by Layla Nash
"You can't leave." Edgar sounded regretful. He leaned back in the chair. "If only because there is a part of yourself that you've never acknowledged. It exists, Sophia, whether you admit it or not. You're a shifter, a leopard. You are not human."
My vision blurred as I stared at a series of scratches in the wooden desk. I choked on a crumb of granola stuck in my throat and finished off the water, not trusting myself to speak.
He took a deep breath. "Surely you felt you were different, Sophia? Surely this can't be such a surprise?"
The mantra repeated in my head, over and over, as I struggled for calm. For composure. Admitting that he was right took more courage than I had at my fingertips. "I was always different. Seizures, birthmarks." I raised my arm so he could see the blotches on my skin. "So I never fit in. Doesn't really matter the reason, does it?"
"It should." Edgar fiddled a coin across the backs of his fingers, the flashing silver distracting me as he put his feet up on the desk. "Because this particular difference means you're no longer alone. Ever."
I looked up, not daring to hope. "I don't understand."
"Sophia, there are many different types of shifters. The wolves stick together the closest, because they tend to follow pack rules all together, but the felines also stick together. Most of us live in prides or at least loose social circles. Leopards tend to be solitary animals but you can join our pride, Sophia. You are most welcome."
The tears collected in a knot in my throat, but the mantra kept my face dry. The memory of the tears I'd shed against Atticus's chest made my cheeks flush and my heart trip. I cleared my throat. "You don't even know me."
"True enough." He nodded, the coin flying across his fingers. "But I know one very important thing about you. Well, perhaps two."
I waited. He smiled with only half his mouth as he glanced at me. "That night when you fought Atticus, Logan and I were as close to an uncontrolled shift as I can remember. Most shifters would have peed themselves in the corner rather than interrupt a lion alpha and his second. You, however." The smile twitched, spread a little, and he waved the coin at me. "You skipped past us, told Atticus he had to pay us because you wouldn't, and then you winked at me on your way out. Without breaking a sweat."
The mantra faltered. It took me a moment to regain my equilibrium, but when I felt centered, I looked at him closely. "So?"
"You're ballsy enough to live with lions," he said. "Very few people are. Very few women are."
I shook my head and concentrated on pulling my hair back in a neater ponytail. "Fake it 'til you make it, Edgar."
Another smile. There was too much kindness in his eyes for someone who headed security. I expected cruelty; I braced for withering condemnation. Instead, he reminded me of a former shifu, one of my first kung fu masters. Like a walking Taoist meditation.
Before my heart warmed and my defenses utterly fell apart, I sat up in the chair and rearranged my blanket toga. "And the second thing you know about me, Eddie?"
"Don't poke the bear," he said, eyebrow raised. "Or the lion, young lady. My name is Edgar. And the second thing I know about you is less clear-cut." He nodded at the cage behind me. "The only reason I'm in here this early is because Atticus never sleeps more than about three or four hours at a time. I figured he'd be up already, with a plan and a schedule and a couple of workouts already behind him."
I glanced back, and my heart calmed when I saw Atticus's still-dozing form. A beam of sunlight illuminated the rippled muscles across his shoulders and back. Curling up next to him once more occurred to me as the best idea I would have all day. I forced myself to look back at Edgar and froze; he watched me, not his brother. I cleared my throat. "He didn't leave. I think he's been snoring all night."
Edgar nodded, dark eyes unfathomable. "I know. I double-checked the security cameras. He's been asleep at least ten hours, Sophia. The only thing different about this night is you."
The breath caught in my throat. "I don't understand. I didn't fuck him."
A slight grimace was the only indication he didn't like salty language. Edgar went back to flipping the coin. "That wasn't my point. The point is, Sophia, he's calmer when you're near. That's a good thing. He's my baby brother and I love him. I like that he slept all night, that he's still sleeping. It's good for him."
"Great." I gathered up the toga and debated whether they'd ever let me go to the bathroom by myself again. "If you don't mind —"
"One more thing." His expression hardened and his words gained an edge. "Because he is my brother and I love him, Sophia, I take threats to his wellbeing very seriously. Do not hurt him. Don't even try."
