Alley Cat
He's a Sand Cat

I wake up in a small apartment bedroom. My arm is hooked to a trickling blood bag, propped up by a metal stand. Tight bandages and gauze restrict my movements as I struggle to sit up. I’m too tired to panic. My blurry gaze scours the room for clues and when I see a small black and white picture frame of Raphael’s mother on an office table, I relax.

I lie in bed and stare at the popcorn ceiling and wonder to myself. I’m alive. Why the hell am I still alive?

The door opens to let Raphel in the bedroom, and I see that he’s munching on two glazed donuts in each hand. The sickly smell of sugary sweetness upsets my stomach, causing me to dry heave on myself. As if to make the matters worse, Raphael begins to sing. His soulful voice swings in a southern choir style as the lyrics of ‘You Are My Sunshine’ decorate the atmosphere. I develop a sudden urge to throw a pillow at him.

“You are my sunshine. My only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray.”

I groan. It sounds like a dying man’s last breath, but it fails to deter him in the slightest way. Raphael waltzes over to my bedside and continues to sing. I’m so dizzy that I can’t move, so I endure Raphael’s musical torture to the end. Raphael ends the song in a glorious vocal riff that would make angels cry and me, die (again).

“For the love of God, please shut up.” I murmur as I bang my head against a pile of throw pillows.

Raphael chuckles to himself before taking another bite of his glazed donut. Flecks of glaze crust his brown lips and he sweeps his tongue all along his mouth. I suppress the urge to vomit. “Wow. Shirisha was right. You really aren’t a morning person.”

“Well I’m sorry.” I realize how grouchy I sound, but I don’t care enough to change it. “I just got shot and nearly bled to death. Sue me if I don’t feel like singing church music.”

Raphael’s expression softens. At some point in my long lives, Raphael’s sympathy would have diluted my bitterness to make my suffering more bearable like adding creamer to coffee. But then I remember that coffee tastes like fragrant battery acid and the creamer is just a mask to cover up the poison I will consume. Everything but my pain is a lie.

The green tourniquet tightly wrapped on Raphael’s arm seized my focus. It doesn’t take me long to figure out where the blood bag came from, and I feel an upcoming wave of remorse coming my way. “This is your blood.”

Raphael tries to hide his smile by shoving the rest of his donuts into his mouth. Flecks of glaze fall on the bed covers, which I’m sure will attract ants that will mistake my flesh for sugar. “Turns out we have the same blood type.”

“I see,” I say numbly.

“O-negative.”

“Universal giver.” I feel myself slumping further underneath the sheets. Exhaustion pulls me under, but Raphael refuses to let me sleep.

“Says a lot about us.” Raphael sucks on each individual finger. It creates an obnoxious popping sound that drives me nuts.

“Leave me alone, Raphael.”

He doesn’t. He stays mute for a while and rests his head on the mattress while the rest of him kneels on the floor. I’m grateful for the brief moment of silence until Raphael breaks the peace again by grumbling, “I’m sorry your boyfriend and his family ended up being a bunch of werewolf criminals.”

“Raphael! For the love of God! Can we not talk about that?”

I roughly pull the sheets over my head with the same arm that’s hooked to the blood bag and the motion nearly causes the needle to rip out of my vein. I yelp and jerk so badly that Raphael jumps into action and strictly tells me not to move. My body freezes as Raphael carefully removes the medical tape to reposition the needle and reseals it. By the time he finishes, the sheets look like a crime scene.

“Where did you learn how to do that?” I ask quietly.

Raphael huffs with pride and says, “In my last life, I was a trauma nurse in Chicago. I seen all kinds of nasty shit that you wouldn’t believe. The smell of blood ain’t nothing to me.”

Before I could muster up the right words to convey my admiration, Raphael curls his fingers and flicks my nose. My hand flies over my face as a mild sting radiates across the tip of my nose.

“OW! WHAT THE FUCK?”

Raphael flicks my nose again, and I bawl my fist to punch him. Raphael gives me a daring look that invites me to hit him, but I don’t.

