The House (6 page)

“You … um …
were rambling about something last night.” He looked tentative,
shy. Hercules wasn’t shy. And that meant that I had to have been
rambling about my time in the witches’ Covenant. I hoped I hadn’t
said too much, I don’t like pity and that’s what it looked like he
was about to give me. “We would never send you anywhere you didn’t
want to go Trix.”

“I know. Thank
you for staying.” I hadn’t been kidding when I said we needed
contact, lots of hugs, even if it was just someone there in case
you woke up. Although I was surprised it was Hercules and not
Stripes who’d stayed.

“Well, you
slept in the chair in my room for long enough … it’s the least I
can do to return the favour.” Yeah, we were all messed-up. Hercules
had come to us in James’ arms and he could barely stand to be alone
at first. I’d slept in the chair in his room for a full week and
then occasionally in his bed over the next few months as we grew to
be better friends. It was a lot more comfortable than the chair,
and he woke up less and less in the night. Eventually, he didn’t
need me at all and I had been glad. It had been good to be back in
my own room all the time. I had missed my own bed and my own
blanket and the soft toys that I kept there. But soft toys weren’t
going to make me feel better just then. I didn’t even think a hug
would do it.

“You could have
come in the bed.” I have a double bed; it’s meant to fit two people
so it wasn’t too intimate to share it with someone else. Stripes
would have come to bed. Hell, Hercules would normally have come to
bed. Cuddles are best in warm cosy beds and mine was set up to be
just that. I didn’t go in for sexy anything in my bedroom; it was
comfort all the way.

“I didn’t think
you’d want to be touched after what happened with the new guy.” Oh.
He would have come to bed; he just didn’t want to be shocked by my
power. It almost made me smile but I had a feeling it had worried
him. If it had never happened to me I doubted it had ever happened
to Hercules. He wouldn’t like that he didn’t know what was going
on. I had the impression that Hercules, in a former life, had been
a control freak.

“Thank you.”
And there were tears in my eyes again. I tried desperately to keep
them there, not to let them fall down my face, but Hercules came
over and slid into bed beside me anyway. The last of my iron
control slipped as he held me. He was so warm and nice, so
comforting. Why being comforted made me cry again I don’t know, but
he held me until the tears stopped and my breathing steadied and I
felt better for it.

“Thank you,” I
said again. He squeezed me once, a reminder of the strength in that
body. It made me feel safer. “I think I can get up now.”

I swung my legs
all out of bed and was standing up by the time I realised that all
I was wearing was a long t-shirt. I normally slept in a hot pink
shorts and top set that I’d gotten for my last birthday; I must
have put them in the wash and not got any other pyjamas out yet. Oh
well, it wasn’t like Hercules hadn’t seen it all before. I mean, I
can’t shift without destroying whatever I happen to be wearing so I
just take all my clothes off first. I don’t walk around the house
naked, and I have never had sex with Hercules. It would be too
strange.

My room doesn’t
have its own bathroom but it is right next door and luckily it was
free. We all kept our wash things on our own shelves. This bathroom
was only used by those of us that stayed permanently at the House.
It was painted a pale blue and had large white heated tiles on the
floor. It’s great in the winter when the cold sets in. In the
summer I tend to turn them off but someone always puts them back on
and I’ve yet to find out who. When the summer came around again I
would remember to find out, I thought to myself.

The warm water
washed away some of my stress and worries. I love the shower. I let
the water pound onto my back and sooth my tense muscles. I had to
wash my hair as well since it was greasy enough to stick to my
head. It took away some of the luxury and relaxing nature of the
water, but it had to be done. I’m always surprised that my hair
survives everything I do to it. Between brushing, blow drying and
styling, I also have it dyed once a month. Somehow it’s managed to
stay sleek and shiny. However, that might be because of the
treatments I have at the hairdressers rather than stellar genetics.
Not to mention a spell or two from my former life at the
Covenant.

