The House (34 page)

“Don’t go
anywhere now, it’s not safe!” I shouted after him.

No sooner had
Eddie left than Hercules poked his head around the door. He made
his way to my bed, pushing his hair out of his eyes. He looked
forlorn and tired. I wondered how much sleep he’d gotten lately. I
seemed to have spent more time asleep than awake but I’d not paid
enough attention to my friends. We had all lost a mother, we all
felt useless, and we all carried the same nugget of fear in our
hearts.

“She’s still
alive,” I said. I wasn’t looking at Hercules but I could feel his
eyes on me. Eddie had made me laugh but he’d left me in a sour
mood. I did not want to laugh, I wanted to do something. I had my
power under control again. I kept thinking to myself that I should
be doing something. Yet when I tried to think of something useful
to do I came against a blank wall.

“Yeah, it’s
not so easy to kill Marie. And Shayana and Stripes will give them a
fight if they try.” I looked at him then, he was trying to look
confident but there was an edge of worry to him. “We will find them
and woe betide whoever took them.” He sounded more like James than
himself when he spoke like that. I sighed.

“We need to
keep an eye on Eddie; I think he’s looking to do something stupid.”
I sounded tired again but I could not sleep, not yet, not with so
much rushing through my head. “And we need to go food shopping.
Marie will kill us if she comes back and we’ve let ourselves become
half-starved.” If I thought about food and bills and work then I
wouldn’t have to think of the friends we weren’t even sure we would
find.

“James ordered
a shop online,” Hercules replied. I nodded; it was safer that way
even if a part of me missed walking through the aisles choosing the
best meat or the juiciest fruit. Marie always said that you got
better deals that way, when you could see what you were buying. We
even went to the independent butcher or the baker when we could.
They knew us by sight. “And I’m afraid Eddie just left...” I’d
heard it too – the soft click of the front door – I just hadn’t
fully thought it through. “...but we’ve done all we can for him. If
he doesn’t want to be helped there is nothing we can do. Come on,
nobody’s done any cleaning lately.” I made a face. I hated
cleaning.

Fortunately,
James was waiting for us in the kitchen. He was dressed all in
black with a tight fitted top that showed off his muscled form and
sweat pants that weren’t quite jogging bottoms. He looked fierce
but Marlow put him to shame as he walked in. His clothes were less
uniform, still black but not completely monochrome. His top was
tight and it fit well. He looked huge, like he was too big for the
kitchen. I realised that I hadn’t actually seen much of Marlow. I
worried that he was coping even worse than I was but I didn’t know
him well enough to take a guess at whether all the solitude was
normal or not.

I actually did a double take. I could have sworn he was
taller than when I’d last seen him. It must have been only days
before, yet I’d not thought that James looked small beside him
then. But adults did not grow taller, they just did not. Just like
empaths do not become telepaths a little voice in my head told me.
It was my own voice though and I ignored it. I had to – adults
did
not
grow
taller.

“You need to
learn to fight,” James said. “These people destroyed me and you
guys can’t spend the rest of your lives hiding in this house, so
you’re going to learn to defend yourselves.” His voice brooked no
argument and, in truth, I was simply happy not to be on cleaning
duty. “Come on.”

They walked
straight from the kitchen and through the house to the back garden.
There was a small cache of weapons on the deck that we went past
without stopping. James and Marlow made their way to a marked out
square on the lawn. I trailed along warily then. I didn’t like the
sound of this learning any more. I didn’t trust the methods they
would use. I almost argued that we needed to do some cleaning but I
didn’t have it in me to be quite so cowardly. I would never live it
down.

“This is our
street or square or room or whatever. You’ll never have to fight in
an open space in reality; there aren’t enough of them left.” James
gestured to the markings on the ground. “You can’t step outside
this space and you shouldn’t hit the edge either. In real life,
getting slammed into a wall will hurt.” I wondered whether he had
been thrown into a wall when Stripes was taken. I didn’t want to
ask. I also had a feeling that it was going to hurt anyway, wall or
no wall, real or not.