“The first flick was because you said God’s name in vain. The second one was because you wasted at least two ounces of my blood. I can’t just pump out some more whenever I want, you know.”

I see Raphael curl his fingers again to flick my nose, so I hover my balled fist. Raphael sighs and withdraws. His tone drips in sweet nostalgia. “You used to laugh whenever I flicked your nose.”

Raphael’s countenance clouds with disappointment, causing me to do the same. “That was fifty-five years ago,” I say darkly. “We’ve both changed a lot since then, Raph.”

“I know.” Raphael nods in agreement. “I also know that I’m not the same guy you fell in love with but right now I’m trying really hard to bring him back for you. You’re lonely, Hel.” Raphael’s voice cracks under the weight of overwhelming emotion. And for the first time in a long while, someone has empathized with me. Raphael understands how I feel. “You’re becoming bitter.”

I stare back at him hard, trying not to let my emotions show. But like an overfilled dam after a heavy storm, all hell breaks loose. I’m tired of constantly being abandoned and deceived. I hate feeling stupid afterwards when I realize I’m wrong. I’m done with loving people who will hurt me.

I cry bitterly and unapologetically. Raphael climbs into bed with me, and we hold each other for an hour or so. As serious as Raphael could be at times, he makes for a good cuddle buddy. He’s always prepared when it comes to emergencies. People could always rely on him for snacks, for medical aid, and emotional support. Raphael remains mute while occasionally passing me tissues. When we’re down to the last final three, Raphael warns me.

“We’re almost out. You have to stop crying eventually.”

I look down at the empty tissue box in my hands. A surge of uncontrollable anger overtakes me and I glare at Raphael, grumbling, “Shut up.”

Raphael recoils and scoffs indignantly. “Is that how you would talk to the person that saved your life?”

“I never asked you to save me!” I reach over to the needle hooked in my arm, but Raphael rushes in to stop me.

“Helene. Don’t.”

But it’s too late. I’m so overwhelmed with emotion that I can’t think clearly. I can only focus on the pain. So much pain. I want to scream and yell at everyone who dares to look at me. “I never asked for your blood either!”

“Helene? You need to calm down.”

Raphael’s dark brown skin becomes washed out from both blood loss and fear, but I’m blind to it all.

“Don’t tell me to calm down!”

“Okay,” Raphael says gently. “Then don’t.”

We stare at each other for what seems like an intense eternity. Our chests heave with laborious movements as our hearts pump anxiously from within. Raphael’s blood courses through my veins, sustaining me with life, and I hate it. “At least promise me one thing.”

“I’m done with making promises for other people.” I sound so vicious that I don’t recognize myself.

Raphael goes through with his proposal anyway despite my objection. “Please don’t let yourself become bitter. I know things have been hard. I know you’re in a lot of pain. Don’t you think it hurts me that I can’t help you? I don’t like seeing you like this!”

“You abandoned me. Everyone always leaves me!” I pound on my chest so hard that I could crack a rib.

Raphael winces and says, “I know. And I’m sorry for what I did. Shirisha is sorry for what she did. And if I could do it all all over again, I would have chosen differently. I would have come back to you. And—And we would have gotten married like we planned to and start a family. We would have had three kids just like you wanted.”

My head feels like it’s going to burst. I pound at my skull and scream, “Stop! Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP!”

Raphael carefully arrests my wrists and lowers them down to my sides. His voice remains startling calm and leveled. “And we could have grown old and died together like in the movies.”

“Please. Stop. If you care about me, stop.” I’m crying so hard that I can’t breathe. The pain I feel can’t be sourced. I feel it in my bones, my bullet wounds, my head… My heart is a gaping hole in my chest that can’t be filled. No matter how much I throw in there, the hole destroys everything that comes near it. I’m empty.

Raphael lays me down in bed, and we lie next to each other like we used to. He holds me close to his chest as I face away. His warmth spreads all over my back and his arms hold me securely in place. Slowly, I come down from my high. My thoughts clear up like mist lifting from a foggy day. My tears dry up as well.

