The Cat Sees The Truth

Once I prove to my worrywart family that I'm nourished and showered, they give my phone back. Taurus' messages seem urgent and agitated. Using the return app, I pop into his room without preface.

He's been decorating again. Wallpaper, siding, hardwood floors, a doorway, and two recessed sliding panels that must lead somewhere are his newest additions. What is he building here? A bathroom wouldn't be terrible. I wonder if I can ask him.

Before I finish that thought, he appears in the doorway looking as nervous as a sinner in church. I'm witnessing yet another emotion I've never seen on the enigmatic clone. This must be a record.

"Um, Sandwich?"

Arching my brow suspiciously, I look at him as he haunts the doorframe. "You called me, buddy. What's up?"

He saunters over, obviously trying to swagger like normal. Unfortunately, paired with his unsure expression, it doesn't hit the right note. He just looks awkward. "I got you something."

Huh?

"You did? What's that?" I tilt my head curiously, eying the hand behind his back. For all I know, it could be a human head; in fact, that's not even out of the realm of possibility. I'm having a movie moment and I'm a little scared to ask what's in the box.

"Here." He thrusts a box that"s slightly bigger than a shoebox at me. It could still be a head. Taurus probably has unconventional ideas for presents, I'll bet.

What on god's green earth could be in this box?

He's pacing like a jonesing meth head. I lift the lid gingerly, hoping the scent will tell me what manner of horror he's brought.

"Maybe a little melted. You said the other day—and I'll have you know that I'm not courting you, so don't get any ideas because I doubt you'd appreciate it if I did, what with the stompy and the prickly. But I thought you might like this, so I tortured the guy at the factory. Don't get any ideas, it's not that I like you or anything…"

My lips curve as I enjoy his stream of consciousness babbling. He's so anti-Taurus right now that it's amusing and endearing. Not a single soul we know would believe this story if I told them.

"It doesn't really matter what I thought, does it? It's done. You can't really untorture a bloke once the job's done, can you? See, I had to because they're not normal. Had to get them to pull out seasonal shit. They're... heart-shaped milk duds."

Holy hell.

I blink in surprise, picking one up to examine it. Each one is a perfect heart shape, clearly handcrafted. I made one off-hand comment about how I'm softer on the inside with a shell on the outside. This took an enormous amount of effort, and it might be the nicest thing anyone's done for me—maybe ever.

Shuffling his feet, he mutters, "I got word on my way home that they were ready, so I swung by. Not that far out of my way–well, Pennsylvania's not exactly around the block, but still. I'm not saying we're dating or anything, so don't get any ideas. But if you want a cuddle now and again, I probably wouldn't mind. Now I'm going to go before my balls disappear and my spine falls right out of my body. To sum up: no ideas. I just felt like torturing a bloke. Candies are a perk. I think I'll be going now."

Flabbergasted by his rant, I sit silently when it hits me. Taurus might like me. As in, like me, like me. There's no hope for anything long term because he's Talia's, but maybe I'm not the only one struggling.

Holy hell in a handbasket. What the fuck do I do now?

I lick my lips, sitting the box aside carefully as I try to work this out in my mind. I'm terrified of damaging a gift that's so oddly precious. I'm also freaking the fuck out about screwing up our precarious balance by telling him how it made me feel.

Before I know it, I pounce over the table and knock him to the ground. I wrap my arms around him tightly and place a light kiss on his jaw. Lifting my head, I hide my squishy emotions by giving him a playful smirk. "You're still an ass." I dip my head, lips brushing it as I murmur into his ear. "Luckily for you, I kind of like that."

His face gets hot and he grumbles. "They're a sweet. No need to get all mushy." Despite his words, he squeezes me tightly to his chest, and I smile against his neck.

"Yeah, well, I'm not." I raise my head, giving him a saucy grin. "I'm saying you've got a nice ass."

He gives me a huffy look that doesn't quite hide his relief that I liked his present. "I know that."

I reach down and cop a feel playfully. "Just making sure you know how much I appreciate it."

Returning the favor, he chuckles. "Yours isn't so bad, either, gorgeous. Unfortunately, I really have to go back to work."

"Maybe I'll see you later. I'll probably be all hyped up on chocolate and stuff."

That's a lie, as I would no more eat these than set myself on fire. They're going to cold storage. It's stupid to think I can keep a food gift for a long period, but I'll be damned if I won't try. His gift means something, and I don't know when I'll be able to part with it.

