Eden Ch 02 2

I was almost finished wiping down my last table when I looked over at the clock hanging on the wall: 4:20 am. Only ten more minutes on my shift—and then Zane and I can go sleep the day away. I sighed contentedly. I know most people wouldn't be happy with a lowly waitressing job at a small hole-in-the-wall diner like Sally's Seafood, but to me it is a small piece of heaven.

Not only do I get to work alongside my best friend, who happens to have impressed Sally herself with his superb grilling skills, but I also get to stare out the window at an impeccable view of the Atlantic Ocean. Just breathing in the salty air makes me feel like a bird on the wind, a bird that has left behind this cage of fear and suspicion. While Zane spends the night in the back of the kitchen sneaking gulps of Bourbon from Sally's private stash, I wander the diner, practically empty at the dark hours of the night. I'm happy to keep busy, cleaning tables that are already clean and serving middle-aged men who are tired from long days at work.

It has been two months since Zane and I have arrived in Portland and we have already established ourselves at Sally's Seafood Diner and moved into a small, run-down apartment on the East End. Sure it is no Versailles, but it has running water and a warm bed, and that's good enough for us. Being werecats, instinctively affectionate with a sibling-like loyalty, we are more comfortable sharing a bed than being separated.

Even though there haven't been any sightings or scentings of any other werecats, we still act cautious and wary. It is a lot more dangerous to stay in one place rather than move around constantly, but we both are tired of living on the streets.

At the end of our nightshift, Zane grabs my hand, pulling me out of the diner and onto the dark, empty street where we both try to stifle our giggles. Exhaustion always makes me giddy and careless—a trait we have in common.

It is only after walking a few blocks down the empty street that I feel a prickling at the back of my neck and the hairs on my arms stand up. I glance sideways at Zane and have to stifle my panic when I see that his nostrils are flared and his eyes alert. How long has he sensed danger while I walked along unperturbed?

I sweep my eyes across the contours of the street in front of us: crickety wooden benches, dark store windows, extinguished lampposts. I resist my instinct to whip my head around and look behind us--that would be a dead give-away—something Zane has repeatedly drilled into my head. Instead I gently sniff the air, careful to appear nonchalant and undisturbed. I smell nothing except the salty ocean and the seagulls' shit. My heart is pounding fiercely in my chest, and I can't help it when my hand grips Zane's just a little bit harder.

Under his breath Zane catches my attention.

"When I say go, run down the side alley and up the fire escape. Don't look back."

My irritation almost obliterates my growing panic as I grit out, "Don't be a fucking hero, blondie."

I boldly turn my head towards him and catch his eye, giving me only a short moment to see the roguish grin on his face.

"Wouldn't dream of it. Now GO!"

I lunge down the alley to my right and leap up onto the fire escape, comforted by the fact that I can hear Zane right behind me, but horrified to hear the footsteps running towards us in the distance. I snap out of it when Zane grabs me by the hand, propelling me forward faster. The footsteps fade away into the distance and Zane and I sprint straight home, forgoing any laughter or jokes until we're sure we've lost our stalker.

"Who was that, Zane? And why the hell were they chasing us!"

He looks at me uncertainly, running his fingers through his messy hair. His hand was shaking.

"I can't—can't talk about it right now...but I'll tell you—I'll tell you soon. I promise."

My frustration is practically tangible, my cat is seething and prowling from the adrenaline, and it is all I can do to calm her down.

"You better."

****

It is 7:00 pm at the diner. Zane and I have just started our shift, but he is still refusing to talk to me about what happened last night. I've already decided to give him the silent treatment back. When he looks over at me pretending to lasso a catfish, I am satisfied by the dejected look on his face as I give him the cold shoulder. Serves him right.

I am already irritable and annoyed about our stalker friend last night, but add to that the stupid recurring dream that keeps haunting my sleep. Me wandering that Cathedral Forest and running into the same white tiger, only to wake up after 8 hours and feel as if I haven't had any sleep whatsoever. What the fuck is wrong with my life?

At our 10:00 pm dinner break Zane finally breaks down under the horror of my icy cold stare. We are sitting on a bench out back that looks over the waterfront. The light from the back door of the diner casts a yellow glow over both our faces.

"If I tell you my suspicions do you promise not to get all pissy?"

I narrow my eyes at the word. "No."

Looking at me with an exasperated expression, he takes out a cigarette for us to share: a peace offering. I take it but don't break eye contact.

He heaves a heavy sigh, and lets the words tumble out of his mouth in rapid speed, "Okay I know I was being sketchy about last night, but I don't know exactly who was following us or how they could have found me, because I have no doubt they were looking for me and now—fuck, motherfuck—now they've seen you."

