Lionheart- Chapter 2

    Beth should have been disgusted by the color the water turned when she first stepped into the shower, but she was too tired, too sore, and too used to that sort of thing to be bothered.

    She sighed, willing the hot water to wash away the aches in her back, legs, and especially her right shoulder. She hadn't been surprised to find a sizable, angry-looking bruise there, where she'd landed on the side of the highway earlier. And it was obviously more than a little bump, too, evidenced by the sharp pains she suffered whenever she lifted her arm too high or grabbed onto something too tightly. She made a mental note to take it a bit easier on that arm until it healed; as if the pain wouldn't remind her.

    Under the hiss of the water she reflected on her race to get home before Lailah. It wasn't the first time she'd had to do such a thing, but it was the first time it was so close. What would she have said if Lailah had walked in when she was still unlocking the sliding glass door? How would she have explained herself? It wasn't as if she could tell her the truth.

    Beth yawned and got soap in her mouth. Irritated, she made a face and tried to rinse out the taste.

    Would Lailah even believe the truth? That Beth, her own sister, wasn't completely human? That their mother wasn't either? Or that Lailah herself was even less human than the two of them combined?

    There was only one part of her body that wasn't aching. That was only because it was the only part of her body that hadn't been pushed beyond its limit. It was also because it was so used to being cramped that it no longer bothered to complain.

    Beth stretched and swung her tail side-to-side.

    The only times she was able to let the thing move was when she was alone, such as when she was in the shower or when she was changing in the mornings and evenings. Otherwise, it was was hidden. No one could ever see it. At least not normal people.

    It was creamy white and normally fluffy, but when it was wet it flattened down until it looked like a little rat tail. Beth frowned over her left shoulder at it.

    It was the only part of her that gave away her non-human side. It was the only part of her body that obviously demonstrated her wolven blood. The other aspects, her sensitive hearing, her stamina, her keen eyesight and her strong sense of smell, were far less obvious.

     Only after Lailah had yelled at her three times for taking too long in the shower did she finally get out and dry off. Steam swirled in the humid air, and the mirrors were fogged to flat silver.

    Beth swiped a hand across the mirror over the bathroom sink and looked at herself.

    The dirt and grime were gone, there was a small cut under her eye from a thorny twig that had slapped her in the face, but what was much more obvious was the exhausted look in her eyes. They seemed sunken, with ugly bags beneath.

    How much longer could she live like that? How did any shifters live like that? They did of course, but Beth couldn't imagine how.

    She wasn't even a real shapeshifter, she reflected while she dried her hair. She was what many shifters casually called a 'dud'. What they meant was that she had shifter blood, but due to various mutations, she was unable to change forms, and instead appeared to be caught mid-shift. Fortunately, her tail was the only obvious display of what was wrong with her. Some shifters with her problem had far more obtrusive attributes, even appearing more animal than human in some cases.

    Beth dried her tail with her towel, and the fur puffed out comically. She sighed and tried to smooth it.

    Her fur didn't stop at her tail; it went about two inches up the center of her back, and stretched to her left another inch in a ragged patch. There was also some fur interspersed through her hair.

    While she was getting dressed again, a muscle in her back twinged when she attempted to hide her tail. It did that sometimes. It didn't ache constantly, but it still occasionally cramped. Beth paused, took a deep breath, and waited for the muscles to relax. Life would be so much easier -at least on a domestic level- when Lailah knew what the two of them were.

- - -

    Lailah sighed theatrically when Beth came downstairs, her short blonde hair wet and tousled like she hadn't even bothered to brush it. She was dressed like she'd just accomplished some great and stressful feat and now she was ready to relax, wearing an old gray sweatshirt that had once belonged to their mom, and a pair of old, paint-spattered jeans with holes in the knees.

    "Are you sick?" Lailah asked.

    "No." Beth said, confused.

    "Then why are you dressed like a hobo?"

    Beth gave her a predatory glare and headed into the living room. "You watching anything? No? Great, thanks." She said, turning on their Xbox 360 and grabbing a controller.