My towels are
orange. They’ve been that way since I was seven and orange was my
favourite colour. They get replaced every so often so that they’re
always soft and fluffy. The towel, like the floor and the water,
was amazingly warm and helped to calm me. I don’t know what it is
about being clean but it always makes me feel better. More in
control, I needed that. The attack and my grandfather had given me
a sense of loss of control and it was part of what was scaring me.
I like to know that I choose my own life. It’s good for the
self-esteem.

Hercules was
still in my room when I got back; he’d managed to shower and change
in the time it took me to wash my hair. He looked gorgeous as
always, but it did little to move me. He’s a player. Whether by
accident or design I don’t care, he’s still a player. Although he
is certainly lovely to look at. He’s also one of my best friends so
I try not to judge too much. Sometimes I thought it was strange
that someone I’d known six months had become so close a friend to
me, but that was what happened when you spent your life dragging
people back to normality. It’s hard not to get attached.

I selected a
pair of reasonably tight jeans and a scoop-neck top that said: ‘I
could be your dream girl, if you don’t piss me off.’ Fluffy pink
socks that reached my knees went on over my jeans so that I could
put boots on when I went out. Before I left the room I carefully
applied my make-up and blow-dried my hair into loose, messy curls
that would be lucky to last till lunch time. There was no reason
for all the primping - I probably wasn’t going anywhere - but it
made me feel better. It’s just easier to face the world with a full
face of make-up sometimes.

“Marie wants to
talk to you.” I’d forgotten all about Hercules whilst concentrating
on my beauty regime. Part of my mind was vaguely aware that I’d
just dressed in front of him, but it was a secondary part that the
rest of my brain paid little attention to. Modesty is something all
shifters learn to lose quickly. Sometimes I wondered if I’d ever
had any.

I nodded in
thanks as I passed him on the way out. He left my room but didn’t
follow me and I realised that he didn’t tell me where Marie
actually was. I went with the closest; there was a good chance she
was in her private living room.

It was a lucky
guess. Marie was sat in her loose trousers and pastel blouse doing
cross-stitch on the sofa. She was the epitome of what everyone
thought a grandmother should look like. It was irrelevant that she
wasn’t even technically a mother, let alone a grandmother.
Especially as she looked like she was still in her early to
mid-forties.

“You wanted to
see me,” I said. She looked up and smiled in an almost
condescending way.

“Yes, I’m sorry
to ask this after your rather uncouth introduction yesterday but
would you be able to show Edward around?” She looked at me
expectantly and I looked back blankly. “The new lion,” she
prompted.

“Oh, right,
yeah. I guess.” I was clueless as to why she was asking me. One of
the guys would have been better suited and Marie was the best for
the therapy side of things. She’d actually done a degree in
psychology so that she would better be able to help and understand
all the shifters that came through our doors.

“He’s already
refused my counsel and, honestly, I don’t think James or Shaun has
the knowledge to help him properly. I don’t know where he came from
or why he’s here. I can’t help him if I don’t know anything about
it. Please be nice to him.” She added the last after a moment of
hesitation and I had to smile. I had a habit of scaring away
newcomers. Marie had to send me out after Stripes and it took me
two days to convince her to come back. That was after the day and a
half it had taken me to find her.

“I’ll try,” I
sighed. I didn’t want to try to coax out the life story of someone
I’d only met once. I’m sure that meeting someone then promptly
seeing them fall apart is not a good way to set up a
therapist-patient relationship. Well, not if it’s the therapist who
falls apart.

“Good. He’s in
the TV room.” I had been dismissed. I nodded to Marie in
acknowledgement and swept out the room into the hallway.

The TV room is
downstairs and has at least twelve chairs, none of which match, and
a large flatscreen television. There’s also a cupboard full of DVDs
and games to go with the ones loaded on the TV. Eddie was sitting
on one of the more comfortable chairs watching a documentary on, of
all things, lions. I hadn’t even known we had that one. The only
programming we got was the news so I knew it had to be one of the
DVDs. I wondered when we had gotten it; maybe someone had thought
it was a good joke? It was hard enough to find anything on DVD but
we liked to have the cases lined up along the wall. There were more
films and programmes loaded onto the TV than we had space for in
the room. The collection had been growing for near on a hundred
years.

