Nic strained to catch his breath, exhilarated and utterly spent. Mira was a seductress extraordinaire, the hottest, most wonderful girl he’d ever laid eyes on. The sex blew his mind, fast and frantic and uninhibited. The next time, they’d take it leisurely and explore each other with scrupulous regard. He stretched luxuriously, trying to articulate the epiphany of this newfound joy. Until that annoying, nagging little voice intruded.

  “Shit!” he leaped up, scanning the darkened confines.

  Mira huddled as far in the corner as walls would permit. Her face was so distraught, it almost broke his heart. Nic gingerly took a step towards her, hand outstretched.

  “Climb!” she growled. “Quickly!”

  A glimmering halo outlined her form, and he stood transfixed. He still didn’t quite believe these Felid stories. She threw her head back and screamed, one long ear-shattering noise that morphed into the roar of a lioness. Nic didn’t need to be told again, he pivoted for the stairs, grabbing the lip of the pool and vaulting out in a single jump.

  But of course, the decision came too late. A huge paw swatted legs from under him and he crashed to unyielding ceramics, slamming his forehead to see stars. Nic instinctively kicked with all the force he could, success met in a yowl of pain. He was up again before cognition willed it, sprinting the boundary for one of these mysterious ropes and praying he’d not wounded her badly. He blinked madly to clear a trickle of blood.

  The rapid tick, tick of claws on tile answered the plea. He launched airborne, to seize rigging and haul hand-over-hand as fast as he could without risking a look down. A snarl of frustration echoed the bathroom, followed by the accelerating pads of a big cat running. Silence forecast the bound and Nic checked below at the instant Mira’s out-thrust talons pierced his calf. He bellowed, twisting to crash her against the wall, capitalising on the force to gain momentum and slam her again. She wouldn’t shake free, jaw spreading to sink her teeth deep if he gave her the chance. He dug his toe-nail in an eye and she plunged with a howl.

  Clambering the rest of the way, he mounted the thin width of the beam and cautiously turned to coil the ropes. Unfazed, Mira paced underneath calculating alternatives. She made as captivating a cat as she did a girl: a glossy chocolate lioness the likes of which the world had never seen. Her coat was the identical colour of her hair.

  “Here puss, puss, puss,” he taunted.

  She offered a disdainful grumble. Nic massaged the shredded tissue of his leg, which burned like a bitch, but all things considered wasn’t unsalvageable. A few stitches and no worries. The real trick was remaining balanced on this pitiful girder, which made almost as practical a seat as his old BMX. Even more difficult given his state of undress. He had to last until morning, but weariness engulfed him. Inadequate sleep last night compounded the roller-coaster of this ludicrous day.

  A grunt alerted to Mira’s latest strategy. She scrambled up the parallel rope, aiming to jump the gap from on high. Anxiety bloomed, Nic speculating on the likelihood of success. She could easily knock him from this inadequate perch and he was screwed on the ground. What a determined killer! He rose, anticipating the angle of trajectory to best evade her. A sore leg impeded agility and he was no gymnast, the possibility of falling real.

  As it eventuated, the concern was unnecessary: she failed half-way, missing the target to tumble heavily before retreating to lick her injuries. But she didn’t give-up for long. Throughout the long night, Nic defended onslaught after onslaught, until exhausted, he slipped into a doze. He woke to a mid-air flail, plummeting sharply to earth. Everything ached, lying spread-eagled on biting coldness.

  “Come and get me, Mira. I couldn’t be bothered fending you off.”

  “Nic! Are you all right?”

  Her beautiful human visage appeared in his view of the ceiling. It took a moment, before triumph filtered in and he lurched up to hug her tightly.

  “We made it! Mira, we did it!” She disentangled and gently held him at arms length. Her expression was not the expected delight. “What’s wrong?” The only interpretation was dismay.

  “It’s a miracle. Please, forgive me, Nic.” His belly contorted: those words were too similar to Anatoly’s before he was gassed. “You’re angry.”

  He grimaced. “I’m not angry. I’m thrilled.”

  “You will be angry. Very angry. This is for our protection.” She squirted him in the face. Awareness swirled the drain, but not before he caught Mira whisper, “I worried that you wouldn’t fight hard to survive, if I told you the whole truth. And you had to survive, Nic. I couldn’t live with myself otherwise.”

  When Nic finally woke, all the pain was gone. In fact, he’d never felt so robust. He gave his ear a vigorous scratch and enjoyed an ample yawn. He flinched on hearing an odd guttural groan, seeking its source. Was there a cat in here with him?

  “Look at him! He’s magnificent,” Anatoly gushed.

  The Arkady clan rowed at Nic’s front. The bathroom reverberated with a menacing baritone growl. Yes, another infernal cat loitered nearby. Stupid man! Irritating family. Sam joined them, encouraging an attempt to translate why the scene was striped. Bars, Nic was behind bars. He reflexively lashed out, puzzled by the sight of a gigantic white paw. The act was accompanied by a metal-splintering roar and the screech of nails.

