Those beautiful lips turned up slightly. “How many potential visions of all the potential futures have you seen?”
“I don’t know. Couple thousand? Maybe more?”
“And in how many were you everu’tlun’ta? In how many did anyone ever have to kill you because you became evil?”
“One?”
“One. Out of thousands.” His lips became a full smile, tender, kind. My heart melted. “The futures show us what might happen if we walk a certain path, if everything we do, every battle we fight, every friend we lose or gain, every good or less-than-good deed we do, results in just one particular choice and outcome. The future isn’t composed of just one path, one single decision, one event. The presentmay be composed of those things, but not the future. The one butterfly we step on today doesn’t make us who we are going to be tomorrow.”
There was an old science fiction story about some man who went back in time and accidently stepped on a butterfly. When he got back to his own time, the death of the butterfly had changed the entire social-political outlook of the planet. It was a time-travel story we had talked about often, a story we had shared with my godchildren and my whole family-of-choice. It was a story of warnings about playing God. Bruiser was telling me that even though I had been a monster many times in my life, I wasn’t destined to remain one or to become a bigger one, and that the choices I had made had resulted in positive consequences as well as negative ones.
I squeezed his fingers.
He released mine and hefted a six-pack of electrolyte water into my lap. “Drink.”
It was gross, but I drank it all and felt a lot better because of that. “Imma take a nap now, okay?”
“Shall I leave you asleep and carry you to bed when we get home?”
I lifted my arm and caught a whiff of stink. “Yuck. Not smelling like this. I foresee a long hot shower in my immediate future.”
“I’ll join you. I can imagine nothing better than to lather you in your new shower, massage away the grime and the salt and the exhaustion, and...” He paused, and then said slowly, “And leave you moaning and smiling.”
Which sounded totally wonderful.
***
The shower in our home—formerly known as the freebie house and still referred to that way though it was nowofficiallytitled the Queen’s Personal Residence in New Orleans—was big enough for two, Bruiser in it with me. That shower was healing and tender. It took forever to get all the filth and sweat and stink off me. I lost count of the necessary, essential, mandatory latherings, but it was lovely, and afterward, I was very,veryclean.
Sadly, the moment I fell onto the sheets, a shift hit.
Sharp pain pricked into my brain as Beast’s mentalpaw shoved me down and down inside our twined souls and toward sleep. My last thought as the pain hit and my bones snapped was that I’d have to be in Beast form all day.
***
Rolled over and put paws on Bruiser chest. Bruiser scratched Beast ears. Beast chuffed softly and closed eyes in happiness.Bruiser is best mate. Is strong and smells good. Smells like Onorio.
“Hey there, Beast. Jane still awake inside you?” he asked, fingers scratching deep into fur.
Am not Jane. Beast showed killing teeth.
“I’m taking that as a no. You want steak?”
Beast hungers.Licked good-smelling Onorio. Did not taste as good as cow, but tasted good. Licked again.
Bruiser slid from mattress and stood naked. Pulled on human clothes. Onorio should grow fur. Was warmer than stupid human skin. Beast stretched slowly on mattress, scrunched back and shoulders and hips into sheets, getting much puma-hair on Jane-bed. Was cat-claiming. Mate laughed. Beast rolled. Reached with body and draped front paws to floor, body and legs pulled long, slid off. Landed. Shook pelt. Yawned.
Beast followed mate out of bedroom, into kitchen. Sat on floor and curled tail around paws. Bruiser got dead cow meat from cold place called fridge and put in small white box to run around and make warm. Smell of cow was good on air. Licked jaw. Would not be much blood. Stupid humans did not like to drink blood. But cow was still good meat. Had hunted wil-de-beest and longhorn cow with sharp pointed trees on head with Edmund and Eli in big truck. Was better than warmed cow from fridge with water-blood. But was much work to hunt cow, and Beast hungered.
Bruiser took cow meat from small box and placed on plates. Two plates. Beast smelled cow meat and werewolf. Brute was behind Beast.
Snarled. Beast whirled back, front legs over own shoulder. Shoved off with back legs. Spun in air, lithe and lissome. Jane’s words for Beast.
But Brute wavered and was not there. Beast landedwhere Brute had been. Brute was beside table. Brute chuffed dog-chuff. Beast snarled. Looked at Bruiser. Mate was standing, plate in each hand, watching, strange look on his face. Bruiser had not seen Brute timewalk before. Brute had been at sweathouse. Brute only came when needed something, when was important. Must be important for Bruiser to see Brute timewalk.
Snarled again.Is Beast cow from cold place and white box to make warm. Is Beast’s.
Brute lay down, belly to floor, panting, tongue hanging. Brute was big werewolf. Was twice the size of Beast. But was not acting male-wolf-alpha.