     Lailah frowned. "Actually I was kinda watching something-"

    "Well now you're kinda not."

    She hated when Beth got in those 'my-way-or-the-highway' moods. She didn't make it a habit to cater to her sister.

    "You can play your games after my show is over," Lailah said, switching off the Xbox.

    Beth's glare intensified from the beanbag chair she'd flopped into. "Turn it back on."

    "No."

    "Mom said I'm in charge. Turn it back on."

    "She didn't say that meant you can play video games when my show is on!"

    "She might as well have! Being 'in charge' means you can say what goes on in the place you're in charge of. I say it's time for video games." Beth's voice was lowered to a near growl.

    "Well then I'm staging a rebellion."

    "You can't stage a rebellion; you don't have the firepower."

    "I can round up some TIE fighters."

    "The rebellion didn't have TIE fighters; the Empire did. The rebellion had X-wings."

    "Wait...which ones are the TIE fighters?"

    Beth sighed. "The TIE fighters are the ones that sound like someone screaming when they go by the screen."

    "Right. And an X-wing is what Luke had when he landed on Dagobah and got sunk in the swamp, right?"

    "Right." Beth pressed a button on her controller and the Xbox turned on again.

    Lailah scowled and turned it off. "I said no!"

    "You're my little sister, remember? You're supposed to listen when I tell you to do stuff!"

    "No, I'm supposed to annoy you!"

    "Well mission accomplished, you little snot!"

    "You're the snot!"

    "No I'm not!"

    "Yes you are!"

    "Shut up!"

    "You shut up!"

    Beth grabbed a pillow that had fallen off the couch and tossed it at Lailah's head.

    Lailah caught it and charged over to her sister. With determination she knelt on the ground beside her.

    "Don't you-"

    Lailah swung the pillow with all her might into her sister's face.

    "Ow...that hurt!" Beth snarled, shoving her sister back.

    Lailah fell back, swinging her arms to balance herself and stop herself from falling on her back. "Don't push me!" She snapped when she'd regained her balance.

    "Don't hit me with pillows!" Beth snapped back.

    "You mean like this?"  Lailah grabbed the pillow and struck her sister again in the stomach this time.

    Beth grabbed the pillow before she had a chance to pull it back and hit her in the face with it.

    Lailah got to her feet and grabbed the matching pillow that had remained on the couch and ran back to strike at Beth again.

    Beth blocked her attack with her pillow.

    Lailah knelt on the bean bag chair, straddling Beth, and struck her several times on her head and upper body with the pillow.

    "Stop it!" Beth cried, shielding her face with her own pillow.

    Lailah continued her assault.

    "I said stop it!" Beth howled, sitting up and shoving her sister back with all her might.

    Lailah tried to stand with the momentum, but ended up stumbling backwards into the entertainment center holding the TV.

    On the entertainment center beside the TV was a vase of flowers, and when Lailah hit the wood, the vase swayed with the strike.

    Both girls let out inarticulate cries. The vase pitched forward, and then tumbled in slow-motion from the entertainment center to the laminate floor, where it struck with a piteous shriek of breaking glass.

    In all areas of the world, a certain trance falls over those who've done something wrong, right after the deed is done and while their brains are slowly processing what's going to happen next. It strikes anyone, no matter their age, so long as the deed is unexpected and sudden.

    Lailah was still leaning against the TV, staring dumbly at the broken glass and the rapidly expanding puddle of water.

    Beth was in her chair, one arm outstretched as if she could've caught the vase.

    "Now look what you did!" She snapped when the trance released her.

    Lailah blinked and turned to stare at Beth. "What? You're the one that pushed me!"

    "Whatever; just get some paper towels and be careful of the broken glass."

    Lailah made a wide circle around the water and hurried into the kitchen while Beth got to her feet.

    "If Mom asks, I'm blaming you." Lailah called once she was in the kitchen pulling the roll of paper towels from the holder.