"I wouldn't hurt him."
"See that you don't." Edgar took a breath as he stood, attention on something else. "Now —"
"Sophia?" Atticus sat up in a violent flurry of blankets and pillows and limbs, almost banging his head on the bars, and wrenched the door open as he burst into the open part of the library. "Sophia, where — Oh. Edgar."
His expression closed as he looked at his brother, then me in my sad little blanket toga. Atticus scrubbed his face and the raspy stubble on his jaw, fighting back a yawn. "What the hell time is it, Edgar?"
The older man nodded to me as he passed, slapping Atticus's back before heading for the door. "Ten in the morning, brother. You're turning into a regular housecat, sleeping the day away. Feed the girl and find her some clothes, then get to work. Pete and the guys are available if you need someone with a dart gun nearby."
Atticus waved him away. "We won't need it." Then he looked at me, his eyes still bleary with sleep. "Did you get some rest? Are you hurt anywhere?"
"I'm fine." I cleared my throat as I eased to my feet. "But I'd really like to take a shower and brush my teeth and get some real clothes."
He yawned again. "Sure. I'll see if Eloise can help you out." He shuffled to the phone on the desk and made a call, talking in a low voice, as I looked at the door ajar behind him.
Edgar's words remained at the front of my thoughts as a dark-haired woman with strange gray eyes led me to a nearby suite with bedroom and bathroom. The shower steam hid my reflection in the mirror but not my fears. A leopard. Lions. And Atticus, who could only sleep when I lay nearby.
Nine
I dashed sweat out of my eyes and squared off with Atticus yet again. We'd spent days sparring and working out until I hovered on the verge of collapse, and then he would try to make me shift. Sometimes it worked and I woke up thirty or forty minutes later, naked and back in the cage or one of the other safe rooms they'd identified throughout the mansion. Sometimes it didn't work, and instead we stared at each other until someone made a face and we had to start over.
He fought well, if inelegantly, but relied more on superior strength and reach than on finesse and technique. Which meant the decade I'd spent studying and drilling in kung fu gave me an advantage at least half the time. I dodged a kick and slipped under his guard to punch him in the solar plexus, then moved out of reach before he could react. Atticus grunted and rubbed his chest. "Good."
I bit back a smile; he always said that when I managed to really hurt him. The first time I swept his feet out from under him, he'd stared up at me as if I'd flown a circle around the gym, then he laughed and said, "Fucking awesome."
He still didn't like hitting me. He still pulled his punches, and though I'd started to use all the strength I possessed, he remained gentle with me. Treated me like fine china, even as he flipped me over his shoulder and slammed me — gently — into the floor mats.
Atticus shook the hair out of his eyes and sweat spattered the mat next to me. I wrinkled my nose but accepted the sweaty hand up. "That wasn't fair."
"You being faster than a fucking hummingbird isn't fair," he said under his breath. "I use the tools at my disposal, darlin'."
I shook my head and went to retrieve a water bottle. "You would be much more efficient if you studied something. Jiu Jitsu or kung fu or tae kwon do or something. A system would help you."
"I do okay." His expression closed off.
"Sure." I handed him a bottle and then perched on a bench near the wall. They had an amazing gym in the mansion — an enormous hall with weight machines and treadmills at one end, and a padded sparring area with heavy bags and torsos for punching, a moveable boxing ring, and crates of targets and gloves. The first day in the gym, I asked if they had a wooden dummy for training punching and blocking. The rhythm and pattern of blocking against the wooden form was more useful than meditation, and I ached for the peace it brought. They didn't have one, but the morning of the second day, I walked in to find three different types of dummies standing near the boxing ring, along with racks of practice weapons.
When I thanked him, Atticus got all bashful and waved it away. "Whatever helps."
So I was looking at the wooden dummy as I drained my water. "You'd do better with some training, though."
He grunted. "Maybe."
