by Lana Kole
What a crock of shit.
If Maya had a different past, one that hadn’t completely fucked her up in the head, she may have rejoiced at inheriting such an important role in life. Instead, her instincts drove her to rebel at the thought of her destiny snatched from her own hands.
Still, she couldn’t deny something about their story struck a nerve in her. It was like each one of them had plucked a taut thread in her loom, leaving the string quivering with an annoying vibration that she couldn’t get out of her head. Speaking of… she turned her head to eye the tapestry hanging on the wall above their table. For some reason, the scene in the fabric had been catching her eye since they’d begun their tale. Maya finished it a few months ago, after spending almost an entire year weaving the giant depiction of dawn, midday, and dusk. The colors faded and flowed into each other smoothly—the pinks and oranges mixing into yellows and reds before transitioning into the muted purples and blues of the evening.
At the time, she’d simply thought the bar needed a splash of color. But now…
No. Do not read or buy into this shit.
The flashes of light and their transformations exploded through her memory, reminding her of the proof supporting their seemingly impossible story.
This is insane.
“You know what? I need to sleep on this. Yep. A good sleep is what I need, to process everything.” She wiggled her way out of the booth, shoving August out of the way so she could stand. Motioning to the pile of baddies, she waved the sight away.” And would you care to get rid of them? I’d appreciate it.”
As if someone had heard her thoughts, the flesh and blood bodies of the intruders suddenly disappeared, a cloud of sand exploding as they vanished into thin air.
Sand scattering on the wooden floor sounded deafening in the silence that followed, and all Maya could do was gape.
It was official, her brain had exceeded its capacity for impossible shit. She shook her head before backing toward the stairs. “Nuh uh, nope. I don’t know what the fuck that was, but I’m done for tonight. When you’re ready to sound less crazy, wake me with food.”
Maya turned, intending to return to her bed, but heard their footsteps following behind her. Jerking back around, she pointed a finger at them. “No. I am sleeping alone. You guys stay down here and take care of… this!” She waved her hands around as if to encompass the mess her life had become in the few short hours she’d spent with them. Remembering one more thing, she called over her shoulder, “And will one of you troublemakers please patch up the back door? I doubt you’ll be chasing the mice away anytime soon.”
She snickered at her own joke, hiccupping as she steadied herself against the wall and took the stairs to her apartment. Dammit. My cats are gone. Not having a cute little furry body to keep me warm tonight is gonna suck.
Ignoring her own thoughts, she slammed the door shut and slid the deadbolts home. Although, if they could magically turn into animals, what else could they do? Probably things a simple deadbolt had no hope against.
Maya shook her head as she fled to her room, lost in her thoughts as the crinkle of the aluminum breaking was the only sound in the room as she took her nightly birth control. Stripping and falling into bed, exhaustion overtook her, and her eyelids slammed shut. Right before she fell asleep, her mind turned to Malak, hearing his favorite lesson in a new light.
She fell asleep in seconds, with thoughts of the past far from her mind. Or so she thought. Her subconscious had other ideas.
Grief called to her like a monster taunting her with its claws hitched deep into her heart. Maya grunted, knocking her black boot into the metal back door as the deadbolt stuck and got hung on the box in the doorframe.
Using both hands, she twisted and jerked at the key, back and forth, trying to get the lock to disengage.
“I’ve always hated this stupid, fucking lock!” The frustrated words burst from her lips in equal parts aggravation and sorrow. Maya kicked her boot into the door with a groan sticking in her throat, before resting her forehead against the cold metal.
She needed something to take her anger out on, because god forbid she actually face her problems and own up to her own guilt.
Uncle Malak’s favorite phrase flashed through her head like a billboard sign, accompanied by a vision of his tanned, stern face, with a look of disapproval stamped on his features. Maya had earned that look quite often.
Now was the only time she feared she deserved it.
“Never give up, girl.”
Most would assume that ‘girl’ was an unaffectionate name for someone’s niece. Maya, on the other hand, cherished the nickname that had stuck ever since she’d been little. She hadn’t been related by blood to Uncle Malak, but it was all the same. Maya loved him like a dad, and he’d been as good as any.
It hurt in a brutal way that she’d never hear that little nickname again.
Channeling her grief into anger—at herself, the world, the god or gods who would dare take him from her—she tried one last time to unlatch the deadbolt.
It unlocked with a soft snick, as if all the strength she’d used had been unnecessary and it was just waiting for her to hold her tongue just right.
But now she actually had to push the door open, and that was another challenge she didn’t know if she had the strength for.
Calling up another memory of Uncle Malak during one of their many training sessions, she pushed forward.
“Never give up. You’ll only lose if you lay down and let them win.”
The door clanged shut behind her, taking the slice of morning sunlight with it, leaving her in the darkness.
That was fine with Maya. She’d already been there a while.
Ignoring the tremble in her hands, she hung her keys on the familiar hook immediately to her left in the small foyer. Ahead, she could see the wall of the kitchen and the beginning of a hallway that would lead to the main bar area to the right. On her left, the door to the office called to her. The silence in the building seemed loud, if such a thing was possible.