    Clanking came from the living room. "Whatever." Beth said, sounding distracted.

    Lailah left the kitchen and found Beth picking up the vase pieces. It'd broken on just the side that had struck the ground.

    "What are you doing? Don't cut yourself!"

    Beth glanced up briefly. "Don't worry; it broke cleanly, just a chunk out of this side, see?" She carefully slid a triangle-shaped piece of glass into the empty space on the side of the vase, looking like a slice of pizza taken from the edge. When they were placed together, they fit so well that there was almost no visible seam.

    Lailah let out a breath. "Good. I hate cleaning up broken glass..." She dropped a few paper towels on the puddle while Beth picked leaves and flower petals off the ground.

    "What time is it?" Beth asked.

    Lailah glanced up at the clock. "Almost six."

    "When was Mom gonna be home?"

    "Seven, she said."

    Beth grunted and carried the vase into the kitchen. Lailah heard her putting it into the sink and then hunting for a new vase for the flowers. Suddenly she remembered that they'd been arguing.

    "My show's pretty much over by now; you can play your games." She offered when Beth walked back into the room, the flowers safely in a new vase.

    "You sure?" Beth asked. Carefully, making sure they were far enough from the edge not to be knocked over again, she placed the flowers in their new vase on the entertainment center.

    "Sure," Lailah said with a shrug while she collected sopping wet paper towels, "There's not really anything else on that I wanna watch, so go ahead."

    "Thanks." Beth said with a quick smile.

~ ~ ~

    Even with the commentary her sister provided while playing her games, Lailah still found it very boring to watch Beth play. So she curled up on the couch with a book while her sister lost herself in virtual worlds and characters.

    It was around seven-thirty when Beth tilted her head and announced that their mother was home.

    Lailah put her book down and looked at her sister.

    Her eyes were still glued to the TV screen.

    "I don't hear-"

    The motion-sensitive light outside their front door flicked on, and Lailah turned to look. Sure enough, there was their mother.

    Lailah looked back at Beth. She couldn't believe her sisters' ears sometimes. They'd been sitting in near-complete silence, and somehow Lailah still hadn't heard their Mom's car pull into the attached garage. It was almost freaky how Beth could hear so well, even when she was absorbed in a video game.

    Carrie was laden with bags when she opened the door. "Help please!" She called in a sing-song voice.

    Beth paused the game, and Lailah closed her book. Both hurried to grab a bag and bring it to the dining room table. Delicious scents wafted from the boxes inside them when they put them down.

    Lailah took a deep breath over one. "Mmm, Mom, what'd you get? It smells great..."

    Carrie smiled and began taking the boxes from the bags. "It's just fast food; all the fixings for a great family dinner courtesy of Chicken Queen. Get some plates, please."

- - -

    It wasn't until they were all sitting around the table and eating that Carrie asked how their days had been.

    Beth wished she could come right out and tell her mother everything that'd happened; to tell her about how she'd been discovered during a typical message delivery to a shifter a few blocks away from school, how she'd had to run so long and so hard. She wanted to pour out her heart and cry like a little kid. But that was obviously not an option. Instead, she smiled and said it was fine.

    Lailah began telling their mother all about her day, from the time she left for school until she got home. Beth noticed she left out the part about their argument and breaking the vase, the vase that their grandmother had brought over from England some amount of time ago- the exact length depended on who was telling the story.

    "Sounds like you both had nice days. And it's only Wednesday."

    Beth was beginning to think that they were going to get by without their mother finding out about the vase, until she realized that it was still in the sink.

    "Mom, why don't you let me do the dishes tonight?" Beth asked, stepping in front of her when she began to carry the dishes into the kitchen.

    Carrie blinked several times in surprise. "You want to do the dishes? You never want to do the dishes. What's going on?"

    Beth shrugged and tried to smile innocently. "Just...wanna help out. After all, you worked late tonight."

    Carrie looked into her eyes for long moment as if she could gauge the truth in her words. "Fine."

    Beth gave Lailah a thumbs-up when Carrie turned away, and then ducked into the kitchen.

