I froze immediately when I saw the lion prowling across the sidewalk in front of Tom’s Pizza. It was definitely a rare sight, if not the most bizarre thing I had ever hoped to come across in the middle of town. I held my breath, admired the golden sheen of the mane, the fur. For the briefest of moments his speckled amber eyes locked with mine- and he vanished.

     I stared, transfixed at where the lion had stood a second ago, when the door to the store behind me squealed open. My friend, Todd, stepped out with a bag in one hand. I recognized him from the corner of my eyes because of the trademark checkered baseball cap he always wore topping his six-foot six-inch height. He clapped a hand on my shoulder and said, “Hey, sorry it took so long. They had to check in the back for more of the lavender hand-wash you like.” He paused and waved a hand to my eyes. “Hello, Liam? You okay?”

    “Oh. Yeah, I’m okay. I just spaced out for a bit.”

    “You sure? I know how things have been pretty rough lately.” He handed me the bag and we started walking. “Have you been checking the newspaper ads for jobs? I saw one today for that sub shop on Birch Street.”

     I sighed. “Not yet. I’m not in a hurry. Thanks for buying that little bit for me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

    Todd grinned and reached into his jeans pocket. “No problem. Want me to drive you home? My car’s coming up on the right.” His keys rattled as he fished them out.

     “No, I’m good. I can walk from here.” 

    “Okay then.” He unlocked the car door. “See ya later.”

    “You have a goodnight.” I waved him off hastily and broke into a brisk walk. The rural Pennsylvania town was quite eerie on a starless night. There was hardly anyone out now, and the quiet ambiance put me on edge like the still silence before a predator strikes.

    Usually I wouldn’t have declined Todd’s offer. Although I lived in an apartment on the border of town, I was lazy and carpooled with him a lot, especially since my car was at the shop getting repaired after a sudden accident involving trees and drunken teens.

     Right now I had to find that lion. He had given me a warning and I wasn’t too comfortable with it. As far as I knew I wasn’t infringing on any pride’s territory. 

  I breathed in and searched for the lion’s scent. Nothing. How could a scent just disappear like that so quickly? Chances of finding him without a scent were very slim. The best option now: go home.

    I began to jog when I passed an alley. If my memory was correct, then this was the one I took a shortcut through some time ago. Retracing my steps, I slipped into it and proceeded slowly. My night vision was six times superior to a human’s. It would be such a pain if I didn’t know where I was stepping at night. I honestly couldn’t fathom how they put up with it.

    A scream pierced through the silence. It came from a distance in front of me. Soon I recognized the fresh, coppery reek of blood. Something was happening right near me. Something not good.

    If I turned around now and ran there was a good possibility I’d make it home safe and unharmed. I should really mind my own business and go back, but an unbearable curiosity gripped my imagination and I kept moving forward. There had to be a time when curiosity didn’t kill the cat, right?

    The bloods stench grew stronger and I heard yelling, panicked shouting. Here I go, I thought. Into the fray.

    The next minute brought me to the rear of the alley which extended into a small paved area. Two dumpsters sat adjacent to each other, and behind them stretched a rusted wire fence. In the center of this were three men-or what seemed to be men- standing in a semicircle, all dressed in thin maroon robes. As I edged closer and peered from behind the corner I noticed that all of them were clutching handguns tightly.

    Dammit, what the hell was I getting myself into to?

    They shuffled their feet and I got the chance to see what they were looming over.

      A woman. A small, delicate woman clothed in what I can only describe as rags. Her long obsidian hair cascaded to her hips, and her eyes were such a vivid purple that without a second glance they seemed black. She was cornered, back pressed against the fence, eyes searching frantically for a way to escape.

    One of the men spoke bitterly, “I should just shoot you in the head, witch.” He directed his gun at the woman. She narrowed her eyes and emitted a low, menacing growl from the bottom of her throat.

    “No.” The man beside him raised a hand. “We weren’t ordered to kill her. We can wound her but we can’t kill her. I see it as more fun this way.” He grinned and moved near the woman, revealing his pistol from inside a sleeve.

      I should’ve left right then and there. I should’ve turned around and gone home. If I’d listened to my gut I wouldn’t be in this mess. But I learned already that you can’t change the past, and in that instant I really screwed up my future.

    Swallowing my fear, I jumped out behind the guy to the far right, hoisted my arm over my head, and slammed the shopping bag hard into the back of his skull. He staggered a couple steps, completely stunned from the sudden assault. As he crashed against the asphalt the other men realized my interference. I took that single split-second and bolted to the woman, scooped her into my arms, and shot onto the road like a maniac.

    “What the hell are you doing?” She yelled right in my ear.

     I continued running and replied between breaths, “Saving your ass.”

    Her face twisted in disgust. “You moron! I had them right where I wanted!”

    “They were gonna shoot you! Didn’t you see their guns?”

    There was anger in her voice. “Moron!” She rammed an elbow into my ribs, pulled free, and fell onto the sidewalk. I offered her a hand, but she smacked it away.