Raphael draws his mouth closer to my ears and whispers, “It would have been so lovely, Helene. But you and I both know that it could never have ended that way.”

I don’t say anything, but Raphael understands that I’m still listening. I’m listening more attentively than I ever have before. I grasp on to each word desperately, believing that the words can save me.

“People like us are blessed. We have lived and learned and suffered over lifetimes. Each time we bring greater and greater wisdom to the world we live in.” Raphael stops to laugh at himself for a bit. It’s a bittersweet laugh that sends chills down my spine. “You don’t believe me, Hel. I know you don’t. I know that I haven’t lived long enough to suffer what you have suffered and seen what you have seen. But I’ve seen enough, Hel. Enough to know that the best things are worth fighting for. The pain is worth the cost of what awaits you. You are meant to be happy, Hel. The happiness you’ve been looking for has been inside you the whole time.”

“I can’t find it.”

I find myself growing frustrated. All I see within myself is darkness and more darkness. The further I look, the more I feel alone. And in an attempt to prevent myself from self-destruction, I unknowingly dive into the dumpster fire known as self-sabotage.

I roll over in bed so that I face Raphael; it takes him by surprise. His eyes widen at my boldness and when he sees the voracious lust in my eyes, he reciprocates. He kisses me hard, taking my mouth in his. Raphael lacks Luka’s discipline but has Shirisha’s virility. His hands run down my body, stopping at my bandaged thigh. The reminder of my injury snaps him back to his sober self, but I pull him back to me once more.

“Aren’t you tired of being the good guy?” I say in between kisses. Raphael’s mouth tastes like pure sugar. I can already feel cavities starting to form. Delicious.

Raphael struggles to think, especially when my hand roams further south. I explore his girth and my touch causes a blissful moan to escape his lips. I smirk in satisfaction.

“Helene. You’re legit hooked up to a blood bag.” Raphael’s nervous glance darts to the metal stand next to my bed. But when his eyes roll to the back of his head, I know it’s too late to go back.

His hot breath tickles the delicate skin of my neck, and I shiver. I’m determined not to stop. “I don’t care.”

Raphael writhes on his back, and I harshly whisper to him to keep it down. Things seem to be going well until right before the grand finale, Raphael’s body becomes limp. An exhaustive groan escapes his lungs, and he collapses on top of me. His limp body crushes me under its weight.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mutter to myself as I try to crawl out from under Raphael’s unconscious body. I find it especially difficult to do so without tangling the blood tubes even more than they already are. Although I’m incredibly annoyed and sexually frustrated, I’m forced to acknowledge my fault in this embarrassing predicament. I had forgotten the number one rule of blood transfusions: no engaging in vigorous activities. Unfortunately for me and Raphael, I had no idea that handjobs fell into that category.

It takes me a good fifteen minutes to detangle myself from the tubing and free myself from Raphael’s body. I manage to push him off of me and spend the remainder of my time tucking Raphael in bed. I fluff up his pillows, pull up his underwear and pants (it’s the least I could do to save the rest of his dignity), dust off any glaze flecks I see on the bed, and just make sure he’s comfortable. I ignore the throbbing pain in my thigh as I move around to do so. The peaceful expression on Raphael’s unconscious face serves as a good distraction from my pain.

When I’m done, I bow down to kiss Raphael’s temple and nostalgia stabs me in the chest. I remember that fifty-five years ago, Raphael used to do the same for me. And now, I’ve returned the favor.

Before the memories can draw me in, I force myself to turn away. Hunger claws at my stomach, and I figure that now is the time to go out and eat some breakfast. I limp towards the bedroom door, hopping on my good leg, when I stop by the small picture frame of Raphael’s mother. It’s a black and white photo of a mature black woman frozen in time. Her hair is iron pressed and pulled back into a Sunday bun. Her round dark eyes light up with cheerful delight. And her full lips pry open into a huge authentic smile, revealing two rows of straight glamorous teeth.

