I never meant for anything to happen.

Becca's story left us both vulnerable and I had no power or desire to reject her as her anima bloomed into fields of spiraling violet and bright fairy lights. I laid back while she took the initiative, first kissing me, then straddling my legs. The shy girl I knew had flown, leaving behind her bold and confident twin.

She slipped aside the straps of her overalls and pulled off her shirt before kissing me again and I pressed my hands against her breasts. It was an act of welcoming, and I would have gone much further if we hadn't been interrupted.

"Tom, we need you downstairs!" Amy's voice echoed through the vents and I sat upright, nearly dislodging Becca.

"What's wrong?" she asked, casually pulling on her top as though nothing unusual had happened.

"Your guess is as good as mine."

She climbed off my lap and I left her to finish putting herself together. Once on the catwalk I could plainly hear the commotion below.

"Get off me, bitch! Get off!"

"Maldita sea la madre que te parió! The hell's wrong with you?"

I hadn't heard Rachel slip out of English in months. By the time I reached the foot of the stairs, a small crowd had gathered around her while she sat atop Katherine, pinning her to the kitchen floor. They weren't trying to hurt each other, but it wasn't a friendly wrestling match.

"Rachel, let her go," I said, more confused than upset. "What's going on?"

"Tell your fat cow to back the fuck off."

"I'm not fat!" Katherine bucked her hips, trying to dislodge Rachel. She had no hope of succeeding, of course, but considering her opponent, I thought she was putting up a decent struggle.

"I don't think she can go anywhere with you holding her down," I took hold of Rachel's shoulders and gently pulled her away, and after a brief resistance, she let me help her to her feet while Katherine scrambled to hers. Both girls were fuming.

"Now can someone please explain?"

"She attacked me," Rachel growled. I waited for Katherine to contradict her, but instead she crossed her arms and glowered at the floor.

"I'm sorry," she answered, but there was iron in her tone.

"Attacked? How?"

"With that," Rachel nodded to the far end of the tiles where a loaf of French bread lay in pieces among shreds of lettuce and sliced tomatoes.

"She attacked you with a sandwich?"

Rachel glared. "You didn't see her, Tom. She's fucking crazy!"

"I'm not crazy," Katherine sulked. I reached for her and she pulled away. "I'm sorry, Thomas, give me a minute."

"Rachel? What happened?" I turned to her for an explanation.

"It's FIDS day, so we were just making dinner—"

"Wait, what's FIDS?"

"Fix It your Damn Self. Chloris takes Saturdays off."

"Right," I shook my head. "Go on."

"That's it. Everything was fine, then she just blew up like Vesuvius, started beating on me with everything she could get her hands on. It's a good thing I was the one holding the knife."

"Kath?"

"I'm fine!" she said angrily, then sighed and rubbed at her temples. "I'm sorry, Rachel. I didn't mean..."

"You damn well better be."

"Katherine? What happened?" I insisted.

"I don't know." Katherine seemed to melt into her usual self. "We were just making something to eat, then out of nowhere I was just—I've never felt that kind of rage before."

"Rachel didn't do anything?"

"Fuck you, Tom," Rachel said, taking a swing at my arm.

"No, she just tackled me afterward." Katherine leveled a glare at her bestie. "I'm going to have a bruise on my ass for a week."

"You're lucky that's all it was. Scared me half to fucking death."

"What's happening?" Becca called from above as she scampered to join the crowd, and the handful of Fae milling around with expressions ranging from fear to shameless delight began to disperse. Katherine cast a glance at her before turning back to me, her eyes heavy with concern, and I had a sudden inspiration.

"You felt it, didn't you? I was angry and you soaked it up." I asked quietly.

"Angry about what?"

"Shut up a second, Rachel," Katherine snapped, then nodded to me. "Yeah, are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I think we're both fine now."

"Will someone clue me the fuck in?"

"Rach..." Katherine and I both shot her a look and she uncharacteristically backed down.

"It's over now," I said. "Let's get this cleaned up and forget it happened."

Rachel huffed, "I had better be getting answers from one of you."

"Answers about what?" Becca walked past and began reflexively scooping up handfuls of shredded lettuce.

"I couldn't filter it out, Thomas," Katherine said, bracing herself against me, "It came out of nowhere and just took over."

"You've never lost control before."

"There's never been anything to control. When I sense what you're feeling it's like watching a movie. My mood can be influenced by it, but I've never actually experienced it."

"Until now."

"Wait," Rachel interrupted, "All that was from Tom?"

"And Becca."

"Me?" Becca turned. "What did I do?"

"You didn't do anything, sweetie," Katherine assured her. "This one's on me. Apparently I have something new to figure out." Then she leaned closer to me and whispered, "I need details. Whatever that was..."