To start with
we had to warm up. I did point out that an attacker wasn’t going to
wait for me to stretch first but James and Marlow didn’t take it
very well. So I stood and stretched out and felt like an idiot in
the middle of the lawn. At least the garden wasn’t overlooked. Of
course, that was probably more important for what came next. It
wasn’t the warmest of days either but at least it had stopped
raining. I didn’t even want to think about landing on the damp
grass.

They
demonstrated a move first, and then expected us to follow the
movement without actually hitting anyone. It was easy to begin with
– deflecting punches and then kicks at a snail’s pace. I felt like
a fool waving my arms in the air until Marlow came at me with real
punches. I couldn’t quite move fast enough. I could barely follow
his hands, let alone block them. He made contact with almost every
try.

I was sweating
by the time he stopped. Sweating and bruised by the feel of it. At
least the bruises wouldn’t last long, the advantages of being a
shifter. I also understood why it had been Marlow who had sparred
with me while James was drilling Hercules.

In a real fight he would still beat me but, no matter how
well-trained he was, James would always be slower than me and he’d
never make me faster. Marlow
was
faster than me; a true-born shifter and very
well-trained.

“You need to move faster,” he told me. I really wanted to hit
him but I’d never make contact. ‘Move
faster
’ he tells me; it wasn’t like
I wasn’t trying. I mean, to start with maybe I had been a bit lax
but after the first fist connected with my jaw I was certainly
paying attention. He moved too fast to see; how was I supposed to
block him?

“I can’t move
any faster, it’s not possible,” I said indignantly. I would not be
made a fool of, not by Marlow. I had a feeling he was angry with me
about Shayana, but it wasn’t my fault she’d been taken. Even if she
had been on her way home from the House.

I thought it
would do Marlow more good to beat the crap out of Hercules as he
was the last one to see her but, no, he chose me. Or maybe he was
just venting his frustrations now that he had someone to hit. I
really hoped that he didn’t start using his full strength. I didn’t
think I’d survive it.

“
I’m
moving
faster,” he replied. Of course he was. That was why he kept hitting
me. I glanced over at James and Hercules. There wasn’t a mark on
Hercules but that wasn’t because nothing was getting though. In
fact, the two were quite evenly matched on speed. James was perhaps
the slightly faster and far better trained. I winced as James’ fist
connected first with Hercules head and then his ribs with an
almighty crack. They kept going though, something I wouldn’t have
done. Hercules had badly bruised my ribs during our fight but he
hadn’t really done much more than that, just a hairline fracture,
but I could see Hercules’ rib starting to poke out. It would have
put me completely out of the fight. Then again, I supposed if I was
fighting for my life I’d probably keep going.

To Marlow I
said, “Well, we all have our gifts.” Just to have some reply to his
comment about moving faster. Sure, he was faster and stronger but
he couldn’t read minds.

Then I had to
put a stop to James and Hercules. “You two better quit before that
rib comes through the skin. You’re pushing it further out with
every breath.” They stopped when they realised I was speaking to
them and I saw Hercules look down at himself. Then, of course, I
noticed that the only reason I could see that his rib was starting
to protrude was that he’d taken his top off. Trust me not to notice
that sooner only to find myself staring at him now. Mind you, I’d
been busy avoiding Marlow before so I had an excuse. I was amazed
he wasn’t freezing, but then he healed fast enough not to feel
it.

I looked away,
back at Marlow. Hercules could sort his own injuries out and I
could stop looking at him. I wondered for a moment where Eddie had
gone, then blushed when I realised thinking about Hercules topless
had made me think of Eddie. I didn’t have time to wonder long
though. Marlow came at me in a fury of punches and kicks.

I blocked the
second and third punches before a kick knocked me over. He kept
coming and I starting muttering to myself about fair play knowing
full well he could hear me talking under my breath.

I rolled to
avoid the next kick that looked as though it would have given me a
concussion and focused on trying to stand up. I was edging away and
getting far too close not only to the “wall” but to James and
Hercules, who were now throwing punches with wild abandon and not
looking at the floor where I was. Marlow was still coming towards
me. I moved faster.