    “What’s wrong with you?” I asked.

     The woman stood up and glared furiously at me. “You can’t just run from them. You have to take them out so they don’t chase you.” Her raven hair was wild, whipping in every direction. From this distance I could examine her closely, and that’s when I noticed the long bleeding gash on her left arm.

     Before I could make a remark I heard a bullet flying toward her and moved my body as a shield. I ground my teeth as the bullet buried into my shoulder and emitted a surge of pain throughout my whole left arm. Fortunately, I was intoxicated with a surge of adrenaline and I quickly dismissed the pain altogether.

    The group of men was quickly advancing to us. I glanced at the woman. She was moving her pale scarlet lips, speaking softly. “Three…four. Good. There are four of them now.” She walked in front of me and inhaled deeply.

    I opened my mouth to talk but winced as a throbbing pain bloomed where the bullet hit. Where did all that adrenaline go?

     She turned to me and barked, “Stay right there! Don’t move at all.”

    “Whatever floats your boat,” I replied harshly, biting my lower lip. The air around us started to become hot and dry. She curled her hands into fists and like some sci-fi movie, four blazing violet flames instantaneously leaped onto the men. They screamed in terror as the fire ensnared their bodies, a roaring beast cracking and snapping like a thousand whips.

    Their cries drowned out and at last faded; nothing was left of the four men but a small heap of ashes. Warily I jogged to the dying embers and inspected where the hooligans had fallen. To my dismay there were no bones, no teeth, no clothes.

    Nothing.


 ************************************************************************

 
    She seemed so peaceful, lying there with her mouth wide open. I'd rubbed alcohol on her wound then wrapped her injured arm in a towel and wound duct tape around it to stop the bleeding. Her chest gently heaved, hands clutching the corners of the blanket as if they were the only thing keeping the warmth inside her.

    After the incident earlier she had collapsed. I really had no idea what the hell to do at first. I thought about leaving her, but what good would that have done? For all I know, there may be a bunch of those weird-ass guys still lurking about somewhere. Then I was going to take her to the hospital, but how would I explain that awful wound on her arm? Oh, that? She just fell down the stairs.

    So after much internal debate, I picked her up, literally sprinted to my apartment, and set her down on the couch. Surely there was nothing odd about that. If the neighbors asked, I'd say my girlfriend had too much to drink.

Ah, the word girlfriend. How long had it been since I even conversed with a girl?

    I settled into the red recliner and exhaled. The past hour or so played through my mind in choppy scenes, specifically when I carried the woman to my apartment. No one saw. No one saw anything, right? That had to be true. It was the middle of the night. There's nobody awake in the middle of the night.

     The bullet in my shoulder had ceased hurting, although the surrounding area was a tad tender. I silently walked to the bathroom and carefully shrugged my shirt off and threw it into the wicker laundry basket.

This might sting a little.

I poured some hydrogen peroxide on my shoulder and damn, did it burn! It burned for a third of a second. Then I tensed all my muscles and relaxed. I flexed my right hand. The forefinger and thumb buried into the small fleshy hole, seized the bullet, and flung the motherfucker into the trash. I watched the wound in the mirror. The tissue, muscle, and flesh wove and knit together until the hole was non-existent.

I splashed some warm water on my face and examined myself further in the mirror. The powder-blue eyes had dark lines underneath them and my sandy-blonde hair was slick with sweat. Everything else seemed OK, and oh, nice tan. The hair was really bothering me, though. Note to self: Take shower very soon!

I felt my shoulder and the cool touch of my hand was soothing. I got my black robe from the bedroom and shrugged it on, then quietly made my way to the couch that the woman was on.

    She moaned, eyes fluttered open, and lurched forward like a drowned person emerging from the water. I remained still, watched her turn her head and survey my apartment. I was ashamed of the mess it was: used plates were piled on the coffee-table in the living room and the kitchen counters, two dirty laundry baskets filled to the brim, the floor around them scattered with missed clothes sat by the couch, and a roll of ripped toilet-paper stretched across the unkempt carpet. Cheshire, a pudgy orange tabby, waddled next to my feet and purred.

     "How are you feeling?" I asked casually, hands stuffed in the huge robe pockets.

    Her hand slid up her arm and rubbed the towel. "This-where is this?"

    "My place. You, I don't know, fainted I guess. I brought you here. It's been about an hour since." I settled onto the recliner next to the couch.

    "Why did you take me here?" Her voice trembled with fury and confusion. "You don't even know who I am! You're the one who interfered!"

     I stifled a laugh and grinned. I probably saved this woman's life and all she cares about is that we're strangers? "Then let's get to introductions." Cheshire bounded onto my lap. I continued, "Hello, I'm Liam. This kitty here is Cheshire. What's your name?"
    
    "My name?" she curled a strand of hair around a finger. "It's Jaz."

