Page 37 of Research with Rivals
It wouldn’t—it’d be like my flame burning my own palm.
Evelyn the brown-eyed veil cat might not have wanted me around, but Evelyn entirely ceding control to her shifted animal seemed to like me. More than that, she seemed to trust me. I wasn’t sure what to make of that.
Slowly, I stood and doused my flame. I warred with myself about how to proceed. There was nothing that truly angered Evelyn more than when I asked questions about her experimental method. It didn’t seem to matter that I was trying to help—that I wanted her and everyone in the library to be safe. She saw it as an invasion. Those were the times I knew she truly disliked me. They were also, unfortunately, the questions I couldn’t help but ask.
It felt similar to the decision I faced now. Evelyn was an adult; if she wanted to give herself over to the shift completely, that was her choice. My mind was ready with the rebuttal.Is it her choice if she doesn’t know how to stop it?
The thought nagged at me. If no one had taught her, was this really her decision?
Her soft fur against the tips of my fingers had me glancing down. She’d wrapped herself around my legs, her tail curled to hold me in place. The position was such that the scruff of her neck was beneath the hand hanging limp at my side.
That was … intimate.
The tips of my ears went hot, and I was glad no one was around to see.
I didn’t want to leave her like this, but hadn’t she made it clear she didn’t want to talk to me tonight?
In her veil cat form, she nuzzled my knee, while I ran my fingers through my hair with indecision.
Without warning, a growl ripped from her throat. She hissed, and her ears were back again as she turned to face me. The brown of Evelyn’s eyes mixed with the yellow-green, and I didn’t think the result would be good. Evelyn was fighting herself too hard. This wasn’t going to end well.
“It’s alright, Evelyn,” I tried. “Breathe. The shift is you, you are the shift. Don’t fight so hard against it.”
It was obvious she didn’t listen from the way her whole body started to shake. I couldn’t leave her now. There was only one way this type of shift could end.
“You’re alright. You’re safe, Evelyn,” I tried to soothe her, like my father had done to me with my first shift, but it didn’t seem to help. Her lip arched to reveal even more teeth. Her hackles rose, and her massive, reddish-brown body shook even more intensely.
I held my hands out as if to prevent the burnout I knew she was barreling toward.
She shook again, and a yowl that chased down my spine like steel against steel slipped from her mouth. With it, she fell to the ground in a heap.
I dropped to my knees again beside her. Tentatively, I reached out to stroke her fur. “You’re safe, Evelyn,” I tried toreassure her, but her eyelids were closed. The slow, even rise and fall of the chest of her veil cat form made it clear she had passed out. I hoped it would only be a few moments before she naturally shifted back into her half-fae form. The change didn’t come as expected.
The small shelter of bushes had served its purpose to preserve her privacy for the shift, but I couldn’t leave her here.
She was a large, wild cat, not at all a tame kitten I could easily carry, but that didn’t change my decision. I scooped her up in my arms. Her size was unwieldy, but physical strength had never been a problem for me. Getting back through the bushes without disturbing her required some maneuvering. From there, I only had one choice.
I didn’t know where she lived. Full dark had fallen, and in no world would she want anyone else to see her in this form. This part of the park was relatively empty; anyone taking a stroll had found their way home or to their evening meal. I covered her with my jacket anyway.
Her feline head pressed against me, and I chose the only option available. We weren’t far from my apartment. It was the closest place I could go to protect her privacy and keep her safe. If she didn’t wake up until morning, it would be less than ideal, but I would cross that bridge when we got to it.
15
Evelyn
Metal clanged against metal in the distance. A pot, maybe? Noises were still fuzzy, the world around me not yet in focus. Wherever I was, it was warm, and I was wrapped in comfort. It smelled like something mundane, but fruitier scents wafted in from the doorway. I felt safe, and I wasn’t ready to leave.
Voices stirred me to life—ones I didn’t recognize. A young girl’s voice floated to the room I had yet to identify. “But why is she in your bed?”
My eyes snapped open.
“My friend wasn’t feeling well. She’s just recovering.”
I knew that voice. It was soft and low and reassuring. I’d heard that tone when we spoke of magic on the ferry.
Why was I waking up to Ambrose Yarrow’s voice?
Scenes of last night flashed through my mind. The park. The clearing behind the bushes. Too-big Ambrose taking up toomuch space within it. Shifting. Fighting desperately for control with my veil cat. I winced.
