey, but I call bullshit. You haven't known Frank long enough to know this, but he will seek this shit out wherever he goes. This might be the first time you see him in a state, but if you stick with him, it sure as fuck won't be the last."

"For real," Cyrus said.

Josephine shook her head. "Yes, yes, but this is different. Isn't it, Frank?"

"Yes," he gasped.

She laughed. "Good! About damn time you get what you deserve." Then Josephine looked at Tansy and smiled an infuriatingly knowing smile.

"Frank, my man," Ray said. "Let's get you up to a bed."

"Noooo."

"It's alright, buddy. We got this." He pulled Frank from the couch. Once Frank was somewhat steady, Ray turned to Cyrus and said, "Take him to our room."

Cyrus took one side and Josephine took the other, and together they led Frank up the stairs. A minute later, Cyrus came back down alone.

Suddenly, Tansy couldn't breathe. The room squeezed in too close, too warm. The air was too still. She closed her eyes and shook her head to rid herself of whatever the hell had a grip on her. When she slowly blinked the room back into focus, she looked up to see Ray standing over her while folks behind him broke free of the trance and moved around, unburdened by whatever held her to the floor.

Ray reached out, and she tentatively took his hand, breathing hard so as not to cry.

"Hey," he said softly. For someone with enough mass for two men, Ray had the gentlest touch. He stroked her shoulder. "Look at me, sweetheart."

"I..." she said, trailing off as she shook her head and looked at her feet. "I can't."

"That's alright, then. Just listen. Josephine is a friend to Frank. If he wants to tell you more, he can. But she is only trying to get a rise out of you. And probably to test you. You don't need to worry about them up there."

Composing herself, she said, "Thank you, but it's really none of my business."

"Oh? Could have fooled me."

"We're not... I don't..." She heaved a great big sigh and looked Ray in the eye. "I barely even know him, Ray. It's okay."

"Uh huh," he said. "Gotcha. What I said stands, though."

She nodded.

"One more thing? You do. You know him. Everyone who meets him knows him. There's only one Frank, honey—the one you see."

He squeezed her shoulder one last time and took a deep breath. "Drink?"

"Please!" she said, exhaling with her full body.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

An hour later, the effect had fully worn off. Frank and Josephine were still upstairs, which Tansy had thought about every minute of the past sixty.

"I have a question," Leila said.

Ray said, "Shoot."

"What's ten?"

He cocked his head. "Frank didn't tell you?"

She shook her head.

"Huh." He considered that for a moment. "Well, you know he was a street kid?"

"Street kid?"

"After X," Ray said. "Lots of us were. Kids who lost their families but were too old or maybe too smart to go into the few homes that opened up." He shook his head slowly. "It was no good, Leila. No good at all. Kids went missing left and right. Literally walking down the street, you look back and your buddy is just... gone. Forever gone."

Cyrus put a hand on Ray's leg.

"Some of us found each other. Looked out for each other. Made each other family. Forever fucking family, you know? Take one, take half of us, we still have the rest. We still have family."

Cyrus nodded.

"There were ten of us back then, at the beginning. There are always ten of us, just... not the same ten all the time."

"Nine now," someone said.

Ray looked at them. "Nine now," he repeated. "I guess we have a spot open. Damn."

"Bianca?" Tansy said.

"Yeah."

"So Frank feels like it's his fault because he didn't look out for her? Because that's what he was supposed to do—look out for one of the Ten?"

"Exactly," Ray said.

"Do you blame him? For her?" Tansy asked.

"What do you think?"

"It doesn't matter what I think," she said, speaking slowly and choosing her words carefully. "It only matters what Frank thinks."

Ray gave her a long, steady look. "Fuck."

Tansy nodded, glad he caught her meaning. "Well," she said, "I desperately need a nap. Is there a place—"

"Yes!" Ray said. "I'm sorry, I should have offered. Come with me."

Elio spoke up from his very popular spot on the couch. "We must leave soon."

Tansy nodded.

Frank woke in the arms of Josephine. He rolled over and traded places, spooning her instead.

"You okay?" she whispered.

"Yeah," he said. "Thanks for being here."

"Always, Frankie."

A few minutes passed and their breathing synced, which comforted him.

"I miss her."

"I know you do."

"I..."

"I know, Frankie. It's okay. Those fuckers will pay."

"Maybe."

She turned to face at him and pressed her forehead to his. She touched his chest, trailing her fingers along the edge of the scales where they met his skin. "I can see new ones at the edges. You were right."

"Yeah. Did you not get them?"

"No. I was glad. Now I feel like maybe I missed out."

"Be happy you can just exist, J. This might be what gets me. This might be what gets all of us."

"Like a fucking scavenger, feeding on X leftovers."

"Hmm."

"If you die, I'll miss the fuck out of you, Frank Chaplin."