I kiss my two fingers and press them against the picture frame. Shutting my eyes, I whisper a prayer under my breath. “Sleep well, Gloria.”

I walk out of the bedroom and make a right turn. The entire apartment is small. The kitchen is only five footsteps from Raphael’s room, and I see Shirisha and Kaya sitting at the kitchen table. They hold half-empty mugs of tea on their laps and face each other as they engage in conversation. They seem healthy and cheerful over all. A few scratches mark their bodies, but they don’t seem to be bothered by their injuries. If I didn’t know better, I would never assume that they had come back from a brawl with werewolves.

Shirisha and Kaya don’t notice my presence, so I continue to look around. I see two unfamiliar faces bustling around the kitchen. One is an African man with a tapered beard. He stands at a four burner stove, frying some eggs in a pan that’s generously laced with oil. He seems to be in his late thirties, has a compact frame to his body, and sports a thick pair of glasses that sit on the top of his high nose bridge. The other stranger is a younger woman in her late twenties. She scoops a hefty quantity of protein powder into the blender as she shouts over the calamity to talk to the man. A pink hijab covers her hair and the rest of her outfit is pleasantly modern and stylish. I can only assume them to be husband and wife from the way they’re bickering over shared responsibilities and annoying relatives; it brings a smile to my face.

I hop over to the kitchen table and take a seat. There’s already a plate for me, so I grab a dry bagel and proceed to dress it with a generous smear of cream cheese. Just as I draw the bagel in to take a bite, Kaya and Shirisha finally notice my existence. I watch as their faces whiten and slowly transition from initial shock, to relief, to vexation.

“Helene!” Kaya and Shirisha say in unison. Their astonishment attracts the attention of the two strangers, and I feel everyone’s eyes on me. It’s an uncomfortable feeling, really. It makes it harder to enjoy my first meal of the day. I take a bite from my bagel and savor the taste. An opened bag of smoked salmon sits across the table, and I accidentally reach for it with my tubed hand. The motion nearly causes the blood bag to fall off the table. I utter a frustrated groan.

Shirisha jumps out of her seat to rush to my side. She holds up my blood bag so that the blood drips down steadily and shoots me with a highly concerned although pissed off glare. “You’re not supposed to be up yet!”

I rebelliously smile back in Shirisha’s face and say, “And yet here I am.”

I reach for my partially eaten bagel, but Shirisha slaps it out of my hand. My heart breaks when the bagel falls to the kitchen floor, separating in halves upon impact.

“My bagel!”

“No eating during blood transfusions!”

“But I’m hungry!” I whine.

Instead of arguing back with me, Shirisha looks around the kitchen, searching for someone. “Why the hell did Raphael let her out of bed? Especially without crutches! You’re going to bleed through your bandages if you sit like that! Get. Up!”

Shirisha forces me to stand and helps me balance on one leg. I look to Kaya to observe her reaction and am surprised to see her face washed over with perfect tranquility. She takes a graceful sip of her tea and inhales the steam wafting from her mug. Kaya is perfectly unbothered and even looks up from her mug to greet me with her eyes.

“Shirisha, you really need to stop making such a fuss. Helene’s a very strong kitty.”

Despite her encouraging words, there’s a haughty edge to Kaya’s voice that says, But who’s the one that had to save her from a pack of wolves? That’s right. Me.

And I can’t argue with Kaya’s prideful thoughts because it’s true. I owe her and Shirisha for saving my life. But how? The dreadful event took place last night and all I could remember was how Kaya and Shirisha came from seemingly nowhere to save me in my time of need. Where did they even come from? How did they find me? And why was Raphael with them?

But instead of asking the important questions, my mind is still set on hunger. “Kaya’s right. I feel fine. Can I eat now?”

“The only thing you’re going to be eating are painkillers and antibiotics!” Shirisha is seething. Her thoughts pour out all at once in a frenzy, and I see her eyes dart all around the kitchen until they land on the two strangers. “Rafik! Maria! Can you pass me the medication?”

