Worth It

Over the next few days, the lion man brought her a sloppily made sandwich and a can of pop once a day, sniffing at her as if searching for some new scent before leaving her alone. Bethany felt more and more as if she was losing her mind to the animal that now lived inside of her. Foreign thoughts and emotions invaded her psyche. The blood and bits of flesh that littered her room no longer brought bile up her throat. The lion-man still terrified her, but now he also seemed beatable.

On the third day of her captivity, she sat in the corner of the room, rocking back and forth, trying to soothe—what she had begun to think of as—her cat that was hissing and spitting at her to be let free when the bedroom door opened. She tilted her head to peak warily over her knees.

Instead of the lion man, in walked a man and woman who looked near her age, if a little younger. Her cat-self at once recognized that the lean, green-eyed woman was like her, like the lion man.

"God, help us," the baby-face guy weakly muttered as he looked her over.

"Wait by the door," the woman whispered. "After what she's been through, I think it might be better if a female tries to talk to her first."

After a moment's hesitation, the guy said, "Okay."

Bethany ducked her head and held her breath as the woman crossed the blood-soaked carpet, her way-too-big-for-her shoes making sick sucking sounds with each awkward step she took.

"Hey," the woman said in a gentle but firm voice. "I'm Kissa and that's Harley. What's your name?"

Bethany stopped rocking and held her breath. Her cat-self liked her, but Bethany didn't trust her. Kissa could be collaborating with the lion man. Could be one of the others she had heard talking and growling and chuffing over the last two days.

Kissa brushed Bethany's hair from her face. Flinching, Bethany opened her eyes and dared to look up. Her conscience pricked her. If they weren't working with the lion man then she needed to warn them.

"He's coming back," she whispered, her voice sounding harsh even to her own ears. She hadn't spoken for days. "He's coming."

Kissa stood and walked over to the young man who smelled human. Lucky bastard. "Harley, stay in here with her. Lock the door," she said.

"What are you going to do?" he asked.

"Kill him. The only way we're getting out of here is if he's dead."

Bethany lifted her head to stare at the lion woman named Kissa. She was going to kill her captor? Kill the lion man? Her heart raced at the thought.

"I'll help," Harley said, his voice cracking.

"No." Kissa's voice came out sure and strong as if she was in charge for a very good reason. "He wants me. I can use that to my advantage."

"Are you crazy?" He pointed at Bethany who ducked her head again. She did not want their attention on her. Better to be invisible, to go unnoticed by everyone if she wanted to escape. "Look what he did to her!"

"I'll be fine. Just stay here." Kissa closed the door behind her, leaving Bethany alone with Harley.

Turning to meet Harley's eyes took a lot of courage but she did it. His face reflected the fear she felt but none of the madness. He raked his fingers through his blond, baby fine hair. "Listen, I don't know what he did to you or even if you can understand me but as soon as I hear that sicko come into the apartment, I'm going out to help Kissa fight him."

Muscles protesting, Bethany forced herself to stand and crossed her arms over her rapidly heaving chest. "He'll kill you. Or make you like him." She shuddered. "You don't want to be like him."

Harley frowned his brow crinkling, his blue eyes darkening. "I will never be like that wack job out there. And if he kills me…at least I'll die protecting the two of you."

Bethany's hand involuntarily went to the healed bite marks at the back of her neck. She was a monster now, like the lion man, like Kissa. "I'm not worth defending. Neither is she…Kissa."

Harley looked at her in disbelief. "Yeah, you are." His eyes slid up and down her shaking form. His voice gentled. "How long have you been here?"

"I'm not sure." It was her turn to frown. "I was unconscious at first. It's been three or four days since I woke up."

From the living room, the lion man shouted, "Shift!"

They both jumped in surprise. Harley jerked open the door and ran out. Bethany stared after him, frozen by fear, feeling like the worst kind of coward. The new part of her, the cat part, awoke to the sounds of fighting and demanded that she join in. Her hair stood on end. Her heart leaped and raced.

She leashed her cat, forced her down, and buried her in the deepest, darkest pit of her psyche. If she was going to fight—die—then she would do it on her terms, not on the terms of the animal now living inside her.

Forcing her feet forward, she entered the living room and gaped at what she saw. Harley lay face down on the floor, his shoulder shredded, blood pooling around him. Kissa—in lioness form—lay on her side, a long, serrated knife protruding from her chest. And the lion man…dead? Maybe. But she didn't trust it. She ran for the outer door and jerked it open. To the left, the hall was filled with lions. Dozens of them all fighting against two others who seemed to have no trouble killing one after another, after another.

One lion disemboweled another and then lifted his shaggy, dreadlocked head and stared straight at her. She met his gaze, unable to look away from his dark, golden-brown eyes. Time seemed to slow as he cocked his large, shaggy head and chuffed.

Her cat uncurled her graceful kitty body and pressed up against the inside of Bethany's skin. She felt as if a ghost possessed her when her cat peered through her eyes and preened when she saw the lion who watched them.

No! Bethany would not give in. Would not allow her cat to control her.

She slammed a fist against the wall. The pain that reverberated up her arm broke the spell of his gaze. She turned right and ran down the hall, her cat hissing and spitting at her in rage.