    But where to hide a broken antique vase?

    She thought of the cabinets first, but which one could she choose that her mother wouldn't open before she got a chance to try and fix the vase?

    There was a cabinet dedicated to dishes, another for glasses, another for Tupperware. Then there were the cabinets for food. Mostly canned but not exclusively. There was no way for Beth to know what her mother would have for breakfast the next morning or where she'd look for a snack between then and bedtime. But where else would she put it?

    Beth went to one of the drawers and pulled out a dish towel. It was just big enough to cover the vase, so she swung one of the cabinets with the more rarely used canned goods and placed the vase carefully in the back. With the towel flung over it it was nowhere near invisible, but it wasn't quite as obvious what it was. It would buy her time so she could sneak it upstairs later and try to fix it. Or maybe she could do it tomorrow, or-

    "What are you looking for?" Carrie asked, coming into the kitchen.

    Beth straightened up, slamming the door of the cabinet shut. "Nothing." She said with a smile.

    Carrie raised her eyebrow; she never trusted Beth's innocent smiles. "All right. Those dishes sure don't look any cleaner."

    Beth had left the dishes on the counter beside the sink. She glanced at them and cleared her throat. "Oh, yeah, sorry."

    Carrie walked in and turned on the water, holding one hand in the stream to judge the temperature. "What's up with you? Something go wrong today? Tell me what's really going on."

    Beth blinked a few times in surprise.

    "Don't worry," Carrie said without looking at her, "Lailah went upstairs to take a shower."

    Beth let out a sigh and walked over to help wash the dishes. "I got chased by a couple of them today. Wolves this time."

    Carrie frowned and put a hand on Beth's arm. It was wet, but Beth didn't really care. "I'm sorry sweetie."

    "I almost got home after Lailah."

    "Oh?"

    "That's it? 'Oh'? What if I'd come home too late? What would I have told her?"

    Carrie laughed softly and leaned over to give Beth a quick kiss on the forehead. "You worry too much, sweetheart."

    "Worry too- what do you mean? I do not!"

    "You do. If you'd come home late you would have thought of something. You always do."

    "But what if I couldn't?"

    "Lailah loves you. She would trust whatever you told her even if it was stupid or incredibly unlikely."

    Beth sighed. "Somehow that doesn't help. Are we ever going to tell her the truth? She has to know what she is. Allshifters-"

    "Ssh!" Carrie hissed so intensely that Beth jumped, dropped the dish she'd been washing into the soapy water, and stared with wide eyes at her mother.

    "I...I thought Lailah was upstairs." She stammered,

    "She is, but you know that we do not talk about that. It's just...too risky."

    Beth swallowed hard. "But..."

    "But nothing. We don't talk about it unless we know it's safe."

    "Why would anyone listen in on a random house here? There's nothing to suggest-"

    "You never know."

    "...Better safe than sorry, right?" Beth sighed, grabbing her dropped dish again and going back to washing it.

    "That's my girl."

- - -

      At ten, Lailah finally went to bed. Beth was dozing on the couch, and Carrie sat beside her.
      The thump of her bedroom door seemed to jolt Beth out of her half-sleep. She wobbled unsteadily when she stood up, and took a moment to steady herself.

      "Mm goin' to bed..." She slurred.

      Carrie stood also. "Not until I take a look at your shoulder."

      Beth paused, staring at her mother. There was a long pause while her exhausted mind processed those words. "Why?"

      "Don't think I didn't notice how stiffly you're using your arm. A mother knows."

      Another long pause. Beth sighed. "I fell hard on it. There's a bruise."

      Carrie took a deep breath. "Okay. Take off your shirt, let me see."

      Beth obeyed. The curtains were closed, so there was no reason to protest. She did her best to keep her sweatshirt from pulling her injured arm away from the semi-comfortable position it was in.

      When she saw the bruise on Beth's shoulder, ugly and purple, Carrie closed her eyes for a moment. "What's the pain like?"