Grinning, he kisses my nose. "Maybe I'll see if I can get you to go for a ride."

"Maybe I will. You gotta ask nicely."

Sitting me aside so he can stand, he rolls to his feet. He turns to head out, but before he goes, he looks over his shoulder. "Considering that I meant a ride on ME, I think I can nail down something not-nasty."

I snort. As if I didn't know that.

Does it seem like I take a lot of showers?

I'm developing a complex. I'm always scrubbing someone's scent off to keep up appearances. I have to juggle these predator noses and despite not being exclusive with anyone, I still have to keep the peace by hiding who I've been with. It's a bunch of bullshit and I'm tiring of it.

It's Thursday, so we had to have our weekly dinner with the Pack family. They went home for once—which means they were double booked. I'm washing away the evidence that Rafe didn't take one for the team tonight. He tried valiantly to do so, but Sari pulled him away to work out her anger at Rhea. He hasn't come up to our room yet, so I'm not sure if he's decided that he needs to decompress. Neither of our erstwhile mates was in a kind mood this evening, so I doubt he's in better shape.

Taking the brunt of their anger at others is wearing thin.

Looking around the steamy bathroom, I make certain that I'm alone. It would feel good to drop the glamours and blockades for a few minutes. I could rest my weary magick, look at the damage Wilde's demon did, and maybe not feel like I'm going to keel over any second.

Taurus figured out that I—much like the clones—restore some of my energy through feeding. Because of the demands of the families and Taurus, I haven't let my glamours drop in weeks. Holding those firm and blocking everything from the family bonds might have killed me if not for hunting.

Feeding doesn't rejuvenate my magick, though. That's what my rituals are for. I haven't had time to restore my life energy at my sacred space and this much magick is draining as hell. My healing is slower, my energy is fading, and I feel like something wiped off a shoe.

It's a good thing that Taurus has been on this protracted mission for a few days. The other mates haven't been around because of the fight to notice. If he were here, Taurus would know right away. My glamours aren't tangible and he'd feel the things his eyes couldn't see. I'm going to work on that shit.

I sigh wistfully. It would feel so good to simply exist for a few minutes.

It can't hurt, right?

I go through the checklist to make sure I'm safe to do this. Look inside—verify no one has a live connection to our bond—check. Look around the bathroom again to make sure no one is lurking in the steam—check. Feel for my primary to see if he's drawing on me for healing—check.

Okay, I think I'm ready.

I exhale and let the spells fade, preparing myself for the onslaught of the blocked physical pain to hit me. I wince as bruises, marks, and bites appear, making me look like a mottled piece of fruit. Tears well in my eyes because letting go of the magick means my sorrow gets released from its confines as well. Our fun, rowdy and pleasurable sex life has become spiteful, painful, and damaging. I look like a hungry animal attacked me and I assume Rafe looks similar.

This can't go on.

When I mated with Wilde, he didn't want to bite me to complete the mating. He hated the very idea of his demon. This change, these powers they have… it's given their darkest sides a free pass to seek vengeance on anyone they feel slights them. Between the demon and the coyote, Rafe and I are basically punching bags for their wrath.

I step out of the steam and approach the mirror, wiping it to look at my beaten body. I don't believe the ‘inner demon' gambit Wilde is playing. I think it's an affect he's developed to allow him to behave in horrid ways while blaming something he can't control. I think jealousy and fear have motivated the once gentle Wilde to find an outlet for the repressed anger he's been holding. He's as responsible for everything that the bastard does, just like Sari is responsible for not controlling the coyote she developed.

They could learn to harness the anger, but they choose not to because it's a weapon. All the anger, fear, rage, jealousy, and ugliness are part of who they are. Now, they can pretend that their ‘inner monster' escapes and they can't control it. Unfortunately, the escapes are happening more frequently, and they only seem to happen to Rafe and me.

Ever since the Winter Incident, it's been exponentially worse. I could strangle all our families for what they did to resolve that problem. It fixed nothing—it set a precedent for the abuse to come. The bulk of that plan was Sari's idea, and my guys went along despite misgivings.

That night, our terrible secret began when she capitulated to his demon to end the emotional suffering. It convinced his demon that she was his mate. I let it happen and so did she, so we share the blame. We're tied to those idiots with velvet ropes and we're so fucking tired of fighting.