Maria and Rafik postpone their bickering and open the cabinets to grab two pill bottles. They surprise me by tossing the bottles across the kitchen which Shirisha manages to catch mid-air. I get a glimpse at the medication label and see that both bottles are branded in bold blue.

Aeternum

The word haunts me, spooking me so badly that I shake. I feel a sharp pain in my shoulder blade where I was shot and wince. “Nuh-uh. No way. I’m not taking anything made by them.”

Maria flashes me a reassuring look and cooes sweetly. “Aw...don’t worry. We already checked. It’s legit.”

I switch my attention over to Maria and Rafik. My cautious gaze makes them self-conscious, causing them to shuffle closer to each other for comfort. A sting of guilt lashes at me when I realize that I’ve intimidated them.

“I’m sorry. You guys have been here the whole time and I never bothered to ask. Who are you?”

The couple buzzes from excitement. I can see their bodies vibrating. It’s like they have so much energy that their human frames can’t contain it all. “Ooh! Uh...I’m Maria.” Maria fumbles with her pink hijab nervously before pulling her husband closer to her. “And this is my husband, Rafik.”

Rafik awkwardly waves at me from the stove, and I wave back. “We’re Raphael’s foster parents.”

My gaze drops down at my bandaged chest and Maria jumps in before I could ask. “We helped to bandage you up. N–Not that it’s a big deal. I mean you getting shot was a big deal but us helping you isn’t!”

“Oh! Uh, thank you.” I find myself stuttering as well. Without knowing what else to say to my wonderful hosts, I turn to Shirisha and ask. “Do they…”

“We...We are werecats like you!” This time it’s Rafik that takes over. “But very small.” Rafik pinches his fingers close to convey his point.

“Small?”

Kaya clears her throat which causes all our heads to turn towards her. “What Rafik is trying to say is that he and Maria are minor werecats. Just like you, Helene.”

There’s something slightly condescending in the way Kaya says minor. I scrunch up my nose at the word as Maria proceeds to explain.

“I’m an ocelot and Rafik is––”

“––a sand cat.” Rafik finishes for her. He develops a sudden interest with his toes and keeps his gaze down.

Maria turns her back against everyone else so she can give Rafik a small pep talk. “Honey, you really need to start saying it with pride. You’re a sand cat!” Maria says with enthusiasm.

“I’m a sand cat…” Rafik says weakly.

“Say it louder,” Maria urges him with a commanding tone that emboldens Rafik.

“I’m a sand cat,” Rafik says again, this time with improved confidence.

“You’re a strong and proud sand cat.”

“I’m a strong and proud sand cat!”

“Yeah!”

“YEAH!”

Those who are watching the couple exhibit different reactions. A blush spreads across the highest parts of my cheeks, rushing down my collar bone. Shirisha bites down on her lower lip to withhold a grin. Kaya doesn’t even bother to hide her laughter; she giggles into her hand. When Maria and Rafik’s peptalk comes to an end, I come to a quick but certain conclusion that Maria and Rafik are pure souls that need to be protected at all costs.

“Sorry.” Rafik laughs my way and awkwardly scratches the back of his head with an anxious hand. “Maria works in pediatrics. Affirmations are a daily thing for us.”

“It’s just that...we’re so excited to finally meet other werecats! Usually, minor cats like us have completely assimilated into the human world, so we’re usually far away from all the action. That’s why when Raphael called and said he was bringing some friends over, we were more than ready to welcome you to our home! Especially you!”

Maria eyes me like I’m some sort of ancient artifact. “Me?”

She nods. “Raphael says that you can summon fire.”

“Yeah…” My voice rises to a high falsetto at the pressure of my own humility. “It’s sort of a hit or miss though. It comes in handy during emergencies.”

“Well haven’t you ever wondered why you have this ability?” Maria turns to her husband and pleads with him. “Rafik…”

Without having to explicitly ask him, Rafik blatantly declines her request. “No, Maria. The last time I tried it, we ended up with a $1300 plumbing bill. And that’s only because the first three plumbers quit. Our landlord almost kicked us out!”

