by Bree Moore
“We were going over the ways in which those with paranormal abilities endangered human civilians, and the pros and cons of Naturalization to both populations,” a girl with straight, pale brown hair answered from the front of the classroom. Harper hadn’t met her, but remembered glimpsing the girl at movie night. Her body was model-thin, and her every movement was accompanied with a willowy grace.
Harper straightened in her chair. “Pros? What pros could there possibly be?”
Mr. Petrov perked up. “Harper takes counterpoint. Who wants to go toe-to-toe with her? Leah?”
The willowy girl twisted around to face Harper. “There are many benefits to Naturalization. When civilians aren't in terror for their lives, or hunting their neighbors to root out witches and monsters, everything runs more smoothly. They become kinder, treat each other with less suspicion and more good will. It's for the good of the community.” She smiled with such self-assurance Harper wanted to fly across the room and deck her. Instead, Harper clenched her hands and forced herself back into her chair, feeling the top dig into her upper back.
Petrov folded his arms and tilted his head, looking at Harper over the top of his glasses.
Harper breathed in, and let the words flow out. “But what about the community that's being eradicated? Who knows how each of our kind emerged? However they emerged, they’re cultures now. Entire tribes packs, flocks, and more are in danger of disappearing, forced into hiding or to alter their entire identity just to make others comfortable.”
“Paranormal individuals cause damage on a massive scale, including deaths.”
Harper let her breath out slowly to ease the anger she felt rising. She could have a rational debate about this, couldn’t she? “How often are they alone when they change for the first time? How often are they met with terror, hate, and violence from those they love most, those who should support them? How often do those people become the first victims because paranormals don't know what's happening or why and they're afraid of dying, but afraid of themselves most of all?”
Murmurs of agreement rose from several others.
“That's what Naturalization is for,” Leah said. “If we give ourselves up to the greater good of safety for everyone, we must train our destructive instincts, reject our alternate forms, allow our reproductive ability to be eradicated and reduced, and strive to become as humans are. Then there are no half-breed children transforming without understanding. No new monsters created. Less chaos, less murder, more peace.”
Harper stared at her hands. “What if we embraced it instead? Taught our children, and humans, how to live together with all of our abilities mixed together. If we accept Naturalization as the only way, we admit our lives mean less than the humans’. But why should they be the superior race?”
“Because they can control themselves!” Leah’s voice rose.
Harper stood, slapping her palms on the desk in front of her. “Humans still murder! They still lie and abuse and cheat! You call that control? Some of us could stop those things, and some of us do, but how can we make any difference at all if our unique abilities are stripped away? It shouldn't be about making us appear like them. It should be about helping us act like the best of them. We don't have to give up the essence of ourselves to do that.” Harper’s gaze burned ahead, not at her debate opponent, but at Mr. Petrov. She shook with anger, but for once she felt completely in control. The energy to shift built up beneath the surface, ready to harness, but it didn’t overwhelm her.
Willow-girl opened her mouth for rebuttal, but Mr. Petrov unfolded his arms and his hands came together in a slow clap. The rest of the class joined him, even Harper’s opponent.
“Eloquently expressed. Perhaps you could consider a career in paranormal law, Miss Harper. We could always use forward thinkers like you to improve the lives of those who follow.”
His praise reached his brown eyes and threw Harper off guard. She sat frozen in her seat, unable to think of what to say.
“Now, who wants to comment on the debate we just heard?”
Harper stayed silent, spent after giving the most impassioned speech of her life. A speech that, in the end, meant nothing. It didn’t change Petrov’s opinion, or Leah’s. It had zero impact on the laws holding her here. Next time, she’d keep her mouth shut.
“That was brilliant.” Ian leaned over, hair falling into his face. “I’ve never heard it put that way before.” He brushed the hair back to reveal hopeful blue eyes.
“Yeah, but, do you think it can ever change?” Harper replied. “No one here seems to care.”
“They care, they just hide it. They’re afraid to feel it, even when they know what’s coming. I think it can change, but like so many people throughout history, we might have to fight for it.”