I bounced to my feet and dragged the dummy over as Atticus collapsed on the bench where I'd sat. He watched warily as I took a ready stance and began to run through a form against the dummy, blocking against the wooden arms and body with a steady thock-thock-thock. When I felt centered, connected to the world and ch'i from my toes through my head to the universe beyond, I closed my eyes and breathed out every stress and anxiety that clamored for attention. And still I kept up the pattern against the wooden arms.
Reality shifted and everything fell into place. I exhaled and sped up. "You know, monks practice physical activity as a form of meditation."
"Is that so." His voice reached me from very far away.
"That's how kung fu started." I pushed away uncertainty and thoughts of escape, and tried to live in the immediate moment. That was the only moment we had. "Meditation. It was only when warlords attacked the temples that the monks fought to defend their sanctuaries."
I stopped, straightened, and stepped back from the dummy. I looked at him, struck by the flashes of gold in his dark eyes, and gestured for him to get up. "Your turn."
"I can't do that." He laughed, wiping his face with a towel.
"Of course you can't." I rearranged some of the arms, simplified it for him. "But everyone starts somewhere, right?"
He opened his mouth to argue and I gave him a pointed look, eyebrows raised. He'd said the same thing to me when I complained that shifting was too hard. I had no control over it, remembered nothing during it. And he'd just said that everyone began somewhere. Atticus held his hands up in surrender and lurched to his feet. "Okay, okay. Show me what to do, shifu."
I blinked, mouth open to ask, and he made an elaborate bow. "When you mentioned kung fu, I did some reading. O mighty kung fu master."
Maintaining a stern expression took a year off my life as he looked up with that half-grin, and I put my hands on my hips. I wanted to knock him down and kiss that smile off his face. "You want to know the first lesson of kung fu?"
The smile spread and he bowed again. "Yes, lotus blossom."
I leaned close and tweaked his nose. "Never, ever tease your shifu."
And then I showed him why. He wasn't the only one who found control in physical exertion, and I'd perfected muscle-melting workouts over years at different martial arts schools. It wasn't long before he panted, "You must be part sadist."
"Thought you said I was a leopard?" I studied his side stance with a critical eye as his legs shook and sweat ran off his forehead. I jumped to stand on his thigh and he growled in irritation.
"You can be both," he gritted out through clenched teeth. "Sadistic leopard. Is that your kung fu name?"
I hummed under my breath as I stepped from one thigh to the other, just to test him a little more, then hopped down to face him. His gold eyes flashed at me and for a moment, I saw the lion, not the man. My head tilted and I took a step back out of instinct.
Atticus abruptly stood and walked away, waving at me over his shoulder. "Go take a break. Meet me back here in fifteen."
"What's wrong?" I refused to leave and followed after him.
"Nothing." Atticus wouldn't face me, shaking his head as he kept walking. "Don't worry about it. Just take a break."
I grabbed his arm and pulled him back. "Atticus, what the hell?"
His eyes blazed fiery gold when he faced me and the breath caught in my throat. The muscles in his face twitched and his nose looked larger, broader. His voice dropped an octave as he held me at arm's length. "I'm serious, Sophia. I need a second."
I watched the struggle play across his face and waited. I didn't move for what felt like eternity until his breathing calmed and his eyes were more brown than gold. Only after he took a deep breath and sighed, rubbing his face, did I dare speak. "So I'm not the only one with control issues."
"No. I mean, yes." He made an irritated sound and stalked over to the fridge to get more water. He drank half and dumped the rest over his head. "Most shifters are in total control of their animal side."
"Most," I repeated, following him. "But not all. Not you?"
"My lion is — headstrong." Atticus stared past me, searching for something. "He gets agitated. Only fighting keeps him quiet. Well, fighting and —" He cut off and turned away again. "Never mind."
"Fighting and what?" When he said nothing, I repeated myself louder. "Fighting and what else, Atticus?"
He held out a hand to keep me back. "Nothing. Just fighting."