    "Well hello, Jaz. I don't mean to be nosy, but what in the world was going on out there? Those guys had guns, and you-I don't know what the hell you did-but you killed them. And what's with your clothes? I don't think you'd normally wear a shredded up dress to go out at night."

     Jaz's body stiffened “It’s none of your business.”

    “It is too my business! I saved your ass, so tell me what the hell all that was!” I took a breath and pouted my lip. “Please?”

    Her gaze locked hesitantly with mine. "Do you really wanna know?"

     "Yeah.”
    
    She licked her dry lips and a sort of wariness flashed across her features. "Alright, I’ll tell you what happened. But be prepared, you're already involved since you interfered. Your life became a target the moment you chose to help me. I really shouldn’t tell you this, since you’re a mortal, but you might end up dying so there’s no reason to keep it from you… the person who sa--helped me.”
    
     I crossed my ankles and said, "Wow. That sounded ominous. What are you? Like are you in a secret government organization? Oh, and what did you do to those guys? That was some crazy shit!"

    Her expression was unyielding. "In the first place, I'm not from this world. Secondly, I am in a sort of organization. It's not governmental, though. It's more like a rebellion."

    "So you're not any of the paranormal creatures from here, huh?" On Earth, there was the existence of what was known as the paranormal. The majority is commonly referred to as Lyrianthropes or Lyras. You know werewolves? There's a whole variety of creatures like them, half-human beasts. Wereleopards, weretigers, werelions, werecoyotes, and the list goes on. There are also zombies and witches.

    Jaz ran her fingers through those silky obsidian locks and replied, “I’m a Shayd, or as you probably know - a demon. I’m from a parallele world called Hael. The humans here seem to always call it the ‘Underworld’ or ‘Hell’ for some reason.”

     I asked teasingly, “Shouldn’t you be more terrifying if you’re a demon? You know, have horns and bat-like wings?”

    “Very funny, Luigi.”
    

     “Liam.”

     She scoffed and gave me the harshest pissed-off look I’d ever received. “Do you wanna know what happened to me or not? Cuz I’ll just leave if you don’t.”

    “No! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” I responded earnestly. “Please go on.”

    She sighed. “Anyway, as I said, I’m not from here. I managed to open a portal at the last second and come to where you found me. Unfortunately, those officers back there entered the portal before it closed.”

     I furrowed my brows. “What were those guys?”

    “Let me go back a little further. I belong to the Revolutionary Insurgent Party, or RIP. We’re a small group of Shayds determined to overthrow the current Tempest government.”

    My mouth gaped open. “Wait, wait, wait! You’re trying to overthrow your government? That’s a huge thing! That’s a rebellion.”

    “Yeah.” Jaz’s face turned solemn. “The government operates on a parallel level to the Shayd monarchy. They have all the money and land and don’t give a shit about the citizens. For the last twenty years the world’s been in a deep state of poverty and dissatisfaction. Only those born into rich families can be rich and have well-paying jobs. If you’re born into a poor family, you’re bound to be poor.” She shuddered and tightened the muscles in her arms. “I was gonna change that-I still am. I had the chance and I blew it. See, I’m a multiple element demon. I can control more than one type of aura, unlike most Shayds that can’t even do it or have one. That’s how I killed those guys earlier.”

     “You’re amazing.” I uttered.

     Jaz stared at her hands as if recalling a faint memory. She muttered, “I’m not amazing. Don’t you get it? I was being chased by those guys because they were police officers and I just broke out of jail the night before my execution date. I attempted to kill the Queen, but something went wrong.” Her voice shook. “I’m a killer, a trained assassin. And you saved me from death.” Her lips quivered and she fell back onto the couch in exhaustion.

     I dashed to her side and slipped the covers over her again. "Hey, are you OK?"

    "I need some sleep." She murmured, and her eyes closed peacefully. I couldn't help but gaze transfixed at her. She certainly was the highlight of my day. Damn, was she gorgeous, too. Otherworldly beautiful. Just my luck to run into an escaped demon prisoner and take her into my home. I probably would've done it even if I knew she was a criminal to begin with.

    I was skeptical to leave her out in the living room unattended, so I arranged a nice little bed composed of blankets and pillows on the floor beside the couch. I couldn't afford to be careless like I usually was. This woman was definitely going to be targeted again. I had resolved to take care of her until her recovery, but then I began to drift into other thoughts.

    Thoughts of the lion-of Jaz-and what it meant.