"I know."

“Hey. Tansy?”

“Yeah.”

“How bad?”

He was quiet for a minute. “The worst, babe.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Hmm. I can’t explain it.”

"Don’t then. Turn around so I can hold you again."

So he did.

BOOM

The blast shook the windows and left ripples in Frank's water glass. He rolled over to an empty bed. He zipped his pants on the way out the bedroom door and bounded down the stairs.

"Ray?" he yelled. "Elio? Where the fuck is everyone?"

Ray met him at the top of the lounge steps. "Where was it?"

"I don't know," Frank replied.

Within seconds, the whole house had gathered in the living room, nearly twenty folks waiting for a second blast, or sirens, or shots fired—anything that would give them a clue.

Cyrus stood at the front door, peering through the curtains. "Ah, shit. I shoulda known." He turned to Ray. "Fucking Chig."

Ray muttered under his breath just as the frantic 2-3 knock sounded from the door. Cyrus looked questioningly at Ray, who shook his head.

"Go away!" Cyrus squeaked. "Nobody in or out. Boss's orders."

"Let me in!"

"Move along, Chigger! You're not welcome here."

"I ain't moving along, Cy."

"The fuck you're not," Ray bellowed.

"I won't! I swear to god I'll stand right here on your doorstep, motherfuckers. You hear the sirens, Ray? Your choice, man."

"You are a dead man," Ray shouted.

"Either way, Ray. Either fucken way."

Ray nodded to Cyrus, then took off back toward the lounge. He stopped and turned around. "All hands," he said in an ominous tone. Everyone in the room except Cyrus and Frank followed Ray as Elio and Leila emerged from an adjacent room.

Cyrus opened the door, and a scruffy, 40-something man stumbled in, looking like he had just slept off a whole string of benders in one of Strawberry Mansion's many dark and narrow alleys.

"Jesus Christ, you reek," Cyrus said, pulling his shirt up over his nose.

"Fucking Chigger," Frank mumbled, spitting to rid his mouth of the word.

Chig looked him up and down. "The fuck you doing here?" he said in his mixed and muddled Irish/Philly accent. “Skitter on back to Wharton, ya hairy fucken river rat. You one of those mutants now?"

"Look in a goddam mirror, you fuck ugly plug of rancid smegma."

Chig took a step toward Frank and reached for his zipper. "Look here, Frankie Boy, I know you missed your Chigger Daddy, so save the sweet talk and open wide, baby. Let's get this over with already."

Leila made a gagging sound just as Tansy came down the stairs and leaned on the door frame. Frank looked at Tansy, Tansy looked at Chigger, and Frank saw the ghost of something pass over her face. Recognition? Fear? No sooner had it registered than it was gone, replaced by the usual placid detachment.

"No fucken way," Chigger whispered. "Little Cammy's all grown up. Well, well. Ain't you just a sight for sore eyes."

Frank looked back and forth between them in confusion.

Chigger whistled low and took a step toward Tansy. She flinched, almost imperceptibly, but enough for Frank to notice and step between them.

"Oh, yeah?" Chigger said, laughing. "Got this cunt on the line? Ha! Fucken figures. Just your type, ain't he, baby girl?"

"Afraid you got it all wrong again, Chig."

"Oh, yeah? She free then? I wouldn't mind me some sweet Cam—"

"Her name is Tansy."

Chig's mouth dropped open. He looked past Frank to Tansy, who met his gaze head on.

"Tan—" Chigger said, then burst out laughing. "Fucken Tansy? And you believed it? Ah, you are one sorry motherfucker, Frank. What else she pulling over those pretty blue eyes of yours?"

For a split second, Frank hesitated. Chig saw it and pounced.

"Oh man, you got it bad, huh Frankie? She bat her pretty eyelashes at ya? Make you feel like a big man? You always were a sucker for the sad ones, eh Frankie? Ha! You two? Made for each other. You ask me, she ain't that good, though. Then again," he went on, "been a while. Might be I just forgot." He looked at Tansy. "We can fix that in a jiffy, can't we sugar?"

Frank clenched his fists, torn between wanting the truth and needing the horrific diatribe to end. He turned to Tansy, but she was already heading down the hallway toward the lounge, Elio at her side.

"That's right, Frankie Boy. Go on, think about it."

"Frank," Leila said. When he kept staring down the hall, she snapped her fingers. "Hey!"

Frank glared at her. "What?"

Leila looked wide-eyed at Frank while she pointed at Chigger and said, "No."

Sirens that had been growing louder filled the room as trucks rounded the corner just outside. The four of them backed away from the door in silence.

"Get the fuck down here," Ray hissed. Cyrus was the first down the stairs, followed by Chigger, and finally Frank, who trailed Leila.

At the bottom of the stairs, Leila gasped. Down in the lounge, the Ten were preparing for war.