Maria is about to pout when an idea hits her brain. She runs to the kitchen sink and fills a glass of water, leaving it half full. When she’s done, she brings the glass over to the table and places it in front of Rafik. “Do the trick, Honey! Show them what this little sand cat can do!”

Shirisha, Kaya, and I watch in anticipation while Rafik repeatedly expresses his concerns.

“We’re going to get the floor wet! You know I hate mopping the floor.”

“Please, Baby! Show them the trick!”

“No!”

It’s only when Maria agrees to mop the floor afterwards that Rafik agrees to do the trick. Rafik inhales deeply. His face tenses as he focuses hard on the glass. We all hold our breath with him.

“Wait for it…”

Rafik exhales. Water rises all along the sides of the glass and overflows over the rim. Abundant quantities of water cascades down the glass like waterfalls, rolling along the table’s surface, trickling down to the floor.

“Oh shit.” Shirisha says as she hops away from the pouring water. “Where’s all that extra water coming from?”

Rafik shrugs. His pale yellow eyes cloud over and there’s a far away look to his gaze that suggests he’s recalling a distant memory. “Magic, I guess.”

“And how about you?” I ask Maria. A torrent of cold water splashes all over my feet, but it doesn’t bother me. “What can you do?”

“I’m an empath.” Maria says calmly. “It’s a bit boring.”

“I think you meant, ‘annoying’.” Rafik huffs, and Maria playfully slaps him on the shoulder.

“I can read people’s emotions. Sometimes I can feel them. It’s why I chose to work with sick children. They’re often misunderstood.”

“If that’s true, what am I feeling?” I don’t know why I asked her that, but Maria takes my request seriously. She stares at me intensely. The pupils in her light brown eyes seem to augment and consume me whole.

“You’re lost and confused. You’re disappointed.” Maria pauses, and I see tears well in her eyes. But unlike Rafik’s magic cup, her tears don’t dare flow over. “Everyone you’ve ever loved has hurt you somehow. You are jaded by heartache and yet...there’s something inside you that’s resilient and forever tender. Despite your suffering and your heart ache, you have never closed your heart to love. You see the good in people. You will never stop searching for light even when you’re lost in the dark.”

Maria pulls away. The lack of her powerful presence leaves me room to breathe. I gasp for air. I see a tinge of guilt wrinkle Maria’s gentle face; it makes her feel the need to apologize.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to dig too deep.”

“Don’t be sorry.” I say, wiping my eyes. “I think I really needed to hear that.”

I throw myself into Maria’s arms, and she holds me with a gentle embrace. Everyone else watches with tender awkwardness as water continues to flood the floor. Eventually, Maria and I separate and Kaya points at the floor. I see Todd skitter around the ground, trying to avoid wetting his feet. He leaps onto my good shoulder, perching his body onto me like a fat furry parrot.

“Please tell me there’s an off-switch for your magic.” Kaya dreads as she side-steps away from an approaching wave of water.

Rafik chuckles nervously. “About that...I never figured out how to reverse it. It seems like all I can do is create water. Not make less of it.”

“WHAT’S GOING ON HERE?”

A commanding voice projects from the back of the kitchen. We all search for the source, only to find Raphael marching towards us with his pants barely holding onto his hips. Rafik and Maria look down at their water-soaked shoes, their heads bowed down in shame.

“I pass out for half-an-hour and the whole apartment is flooded! I thought we agreed on not using magic at home!”

Rafik and Maria seemed so embarrassed that I couldn’t help but feel bad for both of them. “It’s not so bad, right? Rafik said this happened before. How did you take care of the problem last time?”

“We called in a witch.” Raphael grumbles angrily.

“Then call her again!” I say, beaming with optimism.

“She lives five hours away.”

“Oh.”

The glass violently shakes on the table as it continues to project a geyser from its rim. Water crawls up to our ankles, picking up and carrying away furniture. It’s a great flood that leaves Raphael in a gloomy disposition and me empowered with inspiration.