    The only sound I could hear was of the wind rushing past my ears. All I knew was that I was running through a narrow tunnel, a black nothingness that encompassed everything there was to know. It didn't matter how long I ran, how long I continued, the tunnel never ended. I pressed forward, urged my legs to keep moving. There was something behind me. I couldn't understand but I  knew that if I stopped, the thing behind me would win. I couldn't let that happen. A peculiar inner instinct pushed me forward. I kept going, kept running, but nothing was different. I was surrounded by a complete blackness that saturated every pore of my being. The next step I took had me sliding backwards, and I could distinctly smell the coppery odor of fresh blood, felt its warm stickiness clinging to my feet. I was baffled, stunned at the suddenness of the blood. An eerie laughter echoed in all directions, piercing my ears like the sound of shattering glass. I searched for the source, but instead witnessed three immobile heaps in front of me, maybe bags of flour. The blood on the ground glistened as a moonbeam spilled upon it, and the true forms of the heaps morphed before me. Two of the heaps were lions, the other a young lioness, brutally mutilated. A lump swelled in my throat as I peered over the deceased, noted every mark of violence, every scratch, every bruise. The ground caved in where I was standing, everything fell apart. The bodies and I were swallowed into a black hole; the space that engulfed everything was cracked into a million puzzle pieces. Something grabbed the back of my neck, pierced my flesh, and I screamed.

    Cheshire purred like a motorboat on my chest. I rubbed her chin and looked up at the wall to see the clock. 10:35. A little later than usual, but not bad. My neck and back ached from sleeping on the floor, and it didn't help that my pillow was halfway under the couch. Jaz was still sound asleep. She was so quiet that if you didn't notice the covers rising and falling slowly you'd think she was dead.

      I pushed the blankets to the side and stood with as little motion as possible so that the floor wouldn't creak with the shifting of weight. Holding my breath, I soundlessly maneuvered around the couch, through the hallway, and into my room. After snatching my cell-phone which was on the nightstand next to the bed, I bounced onto the corner of the mattress and dialed the number of my best friend Claire.

    Her voice was like a fresh change of scenery to me. "Hello?"

    "Claire, hey. It's Liam."

    "Oh, hi, Liam. I was actually gonna call you later but you got to it first."

    I smiled. I always smiled when I was on the phone with her. Although she couldn't see me, I still grinned and couldn't help it. Claire had this relaxing, happy quality about her voice that I enjoyed. "Are you busy?"

    There was a pause. "Right now I'm at work, but I'll be done in about an hour.”
    “Why?"

    "Well, something happened last night, and it's really complicated. I need you to do me a favor. Please?"

     "Sure. I'd like to know what happened though."

    My knee was shaking. "I met this girl and she really needed my help, so I helped her and took her to my place, but she's beat up real bad and I need some assistance with her. She was chased by some guys with guns and hasn't woken up yet since she fell asleep last night. Could you maybe bring over some clothes for her please?"

    "Clothes? Like, what kind of clothes? Does she need a shirt or some socks-" She was interrupted as someone yelled something and silverware clanged. "I gotta go. I'll be over after I'm done here. Bye."

    “Bye." I replied dully as she hastily hung up. Damn people and their damn work.

    I set the phone on a pillow and went back to the living room to check on Jaz. To my surprise she was awake and staring at the floor as listlessly as a porcelain doll.

    "Are you OK?" I asked.

    "Food."
    
     "Excuse me?"

     She raised her voice. "Food. I'd like some food."

    "I'll get you some cereal but what do you say when you want something?"

     Jaz rolled her eyes. "I'm not a child."

    "And I'm not your dad! Now just say the magic word!"
    
    She hissed, "May I please have some food?"

     I answered cheerfully, "Sure! Isn't it easy when we're polite?" It really pissed me off when people couldn't be polite and say one little word. I ticked my 10th grade Geometry teacher off a lot when I bitched at him to use better manners. Chuckling to myself, I walked into the kitchen, started the coffee machine, and got a bowl from the cupboard.

    As I was just about to tilt the box of Lucky Charms more so the cereal could pour out, Jaz shouted, "Wait!" In the blink of an eye (I'm serious when I say in the blink of an eye) she'd snatched the box from my hand. "What is this? Are you sure it's not poisoned?"

    "I don't know. Do you think I'd try to kill you after saving your life, inviting you into my house, and letting you stay the night and who knows how much longer?" She lifted the bowl to her face and inspected the inside. I asked, "What are you doing?"

    "This isn't clean."

    "It just came out of the dishwasher."

    She shook her head. "It's still dirty."

    "And?"
    
    "It has to be clean." It was at that remark that she noticed the sink beside the cupboard and was drawn to it like a moth to light. She apparently forgot about my last word and began smothering the bowl with soap.

     I scoffed. "You're seriously cleaning it after it was just washed?"

    Jaz nodded. The hot water was turned as much as it could to the point that a fast trail of steam rose to the ceiling. I watched her turn the bowl under the water and scrub it like she were in a trance for a good seven minutes until she finally dried it with fifty paper-towels. She grinned as if she just won the lottery and I scowled to show my irritation. I slid a chair from under the table and patted it for her to sit in, then took a seat myself. She sat and peered into the box of Lucky Charms. Satisfied, she poured the cereal into her perfectly clean bowl. I handed her the milk and took a sip of my coffee.

    "Do I drink this?"