I
shimmered.

Nobody told me
it was cheating, so I did it. Just enough that my being on the
floor had little effect. I shimmered quickly, almost too fast to
see, and then back again. It left me on my feet just in time to
duck under Marlow’s arm and land my first punch of the session on
his ribs. He didn’t acknowledge that he’d felt it at all. Typical
male.

The fight
didn’t stop and nobody told me that I was breaking the rules. I was
still thinking in terms of our play fights; sometimes we got hurt
in them but never seriously. The kind of fighting that we were
talking about here was very close to a fight to the death, or at
least seriously maimed. I didn’t want to hurt Marlow though. I was
fairly sure he didn’t want to seriously hurt me either. At least,
he hadn’t knocked me unconscious yet so I was holding out hope. We
were supposed to be learning.

I shimmered my
hand again, keeping my fingers and gaining some claws. I also
shimmered my teeth just in case. The effort of holding my other
form while avoiding continuous blows from Marlow was almost
impossible. I had never had to concentrate so much to do something
that came so naturally to me. I lost my sharper teeth at the first
punch, keeping my claws only barely. It made me slower.

Slower I may
have been but each time I connected with Marlow was more damaging
to him. I managed to cut his leg and scratch his arms several
times. I couldn’t find his body with my hands, especially clawed as
they were. All I was doing was harrying him; he didn’t even seem to
feel my kicks and punches. I, however, felt every one of his.

When he
shimmered his own hands to claws I had to call a halt before I got
seriously hurt. I didn’t heal as fast as the boys and sometimes
they forgot that. I tried to signal him to stop, between avoiding
his very sharp claws and the odd kick that would likely knock me
out if it got anywhere near my head. I needed every breath to keep
moving. I didn’t have enough for talking.

Theoretically,
I could have used telepathy, but it requires concentration and I
was using all of mine to keep abreast of the flying limbs around
me. Some of the limbs were even my own. I could feel bruises
starting on my arms and legs where I’d blocked blows to my torso
that would have been more damaging. I had a feeling that a human
would have at least broken an arm, if not more.

It took
another five minutes that felt like five hours before I realised
that I was avoiding blows. Marlow still managed to land a good few,
enough that I was starting to ache, but I was moving faster than
before. I had let go of my claws without realising it, the extra
effort apparently going straight into my speed. For a moment it
felt like I was floating, then a blow came down on my shoulder that
sent pain shooting down my arm so badly that I couldn’t move
it.

Marlow stopped
then. “I’m sorry about that one, Trix.” He didn’t sound sorry but I
let it slide. The pain was fast becoming numbness and I was
becoming increasingly worried that it would result in a trip to the
hospital. “I told you you could move faster though, and you did
when you let go of everything else.”

“I have found
a flaw in your plan, Marlow,” I growled; the pain was driving me
closer towards my lion form. Normally it takes a lot of
concentration to change but changing helps us to heal, so sometimes
seriously injured shifters do it unconsciously. A reflex to protect
ourselves. That I was starting to lose control of my shift said
more than anything how hurt I was – perhaps it wasn’t just my arm.
“There is no way that I could keep that up and there is only one of
you. James was attacked by four. And I couldn’t hold a shift while
you were attacking so I really don’t have much of a chance of
attacking.”

“This is only
the first lesson. I’ll teach you how to attack eventually. First,
you need to learn how to defend yourself. You use your arms well
but I bet they’re hurting now.” I nodded meekly. “You need to use
your legs more; they’re stronger so you’ll be better able to hold
off attacks.” I nodded again, sharply, and then turned away.

Marlow started
to follow me until I started to undress. He got the picture then
and backed off slightly, looking at least a little bit sorry. I
struggled with my clothes and threw them onto the floor in a vague
semblance of a pile. I would have to change again since my top had
so many sweat stains on it. I let my lion form flow over me. My arm
felt like it was being pulled apart. Shifting doesn’t hurt unless
we are injured and injured badly.