The Infamous Beast

by T Shadow

  It’s stumped us all slightly. I’m looking at Landon wondering if he’s been extracted by aliens and they’ve left a changeling in their wake, Leland’s got his head tilted to the side like a dog when you’ve mentioned walkies and Finn’s holding on to Landon like he might faint or run away. But Landon just shifts his gaze between all of us before speaking.

  “She said the strangest fucking thing before I left.”

  Finn grasps onto that small morsel of speech that leaves Landon’s lips. It’s the only thing he’s said since he stepped foot into the room. It’s a good thing I guess, at least I know he hasn’t completely lost his shit. If he doesn’t hurry up, I might.

  “Well… what did she say?”

  “She said ‘I don’t believe that you’re as important as you think you are’ then something like, ‘it’s a crying shame when people realise that they aren’t as irreplaceable as they thought they were’. What does she mean by that? Why would she think that I thought that I was important?”

  “Did you say something that would allude to your importance? Something in that long rant of yours?”

  His cheeks redden in anger, “I was only telling her she shouldn’t stick her human nose into supernatural business. Most humans are afraid of dragon shifters because we’re a superior supernatural species. She’s become too comfortable in this town to talk back to me like I’m a piece of shit on the end of her shoe.”

  We all sat there in silence for a moment, taken aback by Landon’s pretentious outburst. I mean, it’s slightly species-ist, right? Like racist, but with species.

  “M-maybe she was talking about w-why we’re here?”

  All of our gazes divert to Leland. The poor little Heir opened his mouth again, and we’re all waiting to see if he engages his foot-in-mouth syndrome, or whether he actually says something worth hearing. There’s only so many times I can listen about codes and algorithms before I want to shoot myself.

  "Y-you know, four dragons randomly show up in a s-small town, for no apparent reason? I mean, c'mon, w-what’s the only thing here worth mentioning?"

  "... The Dragon's Gold?"

  "E-exactly. And what are dragon's obsessed with?"

  "Valuable treasure... Jewels, riches..."

  "Or gold." It's the end of the sentence that Finnegan was going to finish before I butted in. And I get it, why wouldn't any of the locals here not associate us with seeking out the Dragon's Gold? We all smell like smoke and ashes for Christ's sake, as soon as we walked into this town, they knew what we were. Might as well have come in with a giant banner over our heads saying, "COME SEE THE REAL LIFE DRAGON SHIFTERS!"

  "Wait, so she thinks that I think that I'm important because I've come to this stupid little town for gold?!"

  "N-no, she probably thinks that you think you're important d-due to the fact that you claimed you're a part of a 's-superior supernatural race'.” To make his point, Leland even goes as far to use finger quotes, either in an attempt to punctuate his point or to point out that Landon is a fucking idiot. I'm going with the latter personally, considering he's a little shit ninety-nine percent of the time.

  But those finger quotes are the small spark that leads to the cataclysmic event that Landon creates. I did mention previously that his attitude is really something that is blown out of proportion, much like his ego. It only takes a second and some slightly insulting conversation for Landon to metaphorically blow his top.

  “But we are a superior supernatural race!”

  “Define superior? Huh, is it because we breathe fire?!” Looks like Leland is blowing his top too, considering the stutter has disappeared completely whilst he shouts at the top of his lungs.

  “Yeah, cause we’re big scaley fuckers, we shoot fire from our fucking tonsils and we eat barbequed food at every opportunity, and did I forget to mention that we’re fucking huge! We can grow bigger than most fucking hotels, and at some opportunities, bigger than Big fucking Ben!”

  “One’s description of their inner beast does not make them superior!”

  “Well if we’re not superior, then what the fuck are we?! We’re on the top of the fucking supernatural totem pole!”

  Finn walks away from Landon at his outburst. I think it was the referencing of the totem pole that really got to the fiery redhead enough to remove himself from the situation. I think removing the “eat first, ask questions later” dragon from the immediate vicinity is the best idea, even if he is the only moving himself to the other side of the room. He just manages to get his arse on the sofa when Leland starts up again, like an annoying siren that rattles around your brain.