    "You can, but it's more for your cereal. I'll get you a cu-" I stopped myself. If I got her a cup would she clean it like the bowl? God, I didn't want to waste any more precious minutes cleansing the world of germs. Clearing my throat I continued, "You put the milk in the cereal and when you're done eating the cereal you drink the remaining milk from the bowl. Oh, I forgot to get you a spoon!" Dammit. Please let this be fine. I got a spoon from the silverware drawer and gave it to her.

    "Thanks." Jaz's tone was more subtle now. She didn't complain. Actually, she was a lot calmer. I could see it in her slumped posture and her half-closed eyes. "Aren't you gonna eat, Lex?"

    "I might later. Anyway, I wanna talk with you."

    "Talk with me?"

    "Yeah." I said. "We should get to know each other."
    
    Her lips quivered and she answered slowly, "No."

     "No? Why not?"

    "I don't feel like it yet."
    
    "Maybe just a little bit, then?" I took another sip of my coffee. "Here, I'll start. I'm twenty-four and as of the moment, I'm unemployed."

    The smallest sign of a smile crept into her cheeks as a rosy blush. "You're young."

     "How about you? Wanna tell me your age?"

    Jaz shook her head. "I'm grateful that you found me when you did. If your intrusion hadn't caused so much bewilderment, I'd most likely be back in prison right now counting the minutes to my death."

     I hid an embarrassed grin behind the mug as I gulped the last drops of coffee. "Don't mention it."

     In that instant the buzzer to my apartment sounded. Claire must've arrived, although she was a lot earlier than I had expected. "Just a minute!" I yelled. I said to Jaz, "My friend's here. I'm gonna let her in."

    She wasn't at the table anymore. "Jaz?" I breathed.

    Her voice was shaken with panic. "What was that? Are they here? Are they here? Lex, don't let them in! They’ve caught onto us. We have to get away from here." She was crouched beneath the table with the spoon still in her hand.

    My tone was soft. "It's OK. It's just my friend. You don't need to get all worked up."

    As I turned away she seized the rim of my pant leg and spluttered, "Don't let them in." I gingerly took her hand into mine and squeezed.

    "Everything's fine. If anything happens, I'm here for you."

    She curled both hands around the spoon and uttered, "You better not be lying."  I smiled then went to the door, unlocked it, and pulled inward.

    I apologized briefly before realizing exactly who I was apologizing to. "Sorry for the wait."
     I attempted to slam the door shut, but the person in front of me repelled my strength and smacked me with the door instead. I was knocked to my knees as my body was smashed against the wall. When I regained my composure it was too late. They had already slipped inside.

    "Godammit." I cursed under my breath while racing into the kitchen. I almost tripped over my own feet but came to an abrupt halt beside the sink and surveyed the walls, the floor, everywhere that was closely visible. There wasn’t anyone there.

     I inhaled as deeply as I could through the nose but didn't detect any foreign scent. "Jaz," I began, "Did you see anything come in here?"

     She trembled and made a frightened squeal. I said, "What're you scared of? I saw what you did to those guys last night; you can easily take care of whatever the hell just invaded my apartment."

    "It's not that simple." She looked upward at me so our eyes were diagonal. "I used up most of my energy last night. While I was imprisoned, my energy was sucked dry. It took all I had to store enough to open the dimensional portal to this world, and then the remaining drops were used on those weak as shit guards."

    "You could've mentioned that earlier, but oh well. I'm not as frail as most people. You're makin' it sound like I'm no match for our little intruder, like you don't have any confidence in me." I jokingly sniffled as if my feelings were hurt. "Thanks for the support."

     "Over there!" She pointed directly behind me. I had just enough time to duck as the thing lunged at me from 10 feet in the air. It crashed into the dirty dishes heaped beside the sink and I winced at the sound of my ceramic tableware breaking. The thing crawled from beneath a bowl and into full view. It was no larger than a cat and resembled what I could only say was a dragon. It had no front legs but sported a pair of leathery wings and muscled hind legs. The scales were a lustrous viridian green and its eyes were like golden cat's eyes.

    I cooed, "Here kitty, kitty, kitty." The dragon-whatever-the-hell-it-was twisted its mouth and hissed. I advanced toward it while disregarding the series of snaps and growls it aimed at me. My hands shot out like a striking cobra and snatched the animal around the neck.

    Jaz came beside me and I looked at her quizzically. "The hell is this?"

    "It's a wyvern, a small dragon."

    "What the hell is it doing in my apartment?"

    "I’m guessing that those who intend to recapture me sent it."

    "How sweet of them to send a get-well gift." The wyvern cried as it squirmed fruitlessly in my hold. I was surprised as someone rapped on the door. It had better be Claire this time. "Jaz, can you please answer the door?"

    While she stepped to the door I hurriedly shoved the dragon into the towel closet and went to accompany Jaz. She was waiting beside the doorway. My spirits rose when I saw Claire walking inside while carrying a bag of clothes. She was still dressed in her waitress uniform of a vest and slacks and white dress shirt. She had her wavy blond hair pinned into a bun. Most likely she got some clothes together in that bag when she got home and came here directly after without changing from her work attire. "Hey, Liam."

