Áine would've howled herself hoarse until Lyssa lost her voice if not for the strong arms that gathered her. As her mother muttered comforting words, she managed a weak tail wag and clung to Mum. The fragrance of lavender and linseed oil washed fears away. A warm blanket enveloped her. Mum's presence doubled as a shield, assuring her nothing terrible would get through.

"Shhhh. Leon called. I told him we will not be going." Mum held her tighter. "None of the seraphim have to do this. The second and third chairs can use the practice."

Áine, rather Lyssa, held Mum as if she were a lifebuoy preventing them from drowning.

That was until urgent footsteps invaded the garden.

"Your friends are here," Mum said, stating the obvious.

Reinforcements arrived—a huge brown bear, a snow leopard, a saber tooth, and a lioness—to protect her. Surrounded by them, even he couldn't reach her.

"I'll talk to him later. You don't worry 'bout a thing, June bug," her mum promised.

A panting female burst into the garden and held her knees to catch her breath. Her light footfalls came closer. "Sorry... l-l-late. Áine...Lyssa—"

Lyssa snarled to ward Nessa off.

For now, Áine couldn't bear anyone but her mum's touch.

"Ly, um, you're hurting Josephine."

Lyssa stiffened. A sickening stench filled her nose. Her claws had dug into her mother's flesh. It took every ounce of self-restraint she had not to throw up. She hated that coppery smell.

"I'm fine." Mum insisted.

"Áine, let go of Lyssa." Mara, hidden in the hybrid form of a female torso covered in a fawn pelt and a lioness' head, commanded.

Though safe, Áine didn't want to emerge now when her Lycan allowed her to control her.

"Nessa!" Sasha growled. "Get away from Lys—"

"Shut up, you bully," Nessa responded, with her trademarked gentle equilibrium as she ignored the towering grizzly blocking her way.

"An accidental swipe and you're dead." Sasha sat on her haunches and stroked Lyssa's fur with a clawed paw. "Babe, we're here. If anyone comes for you, they'll have to go through us." She meant it.

Hera's low roar echoed that sentiment.

"Sorry," Áine sobbed. Yet her bones threatened to break as she released her mum.

Mum kissed her forehead. "Tch. It's a scratch."

"Jo's old and needs longer to heal. So no, it's a lot worse than a scratch." Zahra, a beautiful snow leopard, drawled, "Are you done? If you still need a hug, I can take it."

Mara grunted, but Lyssa grasped her meaning as if she'd used words. "Nessa, go clean Aunty Jo's wounds. We'll stay with Lyssa."

'Better?' Hera asked.

When she nodded, her beast spit her out. Lyssa disliked Áine commandeering her form.

Sasha tossed a towel over Áine's naked body. She huddled in it, shuddering and fighting the dizzy spell. The sudden transformation had left her disoriented.

The beasts waited. Along with Nessa and Helen, whose absence didn't rankle, these four had known her since she was seven and had seen her at her worst.

They needn't have stayed, not when her panic attacks had caused them all injuries. But they hadn't ever reported her loss of control. Over the years, they'd become a pack of sorts and their presence calmed her down.

Sasha rubbed circles on Áine's back. But if she lashed out, as she had in the past, the bearoid would toss her on her stomach and hold her in a headlock in a flash.

Zahra's white fur glistened as she rolled to expose her belly to the sun while Hera sat licking her chops.

"Who?" Zahra demanded as her icy blue eyes fell on Mum.

"Yes, who upset you? Give me a name. Nathaniel will—" Nessa, the only Were, stood by the open doors and ran her finger across her neck.

"Do we need your brother to do our killing, dear resident damsel in distress? What are we? Chopped liver?" Hera snarled, outraged by the offer.

Unflappable as ever, Nessa giggled. "Well, no, but if he did the deed, he won't end up in the gallows of Hellridge. Nat won't get caught. You lot will wear the pelts of your kills and strut around in the Colosseum. Jo's right. Your pride will be your downfall."

"Ah, well, that's true." Hera, a sabre tooth, yawned, exposing Orc's fangs. That feature earned her the name 'Vamp' in certain circles. But then it could be her penchant for red lipsticks, pale skin, and harsh beauty.

Old World shifters' chimeric beasts could speak. New World beings, that turned into animals found in nature, like Helen and Zahra, couldn't, beyond mimicking a few words.

Their signature spoors, and intimidating presence, by osmosis, made Áine rally. The panic flooding her veins receded.

After a while, she mumbled, "I have to go."

"Buckle up, Annie orphan. Whatever it is, chin up," Hera said, and winked.

Sasha helped Áine to her feet.

Nessa hovered with her hand by Áine's elbow but not making contact. "Drinks tonight?" she asked.

She sounded so hopeful, Áine couldn't deny her oldest friend. Nessa was nice; pushy, but ever so polite, and she fussed over them like a mother hen. The others told her off, but Áine couldn't; it was like kicking a helpless pup.

"My place, not Nosh," Nessa added.

"Sure," Áine replied.

"Yes, we're coming too. Why would we say no to free alcohol? But get food from Nosh. You're a shit cook," Sasha ordered, and she kissed the top of Áine's head.

Zahra and Hera rubbed their feline faces against hers.

Mara's unwavering gaze that bore holes in Áine's face told her to get it together.

When she dragged herself inside, her mum, sitting at the dining table, watched her. The sting of spirit and sulfur of antibiotic cream caused Áine to suffer guilt pangs. She rested her chin on her mother's head. "Should I call Doctor Eriksone?" she asked, ashamed of herself.

"For this nick? I am not made of glass. Or old... The arrogance of youth takes my breath away. Sasha, I will have Mara and you know I am in the prime of my life." Mum said, rather miffed. "You. Go bathe." She shooed Áine away. "And you all... out. I meant it after the last sleepover. No more get-togethers in my house."

Low grumbles and grunts accompanied her friends leaving. They daren't mess with Mum.

With her sanity restored, Áine retreated to her room and shut the door behind her.

She couldn't tolerate a soul around her after the episodes. Even the presence of those who pulled her back from the brink became oppressive. She dealt with the fallout alone and they accepted that.

"Play Phantom of the Opera. Prague Cello Quartet," she said.

'You funny...' Lyssa snickered.

Dramatic music flowed out of the speakers. She made her way to the bathroom. After a hot shower, wrapped in a towel, she fell on her bed.

Despite scrubbing herself raw, she couldn't wash off the bitter hatred wafting from her. It's been three years since she has slipped up. Before that, for a decade, nightly terror rendered her helpless. Locked in her body, she often ended up imprisoned in the same old nightmare. Worse, the scent of blood had triggered the panic attacks.

Rage filled her up. She had to rid herself of the irrational need to lash out. Áine sat up and cupped her aching head in her hands. It began with a sob and turned into a deluge of tears that flowed until she was darned dry.

With her anger spent, rather dampened by the overflowing eyes, she fell back on the mattress. Exhausted, Áine enjoyed the luxury of the soothing numbness.

Then she proceeded on her chosen course of action.

Not all monsters looked the part. Some disguised themselves as saviors with benevolent smiles and grand words. Their hands were clean, but they spilled blood with impunity. And caused untold deaths and destruction. They were far more dangerous.

Now she had to challenge one.

'Why?' Lyssa asked. 'You're not thinking straight.'

Except she was. Finally she'd figured it out...

Sorry! I forgot the order of chapters. Please read The Aftermath & The It Girl BEFORE The Blind Gambit.