“You really need to lighten up, Raphael.” I shout over the commotion, demanding for everyone’s attention. “Alright everyone! Find something to stand on ’cus things are going to get hot and steamy!”

“Helene?” There’s a dangerous edge to Raphael’s tone which makes me laugh. “Don’t.”

I curl my fingers inward and it causes the surface of the flood to bubble. “Watch your toes!”

Raphael pounces onto the kitchen table while everyone else scrambles to climb onto drifting furniture. The entire apartment transforms into a sauna as the flood evaporates into thick steam. The second the floor dries up, Maria and Rafik race around the apartment to open all the windows. The draft allows for the steam to escape. The atmosphere clears, revealing a very vexed Raphael staring back at me.

“Wow!” Maria and Rafik stare at the perfectly dry floor, amazed. Even Kaya seems impressed as well. My magical stunt earns a satisfactory huff from her and a wide-eyed look from Shirisha. The only person I’ve failed to impress is Raphael. His glares at me, his nostrils flared and arms folded. His piercing disposition penetrates my swelling pride, deflating my new found confidence.

“Why do you always disobey me?” Raphael’s voice shakes from uncontrollable anger.

“But–But I took care of the flood!” I sound like a scared child; I immediately loathe myself.

“You could have burned down the entire building and killed all the people here! Are you stupid or have you forgotten that you almost died last night?”

I’m stunned into silence. Guilt slithers its way to my heart and restricts my mind. Raphael’s eyes bore into mine. They reflect a hideous creature which I can only recognize as myself.

“Did you forget that your fire killed a victim yesterday? Luis was the prime witness to our case and you killed him! Who are we supposed to ask now?”

At this point, I’m crying so violently that Shirisha steps in to defend me. “Raphael. That’s enough.”

Shirisha’s command is strict and cold. It summons a chilling silence that suffocates the atmosphere. The only thing that could be heard is humming from the refrigerator. When she’s ready to speak again, Shirisha exhales a quivering sigh. “Mistakes were made on both sides. Kaya and I should never have allowed Helene to investigate the Russos on her own. Helene did what she could to survive. And if we knew that you were so easily riled at the slightest inconvenience, Kaya and I would never have asked you to come with us last night.”

Raphael growls. It’s a feline grow that stems from deep in his throat. “I’m not trying to shame Helene, or make her feel bad, or do anything of the sort! I’m trying to stop her from being so reckless! She plays with her life like it’s indispensable...I don’t want to lose her.”

Right then and there, I realize how selfish I’ve been. I’ve always been afraid that others would abandon me or that I’ll lose somebody to death. But I’ve been wrong. So wrong! I’ve been blind to all the people who love me, who really love me. They’ve been scared of losing me too. I wasn’t the only one that was scared and lonely.

“I’m sorry for being impulsive and reckless.” My apology comes off weak but audible.

Raphael looks around uncomfortably before uttering back, “I’m sorry for being so harsh.”

Our mutual forgiveness lightens the air, making it easier to breathe. Raphael’s hardness makes way for ease and thought. “How about we all sit down and figure out our next move?”

Everyone splits off to retrieve all the chairs scattered around the apartment and together we sit around the table. Once we’re all set, I begin first by telling them everything I learned about the Russos and their wolf stabilizers. It’s a lot of information but I try my best to summarize.

“The restaurant’s just a decoy. The Russos make their fortune by selling Antonio’s drugs. Apparently, they’re purposely turning humans into wolves to test out their new wolf stabilizers.” A quick flashback of Daphne swatting me with a torn wardrobe door makes me jerk, but I steady myself. “They’re still working on the formula. Out of the two Russo siblings, only Luka was taking the medication. Daphne wasn’t.”

Explains why she was able to transform along with the rest of her family. Todd speaks up after a long break, surprising us all. Did you guys see it? They were like Gurrr! And you guys were like ROARRRR! And Helene was like, ‘Eeep! Help me! I’ve been shot!’

I tug on Todd’s tail, and it makes his fur stand up on its ends. Todd hisses. “I do not sound like that.”