Harper snorted, crossing her arms. “The front line suffers the most.”
“The front line values the changes most,” Ian said. The bell rang, signaling the end of class. “If you ever start an insurrection, I’m in.” He left.
Harper wasn’t sure what to think of that. Start a rebellion? Yeah, right. She wasn’t a natural-born leader, prepared to raise a flag and lead her people to freedom. She didn’t need anyone besides herself and Quinn to be concerned about.
She glanced at the paper Lilith gave her. Zeke’s class was next, something called Practical Paranormal, which sounded ridiculous. At least it was outside. Following that, the next class was Remedies with Lilith herself. Harper swallowed, thinking of what the witch said last night. Hopefully, Harper would get some answers. She picked up the unused notebook and pencil and walked past Mr. Petrov, feeling his piercing gaze as it followed her out of the classroom.
Harper stopped at her room to take off the bandages around her shoulders— it was nearly lunchtime—and drop off the pencil and notebook, then bolted outside. The sun shone bright and clear, no sign of yesterday’s storm.
The class had over thirty people in it. All of them seemed to be near Harper’s age, but it was hard to tell with paranormals. The guy standing next to her could be a hundred, even though that was unlikely. A lot of the really old ones were too good at hiding, or they were killed in the chaos of the first years after the Reveal when they wouldn’t turn themselves in. It made Harper wonder if they had Naturalization camps for older adults. It seemed likely.
Harper squinted at the bulky figure at the front of the group. Zeke greeted the group with a bright white smile she hadn’t seen on him before. His dreadlocks swung past his shoulders until he grabbed an elastic from his wrist and pulled them up out of the way. His loose grey t-shirt and jeans made him look like he was more ready to hang out with friends than teach a class.
The blind woman who spoke to Harper before she rescued Tyson stood beside him. The red amethyst was still in Harper’s pocket. Harper wanted to thank her, or at least find out her name, but Zeke spoke before Harper could move toward her.
“Hey, guys,” Zeke called out. Everyone stopped talking. Harper eyed the crowd. Whether out of serious respect or absolute fear, Zeke somehow commanded compliance. Even Keith, who stood at the back of the group with several other teenagers. Zeke was the pack leader, but Harper assumed his jurisdiction only applied to werewolves.
Keith caught Harper’s stare and a feral grin spread across his face. He nudged the guy next to him, the same guy Harper had choked at breakfast her first day. That one glared furiously, baring elongated teeth as if he was losing control of his human form just at the sight of her. Harper shuddered and looked back at Zeke as he spoke.
“Pair up, everybody. You know the drill. And don’t hog the newbie.” Zeke grinned at Harper, a fully-bared smile. Werewolves. Would she ever get used to them?
“Get going, then!” Zeke barked.
Everyone spurred into action. A dozen people surrounded Harper, asking her to spar with them, jostling each other to get close to her. Harper whirled around, not sure what to do or say, until Zeke strode up and started shoving people off
in pairs.
“Exactly what I told you not to do, you cretins,” he growled, throwing two more people away. He grabbed one by the shoulder and pushed her toward me. “Sharon, you’ll be Harper’s first match. Don’t go easy on her just because she’s new. I have a feeling this one will be harder to crack than you expect.”
“Match?” Harper swallowed. What was going on?
“It’s a duel.” The tall blonde, Sharon, smiled down at Harper. She was built like a truck—broad shoulders and thick thighs. Harper almost expected a German accent to come out of her mouth, but she talked like any American.
“Circles up!” The blind woman shouted, standing where Zeke had left her. She raised her arms and the field crackled with energy, large white circles burning into the grass. They were about ten feet wide and shimmering globes erupted from the lines, arching into twenty individual bubbles spread across the wide field.
“Stay inside the circle,” Zeke gestured. “On my mark, the duel begins. You take turns attacking. When it’s your turn to attack, your goal is to make your opponent shift or reveal their magic or otherworldly abilities. When it’s your opponent’s turn, you must avoid revealing your true form and abilities. Winner is decided when ten minutes is up or the defender loses.”