      Beth yawned. Her eyes were only half-open and she slouched. "Throbbing, but not quite a stab."

      "Why didn't you tell me earlier? We could've told Lailah you did it at school or something."

      The sleepy teenager shrugged with her one good shoulder. "I dunno. It's just easier to ignore it- I thought it'd get better so I didn't want to cause a scene."

      Carrie nodded. She didn't say anything because there was a lump in her throat. When her children hurt, she hurt, and the idea that her girl could be so used to ignoring pain that she'd sit in misery all night was enough to make her cry. But she swallowed her tears with considerable effort and cleared her throat. "Put some ice on it while you're getting ready for bed. Then we'll put on some more in the morning before school."

      Beth grunted, eyes closed.

      "I'll get the ice pack. You go upstairs."

      Mechanically, Beth stood, grabbed her shirt in one hand, and fumbled up the stairs.

      After she was upstairs, Carrie sighed heavily and stood up. She went to the kitchen, feeling tired and miserable. She hated the fact that Beth had to suffer so much. She despised the fact that there was nothing she could do for it. She felt like a hamster on a wheel, running and running with nowhere to go. For a moment she wondered if regular people ever wanted to just sit on the ground and scream until their voice gave out.

      She was looking in the freezer, reaching for the ice pack, when her cell phone chimed in the living room.

      Carrie leaned back to look into the other room, and slowly closed the freezer door. The ice pack was so cold that her fingertips ached, but she ignored it and walked slowly to the coffee table. It was too late for anyone to text her for anything normal. Only emergencies came now. She felt like she was walking on eggshells. Every sense was alert.

      The blinds and curtains were all closed, so at least no one could be looking in. The house was silent. Carrie tried to control her trembling while she checked her new message.

      Her breath caught in her throat when she saw the number. It was one she hadn't seen for several years. She stared at the message for a moment, and then looked up at the sliding door.

      The wooden slat curtain was across the glass and closed. She couldn't see outside. Cautiously she went to the door and listened.

      She heard the scrape of boots on the wood outside.

      Her heart leaped into her throat, but she checked the message again, and then replied with a message that would seem totally random to anyone but the person it was intended for.

      Have some honey with your orange juice?

      The response came almost immediately.

      Only if it's diet.

      Carrie nudged a wooden slat aside to double-check, and then slid open the door.

      "Ronnie?"

      Ron hurried inside without being invited, and slid the door closed behind him. That done, he turned a wide, crooked smile at Carrie. "Miss me?"

      She tilted her head and studied him for a moment. He still stood tall and confidant, but his clothes were dirty, like he'd been crawling around in the woods for a while. His curly, brown-blond hair looked unwashed and hung to his shoulders. Dirt was smudged on his skin, and a few newer scars stood out against his sunburned cheeks. His dark blue eyes still shone like she remembered. He held out his arms like he was waiting for a hug.

      "Where on earth have you been?" She asked, raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms.

      Ron put on a serious tone and dropped his arms to his sides, but smiled. "Sorry Miss. If I told you that, I'd have to kill you."

      She rolled her eyes. "Uh-huh."

      "Actually I...what's the ice for?"

      Carrie looked down at her hand. She'd totally forgotten about the ice pack, and was only now beginning to realize that her fingers were beginning to ache from the cold. She passed it to the other hand and cleared her throat. "Beth's shoulder. She fell today."

      A shadow passed over Ron's bright eyes. "So I heard. Is she okay?"

      "Just a nasty bruise. Doesn't seem to be anything more."

      "Good."

     "I'll just run this upstairs to her. Feel free to eat anything in the fridge, except for the stuff in the purple and the blue container. Those are the girl's lunches for tomorrow." Carrie said, heading towards the stairs.

     "Right. But, I actually have something to tell you."

     "Can it wait for a couple of minutes? I'll be right down."

     Ron seemed to consider that for a heartbeat. "Fine. But just a couple of minutes. Any longer and I'm coming up there."

     Carrie nodded and rushed upstairs.