I let out a puff of cigarette smoke and watch it dissipate in the salty night air, trying to understand his meaning.

"I don't understand."

I pass the cig to him, and he stares at it for a moment before he says, "Now that they've seen you, they're going to come for you...and the only way to stay safe is to leave."

"I don't understand! Who's going to come for me? And why? Start from the very beginning, Zane, or I swear I will beat it out of you." I'm practically quivering with anger now and his lips twitch in what I know will be his signature grin as he hands the cigarette back to me.

"I guess it starts with us—our species—who we are. The things I haven't told you of the history of werecats." He looks at me before continuing, "Well, technically the correct name for a werecat is Panthera Tigris. But I know you always called yourself a werecat, and I just never wanted to go on this babble of telling you the real story. Sorry about that"

I just stared at him. Panthera Tigris?

He went on, "The Panthera Tigris are the werecats known as White Tigers, which you have already seen and experienced by phasing into your tiger and blah blah blah...you already know all that, Edie."

My impatience was escalating, and I hurried to keep him talking, "Okay so where are the rest of the Panthera Tigris? I've only ever seen me and you and now that creature-of-the-night freak yesterday. I mean, there has to be more than just us, right?"

He guffawed, "Of course there are, duh, but the mixed bloods are scattered and usually prefer to live on their own or in small groups, like us. And the Purebloods..." he hesitated, "well, let's just say they keep to themselves." Zane suddenly seemed uncomfortable with the subject, and my curiosity got the best of me. I pressed on.

"What are Mixed bloods? And Purebloods? What do you mean they 'keep to themselves'?"

He turned away from me to look out the window, and I could see his jaw clench. He didn't say anything for a few minutes, and when I finally decided to get up and go back to the diner his shoulders slumped and he sighed. I could tell he was going into his whole don't-laugh-this-is-fuckin-serious conversation mode and I held my breath, my eyes aflame with curiosity. Two things Zane absolutely refuses to talk about are his past and werecats, which is kind of ironic seeing as how we ARE werecats.

"I guess I'd have to explain it to you someday anyways, so better to get it over with. The Purebloods are werecats that are direct descendants of the ancient Dhruv bloodline, which is sort of like Panthera Tigris royalty because they have a completely undiluted genepool—solely white tigers. So while the mixed bloods have some normal Bengal Tiger blood mixed in their ancestry, the Purebloods don't and they look down on the mixed bloods because of that."

"What? But what's so bad about Bengal Tiger blood?"

"Nothing at all! It's just that only White Tigers are werecats, they have Gaia's magic. The orange Bengal Tigers aren't werecats...they are completely animal. So it was sort of a taboo thing for a Panthera Tigris to mate with a Bengal Tiger...usually only the feral, insane werecats practiced this. But anyways, those Bengal Tigers don't have the advantages that our human side brings; they are weaker, slower, more instinctive and predictable. So you can see the disadvantages that Bengal Tiger blood brings to the Panthera Tigris. The Mixed Bloods' diluted genes make them weaker—they are the easier prey for the Purebloods. But even though the Purebloods are stronger and faster, they are 10 times more territorial and possessive than the mixed bloods.

"So what do I mean by them 'keeping to themselves'? I mean that they despise everyone who is not one of them. They alienate the Mixed Bloods, even though they share the same ancestry and are part of the same kingdom. They call them derogatory names—that, by the way, aren't even creative!—and they act as though they are truly Gaia's gift to earth. And whenever they do come across any Panthera Tigris that happen to have mixed blood, they scent them immediately and cut them down—slaughter them like pigs! They call them abominations and claim that they pollute the true magic of the Panthera Tigris! What a load of shit! Anyone with even a hint of Panthera Tigris blood is naturally as pure as the white fur on my belly!"

Zane stopped, breathing heavily and obviously outraged, while I just stared at him in surprise and sympathy. For someone who refuses to talk about the Panther Tigris, he is very passionate about the subject. I guess racial prejudice isn't limited to only the human race. I waited for Zane to calm down, well mainly for his face to turn back to a semi-normal color, before continuing with my questions.

"Um, so...who are the Purebloods? Where are they? Where do they live? You said they keep to themselves, so what do they do—hide out in their own little Amish community in the middle of nowhere?"

He laughed, "I wish. It's quite the opposite actually." Zane shivered, as if remembering a distant nightmare, before quietly continuing, "They have spies and scouts everywhere. Wherever the Panthera Tigris are they are not very far away, but the Capital is in Russia—in the middle of Siberia, the supposed birthplace of the mystical Panthera Tigris, where it is said that Gaia herself shaped the first white tiger. Of course that is where the Pureblood Court is, where those snobbish prigs are all vying to live—near the ruling House."