    "Hey, Claire! Come in, come in. Sit down on the couch." The living room had a glass coffee-table in the center with a couch on one side and two recliners on the other. I sat in one of the chairs and Claire took to the couch. Jaz watched us from where she stood with great interest. "Jaz, you can sit in the chair if you want." I suggested, gesturing to the blue recliner beside me.

    She averted her alluring lavender eyes to the floor, sauntered to the chair, and draped herself across the seat so that her feet barely touched the floor and rested her chin on crossed arms, her long ebony hair sweeping along the chairs side.

    "Is that the girl you mentioned?" Claire asked.

    "Yeah. Her name's Jaz."

    "She's pretty." She remarked and said to Jaz, "Hey, Jaz, I'm Claire, a friend of Liam's." The other woman grinned.

    "She wasn't this quiet earlier." I whispered to Claire.

    Claire stretched her arms over her head and yawned. "So, you gonna tell me how you met?"

    Great. Ask the one thing I was hoping you'd refrain from. How was I gonna tell my best friend that I saved a convicted criminal from being thrown back into jail. Oh, and she's a demon.

    "Demoness." Jaz corrected.

    Yeah, demoness, demon, whatever. I looked at Jaz and raised a brow. "Did you say something?"

    "No."

"Oh."  Now, how am I gonna explain everything to Claire again? Oh, I'll just let it come to me like inspiration magically comes to writers and flow from there. "Anyway, last night I was on my way home when I smelled something odd in a nearby alley. I went and checked it out and found Jaz being surrounded by a group of men with guns. Being the gentleman that I am, I hit one of the guys and in the confusion, took Jaz into my arms and ran like hell, but she insisted I put her down, so I did. The gunmen then caught up but Jaz and I attacked head-on and knocked them all out. Afterward, I took her to my place and here we are." OK, so I mixed in a little lie here and there. It wouldn't hurt anything. That was a lot better than telling Claire the whole truth. I just didn't wanna deal with the mess we would've been in had I not tweaked the story.

    Claire's eyes were bulging with amazement. "Why were gunmen after you, Jaz?"

    Oh, God, I'm screwed! "Why were they after me?" Jaz repeated. "I don’t know. They suddenly attacked me, took all I had at the time, and ruined my clothes. If not for this wonderful gentleman right here I don’t know what would have happened to me."

    "That's just terrible! You poor thing! It's a good thing Liam was at the right place at the right time. He’s always getting into awkward situations. Where do you live?"
    
    It took some time before Jaz answered, "I'm not from around here." She sneezed as soon as she finished speaking and wiped her face on an arm. Her eyes looked different somehow, perhaps more glossy and a tad bit bloodshot.

    “Bless you.” I said customarily.

     Claire was very sympathetic about the 'incident'. "Oh, I see. What are you planning to do now?"

     I intervened, "She was gonna stay at a hotel but since she lost her wallet. I told her she could stay with me until she feels comfortable enough to move on her own."

     "What about the police?"

    I mentally slapped my metaphysical self in the face. Claire was a kind person, but sometimes she just didn't know when to put the brakes on a conversation. I learned to overcome this situation without saying a word, by letting my face crinkle to show my annoyance in full while my eyes begged for her to change the subject like a puppy whining for attention.

     Claire's lips formed an 'O' as she understood my charade. "I got some extra clothes for you, Jaz. I'm sorry that they might not fit all that good. I hope you don't mind."

    Jaz walked to the bag and peered inside. "Thank you."

    "You're welcome. Why don't you go and try them on quick? If they really don't fit, I could give Liam some money for you to go to the mall."

    When she said that, I instantly became depressed. I hate being dependent on others. If I had a steady job I’d be so much happier. "You can go in the bathroom to try the clothes on." I told Jaz. "It's by the kitchen, the door right next to where we put that thing earlier."

    She swung the bag over her shoulder and left. As soon as she shut the bathroom door, Claire scrambled next to me and started speaking in a fast and shaky whisper. "Liam, I need to tell you something. I got the call in the middle of the night and I couldn't believe it was real, but it happened and I have to let you know."

     "What is it?"

    "Remember Brian, the boy we know that was going to college that played Ping-Pong with us last Saturday?

    “Yeah. What about him?”

    “He's…” her voice shook uneasily. “He’s dead."

I sniffed the air contently as Claire, Jaz, and I got out of Claire's clean silver Civic. The sky was swelling with dark purple cumulus clouds which blockaded the sun completely. We had driven to a small house nestled by some woods up in the mountains. Jaz slept on my lap the whole forty-five minutes ride in the rear. She looked a lot nicer in the clothes Claire had brought. The black tank-top, sweatpants, and neon-blue sneakers fit well. Since there was a chill wind in the forecast, I lent her one of my blue and black striped hoodies. It ended at her knees and made her look like a child trying daddy's clothes on. I personally thought it was cute, and Jaz didn't mind as long as she was warm and comfortable.