  “We’re fucking dragons but, if you’ve fucking met an Alicorn, you would realise you aint some superior piece of shit!”

  “Why because they have a bloody horn?!”

  “No, cause they have fucking magic, you dipshit!”

  I rub my fore finger between my brows, trying to ease the tension that’s growing, “Will you two gobshite’s shut the fuck up? Between the both of you, you’ll somehow manage to wake the dead.”

  Leland’s head whips around to face me, the sneer still lingering on his face from the discussion with Landon, “You’re the fucking gobshite, you gobshite!”

  “What are you, twelve?”

  “Go fuck yourself Remington!” He gets up and storms off towards the bedroom, muttering as he walks past, it sounds something like, “you stupid fucking bellend,” but I only manage to catch some of it. The slam of the door reverbs throughout the entire suite, and I groan as I look back at Landon.

  “What the fuck are you looking at me for?”

  “What do you mean, what the fuck am I looking at you for, you fucking started it!”

  “All I did was come back to the Hotel!”

  “You didn’t start the stand off in the book store then no? The argument in the bar?”

  “That was all a misunderstanding!”

  “How was asking someone their age, species, and whatever else you said a misunderstanding?!”

  “I didn’t mean it like that!”

  “Oh come off it Landon, you fucking twat.”

  “You’re the twat!”

  “Well honestly mate, you’re just a fucking ballbag.”

  “Ballbag, how original, you fucking adolescent.”

  With that flourishing statement, Landon walks in the opposite direction to Leland, slamming another door in this fucking suite, solidifying my migraine and raising my temper. I flop down on the chaise lounge running my calloused hands down my face in defeat, “Why am I surrounded by idiots?”

  It’s only Finn’s laughter that answers me, the sarcastic shit.

  “So... I’ve heard that Verity is back in town.”

  I bang my head on the shelf above me and a feminine shriek escapes from my lips. Rubbing the back of my bruised skull, I turn towards Mika who’s cuddling the little shitbag. Annoyed at the sight, I scowl at her happy, smiley face. Only at my own peril does Mika find amusement. I can feel a lump forming under my hand, but thankfully it feels like it’s only going to be a small one. “Verity’s back? When did this happen?”

  “Well, she did say she was only going away for a couple of months.”

  “She said that a couple of years ago!” I reach in and grab the dog kibble from the shelf for Lucius, cursing the shelves as I close them for good measure. Turning away, I slam the door and then reach for the fridge within two steps. The fridge is an constant, reliable comfort, whereas those shelves are now a part of my own fucking personal hell. Stupid fucking shelves.

  “Yeah, well, she met someone and that’s why she hasn’t been back since.” Mika rubs Lucius’s head and when she gets behind his ears, he emits this little purr which is cat-like in sound, but less ferocious or forewarning. I haven’t the heart to tell him that it’s more like a deep squeak, something that makes him seem cuter by the second. Sometimes he reminds me of how vicious he can be, it’s normally demonstrated through bitten ankles— which hurts like fuck.

 
“She’s met someone?”

  “Yeah, a nice guy apparently... has a weird name.”

  “Can names even be weird anymore?”

  “Some people name their kids after cars...”

  “Okay, I’ll give you that.” After rummaging, I finally find the cooked chicken, courtesy of Mika— she cooked it all up the other day for him. I grab that, as well as the cooked peas and carrots, leaving them on the side alongside the dog kibble. Hip bumping the fridge door shut, I listen to Mika whilst preparing the Devil’s dinner.

  “I think his name begins with an L.”

