Page 393 of Hate Mates

Benji lets out another chirping sound, and I may not speak cat, but I can empathize enough to realize he’s scared. Scared of being discovered, of being out here like this, of probably a thousand things I take for granted from having been forced to get used to a life of hiding to avoid ending up in the humane society until I change back. I’d love to just leave him here. To skip home through the rain and hope my roommate didn’t likewise get caught in the rain so she can let me in. That seems cruel, though, and no matter what his family did to mine, I can’t abandon a scared shifter. Not when the rain is likely going to turn to snow or ice before long. I’m built for this—and been through it—he obviously hasn’t.

Making what I hope is a reassuring bark as softly as I can, I hop onto a stack of condensed cardboard before jumping to a box, a higher one, and then squeezing into the hole just slightly taller than I am I keep ready for days like this. It smells musty but other than the cat currently in it, the space doesn’t seem to have been used by other animals since my last accidental shift. Old towels spread on top of even older cardboard cover the cement and brick that was likely the casing for a safe or time capsule at one point. They will keep us from getting too cold. That whole body heat being sucked out of you through the ground thing. Survival shows have been a longtime passion as a just-in-case should I have to go on the run.

Benji is curled up as far back as he can press himself against the wall licking his legs and shakes even harder as I crouch towalk in a circle. Nudging the bedding into a better nest position, I flop down into it, bringing my tail up over my nose. Yes, I’m perfectly warm. It’ll be a long night, but I should start building up body heat in here soon. My cat-mate? He doesn’t seem quite so resilient, not with such short fur that’s already damp.

Peeking at him through a thinner spot in my tail, I watch the yellow shine of his eyes as it reflects the lights behind me in the loading bay. Still shivering, he looks like he’s about to pass out from fear or cold. Sighing, I stretch out, uncoiling from my cozy ball position. I won’t sleep with him doing that all night. I let out a small huff and smack the towel beneath me.

Penguins cuddle for warmth; so can a dog and cat shifter.

Besides, we’re mates. It’s allowed.

When Benji doesn’t move, I snap my teeth at him followed by a sniff. If I could tell him to get his skinny cat ass over to me, I would. The only thing to do is sleep through as much of the next twenty-six hours as we can. Grudgingly, he slinks over and nestles back against me as little as possible to where his fur tickles the very edges of mine.

I get it. Stubborn rich boy who hates all things shifter must face reality and stay warm with one. Yeah, well, this isn’t my number one way to spend a day either, or so I lie to myself.

Every shifter wants their mate, even when we hate them or when we’re hated by them.

Carefully, I grab the back of his neck in my teeth and tug, pulling him the rest of the way until his bony spine is pressed into my fur all the way. There. He’ll warm up soon.

THREE

Benjamin

I’ve never eaten as a cat. I don’t even know if I have shifted since I was a baby. When Poppy pushes over a bowl with scraps of meat, scrambled eggs, and cheese toward me, I take a tentative bite. It’s good, not that I would ever think the chef here would put out anything bad, even leftovers.

Glancing at Poppy, she grins at me, her tongue draped over her front teeth. There really is no telling a shifter from a “normal” animal of that type. If I saw her like this previously, I would never think she were a shifter, just another Shiba Inu who slipped its collar and went for a run.

Maybe that’s what all those dog sighting posts are: shifters out having a fun run before going back into hiding their true nature. Would it be crass to ask her about that after we can change back? Should I even ask her anything? I don’t even know how to say thanks for…everything. For getting me out of the dining room. For finding me a space to shift unseen. For keeping me warm and safe. For making sure I didn’t have to stay hungry and thirsty or find my own food while stuck like this. For making sure I’m not alone.

The moon’s fullness ticks away like the secondhand on a clock, tiny fractions of its power over us falling away. I’m not sure how I was so unaware of the sensation before. The moon’s pull is as strong as the one I have that tells me where Poppy is. If I’m lucky, that one will fade when I’m back in my human body, when I have to hope the engagement ring is safe, and I can manage to secure my proposal and family’s future.

I can’t even imagine the voicemails and texts waiting for me. Staying a cat might be easier.

Hours pass as I climb—badly—to a windowsill and perch there to watch the world go by. On this side of the buildings, it’s mostly trucks and bikes dodging one another as they find their way to their chosen location’s delivery site. I knew that what guests saw in the restaurants, stores, and galleries was not the full picture, but to see the grit behind the scenes? It’s humbling. I’ll never second guess the price again. From safely tucked behind Poppy, I’d watched the morning deliveries come during a frosty dawn, breath wreathing around the workers’ faces as they hauled plastic bins, used forklifts to move pallets, and swapped news or gossip about the car accident that changed so many things.

My name was never mentioned. I owe her a lot.

Pressure forms in my left nostril, a sneeze taunting me with the threat of knocking me off my perch. I hop down to the floor and let out the sneeze, my whole head shaking like I need an exorcism, and then the cement comes up at my face before it all goes black.

When I wake up,the world is much smaller again, or I’m much larger, and I have clothing and hands instead of fur and paws. I’m me again.

“I didn’t look. Well, Itriednot to look. It was hard to get you into your underwear without seeing anything, but I promise I didn’t touch you like that. Consent and all. Umm…. I should go. I wanted to make sure you were awake and okay before I left you here. That seemed like your first shift in a long while, if ever. If you need a phone to call for a ride or anything, you are welcome to come into the restaurant through those doors. There’s a bathroom to the right with a small shower, a phone charging station, and an old rotary phone. You can clean up a bit and call home, or yeah, whatever.” Poppy nervously shifts her weight side to side. “I’m going to go, Benji. Bye. Good luck and stuff.”

“Um, yeah. Thanks, Poppy.” It seems too little for all she’s done for me, but I can’t really put much more together.

Sitting behind the boxes, I turn on my phone as she walks away, and with each step, it feels like I’m going to puke. Maybe it’s just the effect of eating as a cat.

Maybe it’s what happens when you’re separated from your mate after twenty-four hours of close contact. I shush that internal voice. I can’t hear about that. I have an almost-fiancée to go fix things with and a family to reassure. I text George, not yet ready to deal with my parents.

Days pass,and with each one my parents skim the newspaper and the reports from our public relations team. “Benjamin, it’s been a full week now, and there’s nothing about you other than photos of the ruined proposal and questions of when you’ll try again. The family is safe.”

My skin tightens with each word, the sunroom’s heat becoming stifling as I’m praised for not screwing up a situation that wasn’t in any way my fault. I need fresh air, to escape them and their focus on image over reality.

I never told them about Poppy staying with me through the ordeal. If I had, I’m not sure what they would do to her. Her name never came up; I only told them the server saw that I was covered in glass and took me to the employee changing room to wash my face and rinse my eyes in case of any shards. For all they know, I had to hole up somewhere to avoid the rain. It’s safer for her that way.

The paper rustles as he sets it down and smooths a wrinkle from the front-page story about construction delays downtown. “Your mother and I have taken the liberty of inviting Miss Celestis and her parents here for dinner.”

I clear my throat. “She ended things with me when I disappeared.”

---