    "Everyone's in there, right?" I mumbled to Claire.

    "They told me to come ASAP. You..." She paused as her cell-phone vibrated in her pants-pocket. "You head in. I'll be in soon."

    "OK."

    I got a terrible pain in my chest as I walked sheepishly to the house. It was actually more like a log-cabin and had a basement, and today there was a bright internal glow emanating from within. Fixed on top of the door was a wooden sign that read THE DEN. There were about ten or so cars parked behind the house on a gravel lot. Jaz was right beside me, whipping her head in all directions, devouring every scenic detail as if it would all vanish if she didn't imprint it in her memory.

    She said into my ear as I we stepped onto the porch, "There are many hot energies inside this building. I noticed that since that woman came to your home, you have been indirectly leaving me out of something between the two of you. Would you care to explain? I'd have liked it better if we never left your home, but you were in such a rush. Unlike you, I'm being hunted. I don't belong in this world. You were the one who interfered. I just wanna remind you that if anything happens relating to me,  it'll be your responsibility to deal with. I have no power left at the moment, and I'm getting a peculiar sense about those inside this place."

     I was at a loss for words. Maybe I should've left her at my apartment and locked the door and windows. Maybe I shouldn't get her involved. How could I tell her that I wasn't human myself?

    She crossed her arms over her chest as if to say, I'm waiting. 

    “You’ll just have to wait and find out.” I answered coolly. Her deep lilac eyes shone with amusement. I turned the rusty door-knob and in we went.

    There was a circle of people seated in grey foldable chairs whose heads immediately turned to us as we entered the building. The room was lit on all sides by rows of flickering candles, all varying colors, every one safely contained in a glass holder. The floor was all wood, and a rose-themed wallpaper decorated the walls. A cordial stone fireplace enlightened one end of the room, which was accompanied by an attractive Persian rug, in which a leather couch and two chairs were placed along the edge. Although it was a comfortable and warm setting, I couldn’t stop the shiver that rippled across my skin. 

    “Hey, Liam! We were just about to start.” greeted one of the seated people. His name was Mark, and like me, he was a man in his mid-twenties. Unlike me, he had a pair of rectangular glasses that were tinted so that, even if he was outside or inside, the lens were black and you couldn’t see his eyes at all. His dark brown hair was slicked back with gel and gave a full view of the ten or so piercings in each ear. He had a slight beard and mustache and, if you took the time to notice, a jagged scar that ran from his left eyebrow to his right cheek. 

    I gave him an embarrassed smile. “I’ve never been the first one to anything.”

    Mark chuckled and then his eyebrows knit together. “Who’s the chick?”

    “She’s not from around here.” someone said.

    Jaz crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. “I’m not a chick. I’m Jaz.”

    Mark clicked his tongue. “I like her already. Come over here and sit next to me, Honey.”

     Jaz glared coldly at him before answering, “No thanks, Honey. I’ve already decided to sit by Lenny. You could do me a favor and tell me why I’m not getting the same vibe from him as I am from the rest of everyone here.”

     “Lenny, who is she?” a petite woman laughed. She and I had known each other since she moved to the area five years ago. Sammy Heartwood was her name, and she and I shared a common interest in cooking. Sammy was shorter than Jaz but not as ‘lithe’. Her golden blonde hair formed in ringlets around her delicate face and fell to her shoulders. She had greenish-blue eyes and had a habit of wearing yoga pants when she wasn’t working as a nurse.

    I was about to open my mouth when Claire came inside and said, “Hey, everyone! I hope I’m not too late,” and stole a seat next to Mark. 

    A tall woman standing near the wall announced in a loud voice, “If everyone’s done with their talking, then I’m going to begin.” She was Jule Leeman, a five foot ten dark-skinned woman with an Arab background. She was probably the most powerful person in the room, or the entire state for that matter, since she was a Regina, or lion queen. 

    Jaz spoke into my mind, “Am I right to assume that she’s the top authority here?”

    I replied, “Yeah. She’s the local lion queen.” 

    “I knew your girlfriend was some kind of cat. I didn’t show it much, but I’m actually allergic to them.”

    “Then maybe you should find someone else to hide with while you’re being chased by the maniacs where you’re from.”

    “I like my current circumstances, thank you very much. I can stand Chesire because she understands me, but not that woman.” She hissed woman.
.
    “You’re such a handful.” I teased.

    “So are you.”

    Jules paced to the middle of the circle and rested her chocolate almond eyes on Jaz. “And who are you?” she asked while taking note of Jaz’s supple features.

    “Jaz.” the demoness responded. The two stared into each other’s faces, and it was like some friendly unspoken bond had briefly developed between them. They were both grinning smugly, almost identically, but there was something about Jaz’s mouth that was different. Something I couldn’t understand. 

    Jules made a quiet chuckle and addressed me, “You can’t show up one day with someone that’s not a werelion.” she exhaled deeply. “We’ll chat about this later.” she paused. “Privately.” 