  “Helpful, Mika. That super narrows it down for me.” I don’t have to turn around to know that she’s probably pulling a face or sticking her tongue out at me. Being the asshole I am, I pull a knife out of the drawer and lift it up, waving it as I look over my shoulder at Mika, who is in fact flipping me the bird. She stops when she sees the knife, pretending not to have done it in the first place. Chuckling, I use the knife for what I intended and I cut up the food for Lucius before he manages to grow opposable thumbs and stabs me himself. Thank God most animals don’t have fully functioning thumbs, but I know of a few witches that could make even your wildest dreams come true. Lucius having opposable thumbs is one of my worst nightmares, but I also know a few witches petty enough to grant those for free.

  But for the unwarranted bird, I quickly push the food in the food bowl and dump it down on the floor by my feet. The sound of the bowl hitting my wood flooring alerts the vicious little bastard to his freshly prepared dinner. Unfortunately for Mika, Lucius uses her as a human scratching pole in order to make his get away easier, he pushes his back against her arms, which causes Mika to drop him. But the dastardly bugger is already sliding down her torso, his claws attached to her black hoodie and jeans.

  Mika should know better than to cuddle him right before dinner time, but her clothes have paid the price. When Lucius is finally a safe distance away, which means at least a meter out of clawing and biting range, Mika inspects her clothes, noting every rip and hole he’s left behind. It doesn’t seem to phase Mika too much, considering she just shrugs her shoulders, pulls her hood up and carries on as if it never happened.

  “So, you were saying... About the boyfriend?”

  “Oh yeah, apparently he’s a dragon.”

  I’ve never heard of a vampire and a dragon pair before, but it wouldn’t surprise me that Verity would push the species boundaries. She always was one for the strange and unusual, so having a beast for a boyfriend doesn’t surprise me in the slightest. I wonder how broken and damaged this one had to be for Verity to take them in.

  “That’s not weird though, especially here.”

  “Nah, it’s just weird in general.”

  “Why is it weird in general? Love is love.”

  “Yeah, but ‘fish are friends, not food’, does not apply to all situations.”

  Colour me confused, but what the fuck is she on about? My look must say it all, because Mika laughs loudly, clutching her stomach at my dumbfounded expression.

  “You know, from— oh wait, we haven’t watched it yet. It’s from a cartoon film, and basically, they tell the shark not to eat the fish, because fish are friends, not food.” I nod for her to continue. “So... uh... you know, the shark has a hard time changing his perspective on his favourite food type, but he realised that the fish was also… well... fish, so he changed his mind... reluctantly.”

  “Right... and what’s this film called?”

  “Finding Nemo.”

  “Who’s Nemo? The shark?”

  “No he’s the clownfish.”

  “Clownfish. Does he have a red nose and bow tie?”

  “... are you joking?”

  “You just told me about the bloody shark who changed his dietary habits for the sake of his own morals!”

  “But… but... it’s a film!”

  “It’s a joke!”

  Mika throws her hands up in frustration and storms off in the direction of my spare bedroom. Clearly my subtle sarcasm has finally come up and tapped her on the shoulder. It’s only when I notice the tell tale clattering about that I go and investigate what she’s doing. When I get to the bedroom, I notice Mika sitting on top of the bed, using the duvet cover as a nesting bed. She’s pulled the duvet back and rolled it up, making a cushion for herself. The only slightly annoying thing about it, is that she’s completely human as she does it. I mean, I can’t exactly argue with a humongous tiger, can I?

  “Mika, do you really have to wreck the bed?”

  “I’m nesting.”

  “Well, once you’ve finished nesting, will you make the bed again.”

  Mika throws me some serious side eye; if a look said a thousand words, she’d be spitting daggers. Thankfully, she’s only glaring at me from the confines of her blanket cave.

  “Look, stare at me all you want, but you know you don’t like it when the mattress is cold at night.”

  A small irritated growl slips through and Mika looks as if she wants to continue her protest nest, but changes her mind at the last minute and begins smoothing her duvet back out, so that it covers all the corners of the mattress— separating it from the chill of the room. Having said my piece, I leave her to her meandering and wait for her in the front room. It might be only the early evening, but the autumn weather brings an inconsistent cold breeze to the air. It’s the perfect opportunity to light the fire in the front room to combat the low temperatures first hand.