Loses what? Their life? Harper wiped her clammy hands on her jeans. “I thought we were discouraged from attacking each other?” Wasn’t that the point of the wards?
Zeke chuckled. “Well, yes. But we all have steam to blow off. This keeps it controlled, organized, and relatively safe. Believe it or not, we have far less conflict this way.”
Harper swallowed, wiping her hands on her pants. “Are there any rules?”
“Just stay in the circle. And do no lasting harm. Bumps, bruises, and scrapes are expected. Anything more will result in your being removed from the class for the day and given a citation. That goes on your Naturalization record.” Zeke fixed his eyes on Harper.
Harper nodded, and he left the circle she stood in.
Sharon held out her hand. Harper gulped past the dryness in her throat, wishing she’d thought to get some water before leaving the cabin. Harper hoped Sharon couldn’t feel the clamminess of her hand as they shook.
“So, uh, do I get to ask what you are before we start?”
Sharon’s smile widened. “You can ask, but I don’t have to answer.”
“Fair enough,” Harper muttered. If she had to guess, she’d say werewolf. She was huge, for one, and she acted cocky enough.
People were scattered all over the field, each facing their opponent, serious expressions or friendly chatter varying from circle to circle.
“Anything else you care to tell me? Any rules that Zeke left out?”
“The circles are warded.” Sharon kicked toward the white line that marked the outside of the circle. “If you fall or try to get out after Zeke’s call to start, you’ll get a shock. It’s a bit nasty.”
Harper stared at the innocent white line in the dirt. “Right. Thanks. So, who’s the witch?” she asked, looking back to where the blind woman and Zeke stood talking together.
“On your mark,” Zeke called.
“Attacker,” Sharon said, jabbing her finger at herself and avoiding the question. She pointed at Harper. “Defender.”
Harper crouched, getting ready to run, or at least brace herself for whatever Sharon did. Harper’s shoulders ached with soreness from yesterday’s flight. She rolled them a bit to shake off the sensation. Based on what Lilith had said, Harper should be fine to shift. But the whole point of the exercise was to avoid doing just that. A queasy feeling spread through Harper’s stomach.
“Anyone ever died?” she asked.
Shannon grinned.
A howl erupted from behind Harper, and she almost shifted. Judging by the activity that exploded in the other circles around the field, that howl was the signal to start.
And now Sharon had two heads.
One Sharon hissed, baring jagged teeth. She—they—lunged toward Harper, those two heads on a single body tripping her out worse than the edibles she got a hold of when she was fifteen. Harper dove out of the way, rolling through the dirt and barely avoiding the invisible warded barrier at the edge of the circle. She crouched, panting, and faced the two-headed girl.
“I thought we weren’t supposed to shift.” Harper’s heart pounded, and her muscles seized with fear. Those two heads reminded her of a cobra, but without the hoods Sharon looked like something else that Harper couldn’t put her finger on.
“Defenders can’t shift. Attackers can do anything shy of kill or maim.” The talking head flicked out its tongue, now pointed. She darted forward, both heads aimed at Harper, green eyes flashing. Harper ducked and rolled between Sharon’s legs.
“What the hell are you?” Her heads were freaky with their inhuman teeth and snake-like necks, but she didn’t seem to have much else going for her. A little extra speed, possibly strength, but Harper wasn’t going to let her get close enough to test those theories. Harper had a handle on it until one of Sharon’s heads started spitting a translucent gel-like liquid. The substance hissed when it struck the grass, so Harper knew she didn’t want it anywhere near her skin.
Ten minutes felt like an eternity. Sweat dripped down Harper’s back as she dodged viper-spit and snapping teeth. If only she could fly out of reach…
Zeke’s howl split the air as a sizzling glob of saliva struck the heel of Harper’s shoe. She scrambled backwards through the grass, kicking it off before it could eat into the rubber and her foot.
Sharon smiled, and with a disconcerting slurping sound her second head drew back into her body and her neck shrank to normal. She still towered over Harper, but she held out her hand, looking as if she had a great time trying to not-kill her.