  “It’s really him?” Jonathon asked, stunned.

  “You witnessed the change.” Hanna gave his arm an encouraging squeeze. “It is temporary. Once Nicholas has accepted his position, he will master the metamorphosis and achieve it at will. As will Mira.”

  “You need not worry about him Jonathon. The supremacy of Bast reaches a new pinnacle in this couple, they are powerful beyond measure. He will return to his form.”

  Jonathon didn’t appear convinced. “Can you guarantee that?”

  Anatoly’s confidence trembled, a fleeting tic, was it not for the fact Nic noticed everything with crystal keenness. He made a show of licking his teeth, their profile sharper than he remembered.

  “Of course, of course!”

  Sam took a tentative step closer. Nic tilted his head, which seemed bulkier somehow. He perceived a potent mix of soaps and perfumes. The texture of Anatoly’s expensive silk suit resembled coarsest hessian and Mira’s progress from her room thundered, regardless of babbling voices and layered wood and mortar overhead. Sam shuffled forward to warily place his hand on the cage.

  Anatoly gasped, rushing to drag him back. “Not yet, Sam!”

  But Jonathon anchored him by the jacket. “My sons have always shared a special bond. Let’s watch what happens.”

  “He could lose an arm in the blink of an eye.”

  Mira entered, showered and dressed in a simple white shift. Strange gruff rumbles emanated, cut off abruptly when Nic grasped he was their origin.

  “Let Sam alone, dad. Nic is happy to see him.”

  “And you, Mira!” Sam grinned. An astonishingly long tongue slid out and licked his brother’s palm. “Tell him the rest of the legend. It’ll be best coming from you, Mira.”

  “You and I are not the reincarnation of Kafele and Sanura, rather their twin children.” Jonathon cleared his throat awkwardly and Mira laughed. “Yes, Sasha made that same error. We are not directly related. It is not literal, but a symbolic relationship.”

  Sam interrupted, “In modern times, we have lost the skills of hunting and defending against natural predators. Nowadays, humans are the pinnacle danger to wildlife. So, the Felid could not find suitable mates, especially for the men. They stopped changing centuries ago. The original twins were warriors, the most capable and talented of their people.”

  Nic collapsed to the floor with a disgruntled snort. He was hungry, fantasising about a big, fat juicy steak on the raw side.

  “Nothing for you, impatient feline, until you take your human form,” Hanna scolded.

  “You’re going to starve him?” Jonathon asked, clearly alarmed.

  “Offering a little incentive, is all.”


  With a single imperious look, Mira shooed them all out. Nic had lost interest, occupied grooming himself and overjoyed to discover how easy it was to lick his own balls.

  “Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should! Typical male,” Mira muttered. “All the power on earth at your disposal and that’s what you elect to do.”

  Slightly sheepish, Nic plonked his head on crossed paws. She was displeased and he didn’t want that. This state rendered strong emotion futile, unless action was called for: he’d protect his pride with unreserved ferocity, feed, sleep and procreate, those were the imperatives. It provided a tranquil, simple alternative to everything else. She sat cross-legged in front of the bars, gripping them to plead.

  “Come back to me, Nic. Unless you master the change, we shall never be together. You see, I am a creature of the night and you the day. That is how it will remain until both of us take the last step. Do not forget yourself, Nic. You are a man, not a beast.” This speech signified something, but he couldn’t quite fathom the message.

  “It probably doesn’t mean much to you right now, but it’s important not to forget the sacrifice Kafele and Sanura made to protect us from the full force of the Bast curse. Their village sprung up around a limitless oasis, traders came and went. Some remained, basking in prosperity. The lovers had many healthy children and blessed their good fortune every day. Until their first born twins’ coming-of-age, when trouble began.

  “Farm animals were ripped apart, children started to disappear and no-one felt safe. From out of the desert rode an emissary from the Temple of Bast. It was the old Priestess’ acolyte and her news chilled their bones. She told them they’d been cursed by the original Priestess, who had recently died. Every one of their children would change on reaching eighteen. Kafele and Sanura begged, offering their own lives in exchange. And so, a bargain was struck and blood spilled on the Temple altar where it had all began, two lives sacrificed in good faith to give their offspring a fighting hope. For only the original Priestess could fully undo what had been done.”

  She reached through and scratched his nose, running her hand around his ears. He rubbed his head against her touch. “Only the strongest and brightest would suffer and if they failed the test, then Bast would have her way. Do not fail this test, Nic.”

  Mira stood to admire him, lifting her dress over her head. It fluttered to the floor, revealing her bare glory. “A white lion. You are truly magical, Nicholas. I am your incentive. I’ll be waiting upstairs when you’re ready.”

  Nic had never failed a test in his life. He wasn’t about to start now.

  ###

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