    The lioness resumed her position in the center of the circle, combed her fingers through the long, thick ebony spill of her hair. She cleared her throat and began, “Everyone knows about what happened to Brian?” Every head in the room nodded in unison. “It’s being investigated as a homicide. Although it hasn’t been released to the public yet, I was given some information on the crime scene. The police trusted me with this picture so I could share it with the pride and get your input. It’s not for the weak-hearted to view.” 

     I asked, “What happened? How did he die?”

     Jule’s eyes were downcast. “He was in his apartment. He was…shot in the neck and back. There were also more injuries, claw marks, and…bites.”

     Mark linked his fingers together, something he did when he really thought about something.  “You’re telling me there were bites on the kid’s body? That he was partially eaten?”
    

     “It’s in the report and the picture. Confirm it yourself if you don’t believe me.” she dug into her pants-pocket, took out a folded piece of paper, and flung it at Mark.

     He examined the picture and contorted his face in disgust. “Whoever did this is seriously sick.”

     Jaz asked if she could see the photo. I didn’t want to. Just hearing what had happened made my skin crawl.

     Jaz squinted her lilac eyes and muttered, “There’s a message on the wall.”

     “Where?” Jule came over and bent her head over the picture. “It’s barely visible, but it’s there.” 

     Curiosity won my attention and I sucked the image into memory. The picture was taken in a room, his apartment bedroom. There was no furniture nothing but the stained cream carpet and the walls decorated with bodily fluids and scratches. There was Brian, sprawled on the floor like an abandoned doll, laying on his back, his body naked and horrifically beaten. Blood was smeared everywhere, the only thing concealing most of his bare skin. There were jagged claw marks across his back, neck, and limbs. Then there were areas of his body, exposed flesh on his limbs and back where someone, something, had torn the young man up as if he were a steak that they couldn’t quite finish. On the left wall, very neatly, very tiny, was a word sloppily scrawled in blood. It read Leo.

     “How thoughtful.” I murmured painfully as my breakfast threatened to escape my body.

     Jule uttered, “Lion.”

      One of the other women, Emily, quietly spoke. “Do you want us to do anything?” She was of a larger frame, with short brunette hair always pulled back by a blue band with a bow on the top.

     “I want to tell you all to be careful. There have been similar killings in other lion prides close to us. I’ll try my best to find the killer before any more lives are claimed. I’ll be working with the police, too. If you find anything related to the issue, you all have my phone number. Call me.”

     Because Jule was the Regina of the pride she had to fulfill her duties as Regina, too. She had graduated from the state police academy two years ago in order to have a better connection with the government and local authorities. It has been established that every leader of a wereanimal group is to report occasionally to the state and federal authorities on the condition of the group and any surfacing or recognized problems. Wereanimals are treated as potential threats, and monitored closely by the government. We’re required to have a label on our driver’s licenses that identifies us as lyrianthropes. If you don’t have a driver’s license, you have to carry a bracelet or a tag that identifies you. I have the driver’s license label. We also must absolutely not shift in public areas. Doing so can warrant jail time as the minimum punishment. I was very adherent to these laws and haven’t gotten into any hassles. Yet.

     Mark stretched and stood. “Can we go now?”

     “Yes, you can go now.” the regina answered irritably.

     I waited for everyone else to leave before me. I was pathetically courteous, as taught to be, by my mother. Claire made a remark on how much of a gentleman I was and Jaz complained that we were the last to get out, except for Jule. As I was about to close the door Jule called my name and I went back inside to her.

     “Hey, Liam. Who’s that new woman with you?”

     “She’s, uh, a distant relative that’s living with me for while. Her home flooded and she has nowhere else to stay.” I’m such a poor liar!

    “Oh.” she gazed into my eyes as if they were shallow pools and said, “Are you doing anything tomorrow?”

     I was lost in her beautifully sculpted face, the lovely almond eyes and gold-tinted skin. “Not that I know of, unless I decide to go job searching.”

     She was swift to reply, “I don’t have any plans either. Would you like to go to dinner with me?”

     I was stunned. The lioness queen of the Pennsylvania pride was asking me, hopeless Liam, out to dinner. It was completely random and unexpected. I’d admired her for years, but never would have imagined she’d take an interest in me. Was it because she knew more about me than I thought? Did she have a connection with Jaz? What if she just wanted to use me? Oh, what the hell! I shouldn’t over exaggerate on situations like this. Just go and have a good time. Yeah, that’s what I’ll do.

     “I’d be happy to.”

     “Great!” she smiled and it lit up her face like a thousand wildfires. “I was thinking Jenny’s on Market Street.”

     “That sounds good. When should I meet you?”

     “I’ll pick you up at seven tonight. I heard your car is still in the shop.”

     “Thanks.” I whispered, stunned. “I’ll see you later.” And I hurried outside to the car where Claire and Jaz had been waiting.