Harper eyed her hand, then took it.
“Way to go, newbie. Guess I won’t be the one to crack your egg.” Sharon cackled and Harper rolled her eyes at the pun. Sharon waved her hand and crossed out of the circle.
“Wait, don’t we switch who attacks?”
“With new partners. Keeps it more exciting that way. We’ll have another shot at each other at another time. Can’t wait.”
Harper watched her go, wondering who would step into the circle next. There were several individuals making their way toward me. When they noticed each other, some of them broke into a run.
“Nice work against the hydra, feathers.”
Harper whirled around. Keith stood casually in her circle. Her eyes narrowed. “What do you want?”
Keith grinned madly at those grumbling about him beating them to Harper. “What does it look like? I’m set to duel you.”
“You and I already did this once. You lost.” Harper folded her arms.
Keith’s face tightened into a scowl. “That didn’t count. You didn’t know the rules yet. Besides, I’m changing my tactics.”
Harper planted her feet in the dirt, facing him head-on. “I was defender last round, it’s my turn to attack.”
Keith wiped his nose on his sleeve, jamming his hands in his pockets. “I was defender too. We flip for it when that happens.”
Harper gritted her teeth. “Fine. Get on with it.”
Keith pulled out a quarter. Harper held out her hand and marched up to him.
“I flip.”
He dropped the coin into her hand. “No problemo.”
Harper threw the coin wildly into the air overhead. “Call.”
Keith gazed up at it, watching it arch toward the ground. “Tailfeathers.”
Harper’s hands clenched tighter in their fists. Her nails bit into her palms. The coin landed with a soft thud and she ran to it. Keith sauntered, hands in his pockets, acting infuriatingly calm and good-natured. Harper leaned over the silver circle in the dirt.
Tails.
Keith laughed. “Look at that. Guess I get to choose my position. Attacker.”
“Surprise,” Harper mutt
ered under her breath, taking a few steps away from him. She spotted Zeke across the field. He seemed to have just finished talking to two other students. One was limping. Then he raised his head and opened his mouth. His howl cut through the air.
Keith stripped down to nothing but a pair of tight biker shorts and transformed into a snarling, giant ball of fury. Harper ran headlong toward him, yelling as loudly as she could, fighting the urge to shift and fly out over his head. A flash of worry shot through Keith’s eyes when he realized Harper wasn’t going to stop before they crashed. He skidded to a halt, four paws sending dirt and rocks into the air. Harper stopped too, chest heaving, staring at him, muscles tense and waiting for his next move.
He jumped.
Harper ducked, curling into a ball with her hands over her head, making herself a smaller target. He landed standing over her, belly fur brushing the top of her head. Harper uncurled and started to crawl out from beneath him. He thrust his snout under her side and flipped her onto her back. Sickeningly fast, the wolf morphed back into human form and Keith was on top of Harper, a gloating smile on his face.
Wings blossomed from Harper’s back, and she felt the song, waiting to burst from her chest. Had it really killed the rogues the other night? She couldn’t afford to use it now. Instead, she emitted a screech, thrusting Keith off her with supernatural strength. He flew at the white line, striking the invisible barrier and sending crackles of green rippling out over a sphere-like shape that encompassed the dueling ring. He crashed to the ground face-first, but picked himself up immediately, shaking his head.
Zeke’s howl marked the end of the round, and the bubble around them disappeared.
“Got you that time, birdie.”
Harper wanted to clean the smirk off his horrid face. He wouldn’t be smiling if he knew how close she’d been to killing him.
Harper flew higher into the air, wanting nothing more than to get away from his smug grin and that stupid circle and the stifling confinement of this prison disguised as a summer getaway. She flapped her wings, enjoying the stretch and the air on her face. She climbed higher where it was thin and cold and would be difficult for anyone else to breathe. The skies stretched from horizon to horizon on the cloudless day. The field and lodge lay below, its residents milling about. Some of them gazed and pointed up. Beyond them lay miles of forest and a tiny road winding down the mountain.