What happened then is nothing compared to the punishments since.

The need for vengeance spread to Rafe, and I think he gets it worse than me. I see the haunted look in his eyes after he's been with either of them, particularly Wilde. The first time we recognized that look in each other's eyes, we knew. I've been carrying our pain and shame ever since.

Rubbing my hand over my face, I look at my reflection again. Battered, bruised, bitten, and beet red from the heat of the water, I'm wrecked. For someone who can knit wounds, you would never know it from this reflection. I don't have the strength to hold the shields, the glamours, heal, and hide it all until I hunt and recharge.

All of this should be enough to knock me on my ass. Add in the emotional weight from the betrayal of our other mates and it's a perfect storm.

Rhea's been moping for weeks, but now all she does is lie, wring her hands or apologize like she's joined a twelve-step program. Alistair isn't around much, and I used to lean on him. I considered a door lock on Monday so that Rhea can't just show up to whine. Even Rafe has reached the nexus of his ability to listen to her ‘woe is me' diatribes.

Her betrayal—regardless of whom it involved—has destroyed the possibility of keeping our family together. I don't know how to forgive her. Neither she nor Alistair are physically harming me, but the emotional drain is crippling. After lunch Monday, I weighed the impact of cutting them out of our lives. Rafe isn't hurting yet, but once he finds out what she's said, he'll be destroyed.

Sighing again, I close my eyes.

The only way to cut them off fully is to unmate. I don't know how to do that.

Mating is an ancient tradition learned from clones taken from other ribbons. They instinctually have a drive to find their mate and mate with them, but I don't know if it's actually possible to undo. If it is, it's probably written in some book locked away at the Company. The whispers say that people go crazy after they lose a mate—even if they die. Other rumors speak of feeling like a piece of you is missing for the rest of your life. The released clones won't even talk about it—it's the boogeyman of their training, I think.

Taurus might know.

If I ask, I'll look faithless and na?ve. Mating is supposed to be forever, and I thought it would be. When Rafe and I mated with the others, we sincerely believed that it was forever. Everyone was so in love. It wasn't always perfect, but it was beautiful. I'm trying, Goddess knows, and so is Rafe, but they have beaten us into submission.

What do you do when you can't imagine forever anymore?

I look in the mirror again and murmur to myself, "I don't know."

This is why some couples don't share blood with anyone. It can cause problems and pain beyond comparison.

I wipe the tears off of my cheeks, taking a deep breath. This isn't like me. I'm not so black and white. Rafe and I can get through this. If I feed and spend some time in the circle, I'll get reinforcement from the Universe. Then I can reset myself, heal this mess, and I won't need glamours.

A furry head bumps my hand, and I gasp, clutching my chest in fear. Once I see that it's Aradia, I unclench. Shit. "You scared me, my love."

Her big blue eyes look at me, and I can almost hear her chastising me. I wrinkle my nose, knowing she's right. The damage has been pressing on me too long, and it strains my magick to hold down so many things at once. A small recharge ceremony will do for now, but something bigger will be necessary to shore up my powers for the long term.

My magick has grown while in the Rift, but I haven't allowed it to be free. I didn't want people to know because it would be one more thing to make me a shiny toy. Being my familiar, Aradia is reminding me I need to allow my magick to connect with nature and develop fully if I want to harness this much at once.

The only way to come to full strength is a seasonal ritual with a coven. We have to draw down the moon and let the Universe flow through me so I can accept my full potential as a witch. It's a little scary. I've never wanted magick to be a major part of my life, but my circumstances demand it.

Biting my lip, I consider when I can schedule this based on the lunar calendar. It's the end of March. I have the entire month of April to plan a Beltane ritual. It's the ritual of re-birth—which is fitting—and that calls for drawing down the Goddess.

That could work.

The only drawback is that I will need four coven members to anchor the power that a Beltane ritual will release. I don't know what will happen with my Beast, so I can't visit covens I know on the other side. There are no other true pagans in the Rift, so that means I can't be choosy. I will have to ask Sari and Lily, but I don't know who else we'll recruit.

For now, I have to get dressed and feed. After that, I can plan. I have much to do to get ready before the first of May. With the busy pace of my life of late, I can't afford to dawdle, or I'll never get it all done.

The Goddess will help me fix all of this.