     Beth was lying on her bed, on top of the covers, with her right arm dangling off the edge. She snored into her pillow, totally unresponsive when Carrie entered the room. Hobo was curled beside her, his tail curled over his nose and his paws twitching in his sleep.

     Carrie sighed in the doorway. It was sad, really. Beth was only seventeen, but had to deal with so much. At her age, most girls were worried about homework, friends, and applying to colleges. Meanwhile, Beth had to deal with schoolwork, hiding her tail, hiding from anyone who might know what she was, staying perfectly under the radar, making messenger runs to various people around the city, staying alive, and keeping her sister as 'in the dark' about it all as possible.

      Hobo let out an inquisitive mrrp and stretched out so he was lying all along Beth's side when Carrie entered the room.

      She walked to the bed and carefully laid the ice pack on Beth's shoulder. The girl stirred slightly, mumbling in her sleep and turning her head. After a moment, her eyes opened just a little. She probably wasn't even actually awake.

     "Ssh, go back to sleep."

     "Who's here? I heard the door..." Beth mumbled.

     Carrie wasn't sure if she'd really heard the back door, or if it had been part of a dream. "Ron's here. He's sorry you got hurt." She ran her fingers through the girl's messy blond hair, attempting to smooth it. "You can see him in the morning, go back to sleep, baby."

      That had been a sort of secret test. If Beth were really awake, she would have made a face at Carrie's calling her 'baby'. The teenager didn't even respond. Instead, her bleary eyes closed again and she immediately fell back to sleep.


     When Carrie came down the stairs, Ron had a fork in a tupperware container of leftover taco meat. He was looking up at her when she got to the bottom of the stairs.

     "Okay, what's so important?" She asked. "I have work tomorrow. I have to go to bed."

     Ron swallowed and looked down into his midnight snack. "You and the girls have to leave. Tomorrow morning at the latest."

     Carrie stared at him.

     "Don't make it obvious. Do you have beach stuff? Chairs and an umbrella? Make it look like you're going to the beach."

     "You're serious?" Carrie asked.

     Ron looked up at her evenly. The brightness, she realized, had been due to urgency, not his usual enthusiasm. "You're in danger. All three of you."

     "From what?"

     "From them. They know Lailah is here. Or at least they know she's in this area. They've begun searching houses. Sporadically. Just this morning they posed as police and searched your neighbor's place."

     Carrie felt a little lightheaded at hearing how close they'd been.

     "We have no way of knowing where or when they'll search next. It could be here tomorrow. That's why you have to leave. Early, too. But not too early."

     "Don't want it to seem like we're running. Even though we are."

     "Exactly."

     Carrie leaned against the dining room table to subtly steady herself. "But isn't your showing up a little suspicious? I don't normally get visitors this late at night."

     Ron smiled and took a bite of taco meat. "If anyone asks, I'm your secret lover, Pierre. I'm a stock broker in town from Paris on a business trip."

      Carrie smiled, willing herself to relax. "You don't look like a Pierre."

     "Oh?"
     
     "Crocodile Dundee, maybe. You just need a machete."

     "I would be awesome with a machete."

     Carrie laughed, then sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "Can we wait until morning? The girls and I get up about six. If it's as dangerous out there as you say, the more sleep we can get, the better."

     Ron put the container down and sighed. "Can you make it five? I'd rather we left before first light though."

     "We? You're going with us? Wait..." She sank into a chair. "Don't tell me we're going to another safe house."

     "...In Colorado."

     Carrie groaned and slumped back in the chair. "No, we can't. I don't want Lailah to have to live like that. And you know how Beth will hate it. She remembers from when she was little."

     "Beth knows that some things just have to be done. She'll deal with it. It's just for now."

     "It's so late for this..."

     "Care, you know that if there was anything else that could be done right now, I'd be pushing for it. This is what we have to do."

     Carrie reached out and took her friend's hand. "Five in the morning." She said, staring at the table. "You mind sleeping on the couch?"

     "I've had much worse."