He scoffed and rolled his eyes playfully, pretending to slit his wrists. His good mood had returned, thankfully. When Zane has one of his temper tantrums it usually takes me a couple of hours to cheer him back up.

I passed the cigarette over to him and giggled at his antics. It all seemed like one big fairytale. "The ruling House?"

"Oh right, I forget you're completely clueless when it comes to our own species—- "

I punched him in the shoulder, "Well that's not my fault, blondie."

"—Hey do you want me to explain or not?" He raised an eyebrow. I raised my eyebrow in response.

"Okay so the Purebloods are all of the Dhruv bloodline, but that's kind of deceiving because the Dhruv bloodline is actually made up of seven different bloodlines, which are called the Houses. Those are the Houses Dragomir, Grul, Katzev, Silivasi, Florea, Lazarev, and Petrova. The seven Houses each have their own specialty in magic...well I guess six Houses now since the Petrova bloodline died out, but anyways the Houses are all greedy and corrupt and they make alliances and have secret contracts and interbreed and all that fun stuff."

I threw my head back with a laugh. "Be serious! That does not really happen in the modern 21-century world."

He glared at me pointedly.

"Sorry, shutting up now."

"So, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, the Houses all have residences in the Capital, although not all of the Purebloods live there. The Capital is a secret city in Siberia that acts as the headquarters of the Panthera Tigris Kingdom—it's where the Prime Alpha lives. And the Houses also have residences there because the House Heads all form the Imperial Council, which act as advisors to the Alpha. They call it the IC, because 'THEY SEE' everything that happens."

I stared wide-eyed. I now knew why Zane never mentioned anything about the Panthera Tigris Kingdom—it was a lot more serious than he ever let on.

"The Capital is where the Alpha makes all the decisions—he has all the power and that's because he's the most dominant werecat. For the past 300 years, the Alpha throne has been held by one of the sons of the House Dragomir—no other challengers have successfully usurped the throne...yet," he threw me a devilish smile and I grinned.

"Okay...so what does this have to do with what happened last night?"

He rolled his eyes. "C'mon Edie I'm getting there. So Alpha Dragomir is extremely smart and cunning and even ruthless when it comes to protecting and preserving the Kingdom. Starting a couple centuries ago, the births among werecats started to decrease. Well, at first nobody really noticed, but after a while whole families were only raising maybe one or two cubs when families used to be raising close to eight or nine cubs. And not only that, 4 out of 5 cubs that were birthed were male, and because Panthera Tigris are only born when two parent Panthera Tigris mate, this lack of females began to cause a great panic that—well long story short, the previous Alpha was challenged and killed by none other than—"

"Alpha Dragomir, yes I get it. So what are you trying to tell me? That because I'm female I'm in danger?"

"Just listen Eden!" I froze. He never calls me by my full name.

"Eden, the Alpha commanded his Betas to bite and turn female humans in order to create more mates for the males--" I shot up out of my seat. I had heard enough. I already hated the Panthera Tigris Alpha and his cruel orders. But Zane grabbed my arm and pulled me back.

He continued whispering furiously, looking back toward the diner to make sure no one heard. "But he forgot to take into account that only Gaia chooses werecat mates and only then can those mates procreate. Over half of the females that were bitten died in the turning process, and the ones that lived were mostly sickly and barren. You are the only turned Panthera Tigris that I have ever seen—ever even heard of—that has survived the bite. And now—now that other werecat stalker asshole knows too because your scent gives you away."

He stared at me, begging me to understand.

"So I'm in danger because I'm a turned female werecat in a world where female werecats are in great demand..."

He nodded.

I took a deep breath and tried not to let the fear overcome me. But my voice still wavered when I asked, "What's going to happen to me?"

He pulled me into his arms, tucking my head into the crook of his neck.

"Nothing. I'll protect you. They know who you are by now and they'll track you, but we'll leave this place and go somewhere where they'll never find you."

I blinked away the tears that were filling my eyes and gave him a determined nod.

My heart broke at the thought of leaving Portland. Portland has been the one place where I am not alone, the only home I have had since leaving my foster parents, the one place Zane and I are comfortable in, where we can walk the streets at night and know that we have a home to return to when the sun dawns in the morning.

I close my eyes and just breathe, and when I find the strength to open them Zane is still there, his blond hair messy from the wind, his baby blue eyes pleading. My friend, my brother.

I will never be alone.

I nod again. "Home is where the heart is."

Immediately we we're running out the back to the waterfront, our hands clasped together, our feet taking us away from our brief respite, our one time home, never to return to this safe haven again.

****