“Todd’s right though.” Kaya taps her fingers along the table surface, deep in thought. “Werewolves shouldn’t be able to transform without a full moon.”

“Daphne told me that she and Luka are half-breeds. Maybe they’re an exception to the full moon rule.”

Shirisha shakes her head in disagreement. “That doesn’t make sense. Half-breeds shouldn’t be able to transform. Period.”

“And how would you know that?”

Shirisha looks at me smugly and says, “You’re not the only one who’s lived crazy lives, you know.”

We all sit in silence, pressing Shirisha for more. Shirisha caves in. “Not all werewolves are bad. I met some a few years ago, and they claimed to be half-breeds. Aside from their enhanced strength and speed and hot temper, they lived completely normal human lives.”

“And you’re sure they can’t transform?”

“Definitely. They were killed during the Rwandan Genocide. They couldn’t transform even when their lives depended on it.”

Shirisha’s face darkens and everyone else mimics her expression. I replay my conversation with Daphne in my head and frown at the inconsistency of our facts. “That doesn’t make sense. Mutts are unstable. And Daphne made it perfectly clear that half-breeds were unstable as well. So if what you’re saying is true…”

“That bitch is lying.” A wide smirk grows on Kaya’s face, and she looks up from the table to face us all. “I bet their father bit them. There’s an old werewolf tradition back when interbreeding with humans was common. Wolves would bite their offspring to make them stronger.”

“Isn’t that like werewolf inception?” Rafik blurs out. When all eyes are on him, he shrivels into himself. “Sorry. It’s just a bit weird when you think about it. They’re already half-wolf to begin with and werewolf bites are potent enough to transform a pure human into a wolf. Isn’t that too much?”

“That is too much…” I say to myself. “That’s enough to overwhelm your system. It’s no wonder that Daphne Russo became insane. Now that leads us to the next question: why are they in such a hurry to create the perfect wolf stabilizer? You don’t think it’s just to save the Russo children, right?”

“I think that’s a question we’ll need to save for the wolves.” Kaya gets up to stretch, already tired from sitting for so long. “As werecats, we don’t know the kind of issues the wolves are dealing with. This calls for an investigation. I’ll go back to The Bronx and talk to a couple of my werewolf friends and you guys can be on the lookout.”

“Agreed.” Shirisha stands up as well. “Since the problem has already spread out across NYC, I’ll take Brooklyn. Raphael? You take Manhattan.”

Hey! What about me? Todd pouts and hops off my shoulders. He makes a graceful landing on the floor, confronting Shirisha.

Shirisha bends down on her knees to scratch Todd at his favorite spot behind the ears. “You, my friend, have the most important job of all. Take care of Helene.”

Shirisha kisses Todd on his head. The soft brush of her lips makes Todd tip over, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as an obnoxiously loud purr escapes his throat. It makes me sick.

I love you, Shirisha! Todd says dreamily.

Shirisha smiles back before leaving towards the door with Kaya. I hop after Shirisha on my good leg and shout, “No! Wait! I’m coming too!”

Shirisha turns around instantly. My catches against a chair leg, and I tip towards the floor until Shirisha catches me. I sigh when Shirisha looks down on me. I already know what she’s going to say.

“You need to rest, Helene. And I mean it!”

“Please don’t leave me alone with Raphael!” I beg. It earns a sympathetic look from Shirisha. She holds me for a while, stroking my hair. I nuzzle against the tight spot under her chin. “He’s going to yell at me for everything!”

“You’re going to be fine,” Shirisha says gently. “I’ll come back soon. I’ll always come back for you, Helene.”

Shirisha lets me go, and I stand with my feet planted on the floor as the door closes behind her. A terrible sensation catches at my throat, suffocating me. Even when Raphael helps to walk me to his room, the feeling never goes away.

I lie in Raphael’s bed, and I realize that I’m back to how my day started. The covers are pulled up to my chin. I’m staring at the popcorn ceiling. And Raphael is sitting at his office table, studying away for his upcoming Pre-Cal exam.

I never felt so useless.

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