"If it might help me, damn it, tell me!" My hands clenched into fists. "I can't fight everything all the time, Atticus. I can't just fight to keep this shit under control, and even fighting isn't working."
He faced me, his expression betraying nothing of what he thought. "Fighting and you."
"Me." My heart stuttered. The room started to spin around me and my feet stuck to the mats even though I wanted to back up. He took up all the space, all the air, around me. "You mean —"
Atticus took a deep breath and scrubbed at his hair again. "I didn't want to freak you out. My lion likes you. A lot. He feels calm when you're nearby, when we know that you're safe. The last few days have been the easiest days I've had in a year. Two years. At least."
My jaw went slack. The gentleness of his voice, the reverence with which he spoke of knowing I was safe — it didn't really register. I only heard one thing. "You really can't control your lion. You can't control your own shit, so how do you expect me to learn to control anything?"
"It's different." His expression grew guarded. "No one knows that —"
"That you're just as bad as me?" I shook my head and turned away. Just freaking wonderful. "That's great. So you can hide whatever the hell you want, and as long as no one guesses you're on the verge of falling apart, it's okay. But me — I get in trouble for something I didn't even know I was doing? Right. That's fair."
"Sophia. Stop. Listen."
Something in his tone drew me back. I hardened my heart but when I dared glance at him, he looked so defeated, so exhausted, that my heart sank. He looked how I felt. Maybe he understood more about what I went through than he let on. I waited.
Atticus remained out of reach, but his shoulders slumped and his eyes radiated fatigue. "It's gotten worse over the last couple of years. I don't know why, and I don't know how to stop it. I'm holding on because I have to. There isn't any other choice."
I opened my mouth to accuse him of hypocrisy, to point out the ridiculous unfairness of everything he demanded from me without ever revealing his own struggles, but the door at the far end of the gym banged open. His brother Edgar strode in, frowning. "You guys at a stopping point?"
He spoke to Atticus — he always spoke to Atticus, he'd never said more than a few words to me since our conversation in the library — but I didn't care. I turned on my heel and walked away. "Yeah. We're finished."
Atticus said, "I'll meet you in your room in an hour, Sophia," then went to speak to his brother.
I threw a towel against the wall and stormed to beat the shit out of that wooden dummy.
Atticus followed Edgar in silence, ignoring the side looks his older brother gave him, and concentrated on keeping the lion under control. As much as Sophia calmed him, her challenges and questions and that look on her face that telegraphed how betrayed she felt set his lion into chaos as well. He focused on keeping his breathing slow and even, despite that his heart raced and his skin prickled. He'd admitted his control issues to her and she finally saw the hypocrisy.
Edgar paused next to Logan's office, eyeing him. "You sure you're okay? Need a break?"
"I'm fine." God, he was tired of saying that. Atticus clapped his brother on the shoulder. "Just tired."
Edgar didn't believe him, but he opened the door and walked in. Logan and Benedict spoke in low tones near Logan's fancy desk, but they cut off when Atticus walked in. His heart sank and he braced for the worst. They'd noticed, finally. Noticed and decided to do something about him. Maybe put him in a cage forever or start dosing him with the drugs that prevented shifters from changing forms. Or maybe they'd just kill him.
Stress gathered in the lines around Logan's eyes as he pointed at the chairs in front of his desk. "Have a seat, little brother."
Atticus walked on stiff legs to take a chair, wary as Edgar lounged on the chaise near the door. Benedict sat next to him, though, holding a stack of official-looking papers. Logan sighed as he eased into his own seat and leaned back, pinching the bridge of his nose. "The Council met last night, Att, and again this morning. A couple of issues came up but the leopard was high on the list of things to address."
Issues. As if she were a business deal that needed ironing out. He braced his hands on his knees and concentrated on keeping himself aloof and unconcerned. "Oh? What's the verdict?"
The alpha took a deep breath and fixed him with a level gaze. "They gave her a week to get the shifting under control and demonstrate she can both trigger and recover from a shift on her own. Unaided and unprovoked."