The keys settled against the wall, listing back and forth on the key ring, almost mocking her.
You did this.
Her bottom lip trembled as she sucked in a sharp breath before stepping forward. Her steps on the hardwood floor echoed around the foyer, and all her resolve broke as she saw the office.
It looked untouched, as if Uncle Malak was still there, in the bar somewhere, and would come around the corner at any second to wrap her in a bear hug and swing her around like the little girl he loved. Ready to forgive her, let the past rest, and welcome her with open arms.
Instead, her gasping, sorrowful breaths sounded thunderous in the room as she studied the messy papers, the pens, even a mug of coffee still sitting on the corner.
It no longer steamed, though, long forgotten and left alone.
Kind of like Maya.
The tiniest meow pulled her attention back around, and she turned to find three black cats sitting in the doorway, as if they’d been waiting for her to notice them.
“Oh my god, you’re still here!”
Her exclamation was met with happy mews as she dropped to the ground and sat crisscross, patting her thighs for them to join her, desperation leaking into her tone as she cooed at them.
There was no hesitation as they came to her, rubbing their furry little bodies along her arms as she reached out to pet all of them. Her tears flowed freely seeing the cats again. She’d grown up with them, ever since they appeared one day after her parents died. At the time, she’d clung to them, desperate for comfort as she mourned her parents.
Maya did the exact same thing now, stroking their soft fur and cooing at them as they fought for space in her lap. Giggling when they smacked at each other or shoved one out of the way, she realized something.
“I missed you guys.” Her voice broke as one of them, Tubbi, turned to stare at her. “I’m so sorry I left. I won’t do it again. I promise.” She hugged his chunky little body to her and cried
, for her mistakes, her sorrows, her apologies… everything.
A memory flashed through her mind, a day she had trained with Malak. At the time, she had been young, and so confused as to why she had to learn to fight, staring at the stick in her hands with disdain. Malak had stood across from her, showing her the proper way to hold the weapon and telling her how to stand.
“Your parents told me to prepare you, so that’s what I’m doing. It won’t always be easy, but when we’re done, you’ll be ready for anything. That’s rule number one. Always be ready for anything.” Uncle Malak’s voice rang through her head like a warning as she stared around the vacant, silent bar, tears tracing her cheeks as she cuddled the cats.
“I don’t think I’m ready for this, Uncle Malak.”
Chapter Three
Amir watched Maya’s ass sway as she charged upstairs. When the apartment door slammed, August winced from across the table.
“Do you think we were too hard on her?” Asher asked, pausing the napkin doodle he was enthralled by. Though, from the looks of it, his scratch art looked like something to hang in a museum. He was sketching a likeness of Maya.
Shaking his head before Asher could even finish the question, Amir answered, “No. We saved her ass, she brought us out of that damned cat form, finally, and she just had too much to drink. She’ll be fine in the morning.”
I should know. I’ve taken care of your drunk ass more times than I can count.
Shaking the negative thoughts of his brother from his head, he focused on the problem at hand. Maya had to accept her bloodline, otherwise Amir didn’t know what he would do. They needed her for what was coming. No, he didn’t know exactly what the impending threat was, but he needed to be ready for all possibilities, and that included readying Maya as well.
Amir was a bit of a stickler for control, and he couldn’t exactly alter that part of his personality. Not after thirty-nine years. Staring at his two brothers across from him, he studied their faces that had once been as familiar as his own. It pained him to admit, but after fifteen years stuck in cat form, he’d almost begun to forget what they looked like.
August had grown up from the nerdy little high school kid he vaguely remembered to a handsome young man, with long brown hair that framed his face well. Asher still looked the part of a heartthrob, but Amir was glad to know his man whore days were behind them. In theory.
It was nice to finally walk on two legs again. To hold a glass of beer in his hand. To be on the same level as Maya,
Now, it seemed, they all had something to protect, cherish, and look forward to.
Hopefully, they wouldn’t fuck it up.
“It’s nice to be back, guys,” Amir declared, taking a sip from his beer to hide the emotions he knew played across his face.
“I know, brother. Finally,” Asher added, and Amir recognized what he thought sounded like resentment in his tone, but he decided to ignore it for now. They’d spent fifteen years analyzing and talking shit out. Amir was ready for a break from it all.
Fuck, he needed a vacation, but instead, Asher and August looked at him from across the table.
“I’m not gonna be able to sleep tonight. Now what?” August inquired.
It was an innocent and warranted question. But even so, it raised the hackles on Amir’s neck. They always expected him to step up—to take care of things himself. With a sigh, he got up from the table, and threw back the last of his beer, before heading toward the back with a grumble.
“Where are you going?” August asked.
“To fix the back door.”
Like I fix everything else.
Lips trailed across her collarbone, pulling a sigh from her own mouth at the gentle teasing. Maya reached down, sliding her hands through dark strands of hair. His kisses moved lower, making room for… another man to lean in and take her mouth?
I can get behind this. Two? Alright, alright, alright…
His kisses came rougher than the first male’s, and he claimed her mouth with reckless abandon. Their tongues clashed, passion heating between them as she gasped into the kiss.