“Surely you
don’t need to watch that for information on your other form,” I
laughed. I couldn’t help it. It took me a second to remember that I
was supposed to be trying not to scare him away. Oh well, he could
take me or leave me as I was. I couldn’t help it.

“Can’t hurt,”
he shrugged. God, he seemed new. But I’d felt his power and no way
was he a new shifter.

“Come on. We’ve
got nothing in common with these animals except that we have the
same form.” I smiled; trying to show that I was teasing him. Except
I wasn’t. We’re nothing like the animals whose forms we share.

“Maybe I want
to understand my lion,” he replied. I just couldn’t believe he’d
said that. My mouth actually opened and stayed that way for a
moment. He wanted to understand his lion. I was gobsmacked. I
realised why Marie was having so much trouble with him.

“Who changed
you?” I asked. If he was saying things like that then he hadn’t
been taught well at all. It made him seem so new, but I was certain
he wasn’t. “And when?”

“Those are kind
of personal questions,” he stated, his gaze never leaving the
television. It was beginning to annoy me that he was barely paying
any attention to me. It was rude. I subtly stole the remote off his
chair arm and turned off the television. He turned to me with a
murderous glint in his eyes.

I doubled over
laughing then, it was just too funny. I could practically see his
second form underneath his eyes. He seemed to be fighting the
change, and again it made him seem new. Most of us have no problem
not changing, even to start with. It’s more of an issue trying to
get yourself to change; a lot of people just can’t get their heads
around it, like learning to wiggle your ears. Then again, I’d felt
his power and the more powerful you are the easier it is to take
your second form. I really wanted to know what kind of psychology
had made him link shifting to anger. Anger normally made magic more
difficult like all strong emotions.

“Because you
seem so new but you’re not,” I said, raising my eyebrows. He was
right that it was kind of a personal question in that it was about
family, but it was more along the lines of “who’s your mum and
dad?” than anything too probing. But I reminded myself that he was
here for help and that meant he probably wasn’t up to scratch on
his etiquette.

He jumped
slightly. “How would you know that?” he asked.

“You don’t feel
new.” It was the only reply I could think of. His power in my head
didn’t seem new, or rather it didn’t seem new to him. Power never
actually felt new in and of itself. In fact I had the distinct
feeling that the power was ancient, but there was always a feel to
it when someone was new to their power. Like they were still
getting to know each other and hadn’t quite worked out all the
kinks yet.

“I was changed
eight years ago.” His voice was closed and his words clipped short.
He was so rude it was starting to make me mad. I had to take a
couple of deep breaths to calm down. I was still standing where I’d
started. I didn’t feel comfortable enough with him to sit down.
Something about him made me want to be able to get away
quickly.

“Alright,
whatever. If you’re not going to let anyone help you, you might as
well go back where you came from.” I turned around and walked right
out the door. The breathing hadn’t really worked all that well. I
was sure he had some kind of terrible past to make him so irritable
and generally rude and unhelpful. Then again, didn’t we all.

I made it all
the way to the kitchen and had snagged a piece of well-buttered
toast from James’ plate before he caught up. I move damn quick when
I want to. I leant against the counter whilst ignoring James’ glare
about the toast. He wouldn’t do anything more than glare over a
piece of toast. The last slice of cake? Now for that I would have
run straight out to the garden to hide. Eddie just stood in the
archway looking lost as we went about our general business. It
could have been breakfast in any household almost anywhere.

“I thought you
wanted to watch your documentary,” I said to him nonchalantly.

“You took the
remote with you,” Eddie replied accusingly. I laughed. I’d
forgotten to put the remote down when I left the room and had put
it on the kitchen counter as I entered. “How’d you move so fast
anyway?”

I shrugged.
“Part of the package.” Not that he’d necessarily be able to do it
himself. I had a special kind of speed that none of the others at
The House had. At least he was talking to me. I figured he’d keep
talking if I could find something he actually wanted to know. If I
left it so that he thought he could learn to move faster … well,
it’s not my fault he misunderstood.