  Sitting in my armchair, I hear the clicking of nails against the floorboards. I’m not surprised that my mischievous fox scoffed down his dinner and is now seeking out food-coma snuggles. Those clicks become louder until I see the little bastard at the foot of my chair. It’s only his repetitive squeaking that makes me pick him up like a small child.

  Holding one hand around his rib cage, and the other hand tucking his tail to hold his bum, I lift him onto my lap and let him curl up on me. As he settles, I gently rub the orange fur between his ears, calming his squeaks into soft little yips. When he starts to fall asleep, his tongue pokes out between his teeth, and his ears flattened against his head. It’s only when Lucius is completely settled, that Mika emerges from the spare room, wrapped tightly in a blanket like a burrito.

  I raise my eyebrow at her burrito state, but instead of acknowledging me or even answering me, Mika belly flops onto the sofa across from the fireplace, landing on the couch, her burrito still firmly intact. The thunk of a body on the couch startles Lucius slightly, but with a few well timed head scratches, Lucius falls back asleep.

  “Please try not to wake the devil, Mika, he’s bad enough when he’s awake, regardless of when he’s just eaten.”

  “He’ll be fine.”

  “Mika, I swear to God, if you piss him off, I’ll throw him at you.”

  Mika raises both hands enough so that they poke out of the opening of her burrito in surrender, not wanting to wake the small beast and therefore, piss off the bigger beast. The bigger beast meaning me, of course.

  Stretching his legs out in front of him, Lucius yawns, digging his small claws into the tops of my knees. As his nails pierce my skin, it really feels as if he’s trying to skin me alive. It’s enough for me to pick up the little bugger and place him securely in his dog bed by the fire. Little fox ears twitch at the disturbance in air pressure and comfort, but eventually settle back down when the warmth of the fire reaches the fur on his back. The tail slides around his little legs and body, hugging them close in a cocoon of safety.

  I look at Mika, as she stares at Lucius, her eyes hold that doting, ever-loving, ‘couldn’t do anything wrong in my eyes’ look that every mother holds. But Mika isn’t a mother. She’s more like the childless Aunt that goes away for eleven months out of the year, and then turns up at christmas, smashed off her bonce with an extra bottle of wine or two to keep the party going.

  I however, am the mother that cleans up all the shit, gives the cuddles, feeds the monster, and fights away the
baddies at night. Mika? Tells Lucius he’s a good boy when he’s being a shit bag, says he’s singing when he’s being a bloody gobshite, feeds him all the bloody treats and spoils the absolute fuck out of him.

  Mika’s the angel, the light of his life, the rising sun and the stars in the sky. I’m the devil, the harbinger of destruction, dreams and life as we know it.

  “See, he’s fine.”

  “Oh shut up Mika.”

  “Oi, I was only saying he’s fine!”

  “He’s warm and in bed, what do you expect?”

  “Well, I’m warm, but not in bed, so he’s better than I am right now.”

  “You don’t wanna be in bed right now.”

  “Nah, I’d rather be at the pub, if I’m honest.”

  One of my perfectly manicured eyebrows raise, a diagonal ginger line that causes some asymmetry on my normally symmetrical face. Mika, the introverted hermit and socially challenged tiger-shifter wants to go to the pub, surrounded by humans and monsters, trolls, fae and vampires alike.

  “Verity will be there!”

  Okay, so now I can see why she wants to go to the pub. Missing Verity for both of us is like missing the last piece of an almost complete jigsaw puzzle. Verity coming home is the ultimate celebration for us, our little group back together again.

  “Have you messaged her on your message thingy?”

  “I’ve told you before Remi, it’s called a text. A message, SMS— if you will. Honestly, I think maybe I should give you that old laptop of mine, and you should get yourself the internet. It’ll only make things easier for you.”

  “I’ve told you before, I don’t need it, nor want it.”

  “Just a phone then?”