The first man worked his way down to her breasts, placing teasing nips along her skin until he sucked a hard nipple into his mouth. Maya pulled back, needing to put names to the men apparently eager to pleasure her.
A frown tilted her lips down as she discovered it was none other than Asher and August. Before she could protest, August moved lower, his amber eyes burning into hers as he worked sin into her flesh one kiss at a time, down her torso until he landed between her thighs.
Tossing her head back when he finally licked a long swipe up her lips, she caught sight of Amir in the chair next to her bed. Asher trailed down to tease her nipples with his lips and practiced fingers. Suddenly, Maya didn’t care who was watching.
August was skilled, she would give him that. He soon worked her to the precipice of an orgasm, the wave building faster and faster as he teased a finger around her entrance before pressing inside. She clenched around him as a moan poured from her throat, her blonde hair slipping across the pillow as she tossed her head back.
Should she really be doing this? She’d just met them, after all, but at the moment, she couldn’t find the willpower to push them away.
“Oh, god…” Maya keened into the quiet of the bedroom, her plea announcing her pleasure to the men.
August suddenly wrapped his lips around her clit, sucking hard and bringing her closer to the edge, almost—
Maya startled awake, a pounding headache stamping her thoughts and the steamy dream to mush. Thighs still slick, and sweat dampening the valley between her breasts, she groaned. This time, the sound pulled from her throat stemmed from pain instead of pleasure as she rolled over to see the clock. How much did I drink last night? Muffin trilled a purr at her from where he perched on her nightstand, head cocked as if to ask why she was so grumbly.
“My head hurts. Cut me some slack.”
A smell invaded her senses, and it was not a pleasant one.
I didn’t wash the bar stench off myself before falling into bed last night. Great.
First on her to-do list today—shower. Flinging the covers off, she rolled, forcing herself into a seated position, before groaning as she placed all her weight on her feet. Maya was sore as hell, but she’d be damned if she could remember why in the hungover haze of foggy thoughts. Crossing to the bathroom, she kept her steps light and careful in an attempt to steady the pounding in her head. Muffin followed and hopped on the counter as she stood in front of the mirror and finally got a good look at herself. Bloodshot eyes, scarecrow hair, smeared makeup, and an angry mark on her chin greeted her.
“Ew. Shower. Yes.”
The water sprung to life with a twist of the knob, and she shucked her shirt and undies off before stepping under the hot spray. Soaping up with her favorite lily-scented shampoo, she sighed in contentment. As if the fogginess was slipping down the drain alongside the suds and hot water, her brain seemed to turnover to life when a soft, questioning meow reached her ears.
The sound broke the dam in her mind holding back the precious night’s events, and they came flooding back all at once. The break-in, fighting, shape-shifting cats, everything. Maya grabbed the curtain and pulled a small section back to peek her head out at Muffin—Asher.
“You little fucking asshole! Get out of my bathroom, right now!” Her voice came out low and dangerous at the thought of the pervy little fucker getting an eyeful. Her cheeks heated with the memory of just how many times she’d changed and showered in front of the little buggers.
And masturbated.
Oh, holy fuck.
With a trill, the black cat left the bathroom while she cursed his existence all the way out the door.
Maya took her time with the rest of the shower. Organizing her thoughts, she reflected on the information she had learned last night and resisted the smell of bacon trickling up from the bar.
Shape-shifting fucking cats. Maya faced the spray,
shaking her head at the insane happenings of the night before.
Pushing the thoughts from her mind, she tugged back the shower curtain after turning off the water. She hurried to cover herself with the nearest towel before the chill could set in, then wrapped it tightly around her before she returned to her room for clothes.
Normally, she’d walk around naked, but no more, all because of those damned cats again.
All the free shows those little bastards have been getting…
Gritting her teeth, she rushed to get dressed before returning the towel to the bathroom and squeezing her hair tight over the sink, wringing out the excess water. With another deep breath, she faced the mirror, slightly annoyed that she still looked the same. Golden eyes stared back at her, framed by a head of straight blonde hair, the shadowed roots showing her heritage, soaked and stringy from the shower. She’d have to use a conditioning treatment soon, her ends were looking rough, she thought to herself idly during her examination.
The smell of breakfast tickled her nose again, and with some reluctance, she rushed through the rest of her routine, hurrying out of her room to face the three men downstairs. Maya paused in the living room, though, in front of the machine that held her favorite hobby, weaving. It was an odd hobby for someone her age, at least according to the few people she’d shared her passion with, but she’d grown attached to the flowing thread pieces and felt closer to her mom when she sat before it all. From what Maya could remember, her mom had loved to weave. Maya recalled the many intricate patterns, images, and beautiful scenes she would create from strands of thread.
There was much more to Maya’s hobby than just simple weaving though. And she suspected it had something to do with this familial blessing the guys had talked about.
With questions burning, she turned to join the men downstairs, ready for answers.
Walking into her kitchen was an experience. Maya hadn’t woken up to breakfast made by another person since her uncle had died two years ago and left the bar in her possession. She took a seat at the bar stool in front of the island, where Asher was setting plates and cutlery out for them.