I nodded, but had no intention of sharing Becca's past. Some secrets weren't mine to reveal, which was ironic considering how much grief I'd given Miss Gold over that exact sentiment.

"Fine," Rachel scowled around the room, "if you're not going to fill me in, can I at least finish lunch?"

A couple of the Fae stayed to help the girls clean, and unfortunately, one of them was Almithara, the maenad who could intoxicate with a touch. I kept the bar between us as a precaution, but she was demonstrating uncharacteristically good behavior, working diligently, and even preparing new sandwiches for Rachel and Katherine. If not for her shady grin, I'd have been relieved.

My heart skipped a beat when she closed in on Katherine and placed a hand on her shoulder. I had to remind myself that she could use her abilities—and shut them off—at will, and that she wasn't likely to openly compromise my girlfriend, the woman most of the Fae saw as their queen. They whispered together while I swept the floor, casting occasional glances my way like conspirators.

Overcome by suspicion, I opened my senses to them. Admittedly, I was no expert at reading a person's anima and as far as I knew, there was nobody who could teach me to interpret them. It was different from an aura, which was simply the measure of a person's will, fingerprints on the Veil. The anima went deeper, representing the ethereal self, the entire weight of their being against the continuum and the world around them. It was a network of gates and pathways to and from the psyche, a living, dynamic world of color and scent and sound, with complexities I had yet to discern, and I could only see them in part. My ability was frustratingly restricted by the heritage of the gean canagh, which gave me access only though primal passions—affection and lust in women, fear and contempt in men.

But I'd come far enough to notice changes with a person's disposition. There's no easy way to describe it except through impressions or concepts. A wilted forest, a desert sun, playful waterfalls, inner ghosts, or some other nonspecific idea.

Of all the Fae in Meridian, the animas of those two women were most aggressive, actively pulling at me when my guard was down, so trying to read them simultaneously was probably a mistake. The world around me seemed to drift out of focus, replaced by streams of amber light and a deep, forest-green mist. What I actually saw is difficult to explain. Nothing changed within my field of vision, but intense impressions that passed for sights and smells overlaid both women, one glowing like an angel in the sun, the other radiating a verdant hunger.

Then Katherine turned.

Instead of their natural hazel, her eyes shone a brilliant green and a vicious scar ran down the side of her face from temple to chin. The vision came so suddenly I startled and nearly fell. Subtle fingers of thought took advantage of that distraction and began teasing loose the knot of power in my head, and while I managed to rein it in, my efforts drew stares from the half dozen girls in front of me. All of them were vulnerable and most had sampled that power in one way or another. Though none of them collapsed or cried out, they knew I wasn't in complete control.

"Are you well, my lord?" Almithara spoke first, though her tone was more teasing than concerned.

"Fine," I answered as the pressure receded.

"Okay, Tom, enough with the secrets," Rachel demanded, "First you light up the prof like a Christmas tree, then Kath goes ape shit, now this. I thought we were past all this."

"I thought so too," I said, rubbing my eyes. "Maybe I'm just stressed." The visions fell dormant, and when I looked up, Katherine's face had returned to normal.

"Maybe," Katherine said with a glance at Almithara. "But we need to talk."

Rachel shook her head. "Not without me and Becks."

"You're right," Katherine agreed. "This affects everyone. We need to hold a council."

Our council consisted of the four of us, Katherine, Becca, Rahel and me, and a few of the Fae we trusted most, including Amy, Zeffie, Meg, and Saphielle. Almithara was also present, drawing objections at first, but Katherine insisted she stay.

"My lady is a familiar," Saphielle said, her voice serene and her eyes distant.

"A fam what?"

"Familiar," Becca clarified. "Like... witches keep black cats to help them learn spells."

"No, no way," Rachel shook her head emphatically. "Kath isn't ending up riding shotgun on some bitch's broomstick."

The Djinni smiled patiently. "You refer to the practice of enchanting an animal as a proxy. For a time in your history, human mages used this method to attempt communication across planes or with immaterial beings, cursing themselves in the process."

"Curse?" Becca asked, chasing down, as always, any new information about magic and the Fae.

"The few who succeeded merged their consciousness with the creature, effectively becoming bi-corporeal. As entertaining as the thought of having two bodies might be, it is, in reality, quite distracting."

"So what does that have to do with Katherine?" I asked impatiently.

"Nothing, my lord. A genuine familiar is a conduit, a living medium between two ore more entities. I have never encountered this ability in a human, but I can clearly see the weave of the continuum within her aura."

"We've always assumed I've been reading people," Katherine sighed, "surface feelings and impressions, but Almithara noticed I was struggling and made the connection. I wasn't just picking up your emotions, Thomas, I was feeling them like they were mine. Becca's too. It was overwhelming."

"Who's to say that you do not have the blood of a changeling in your heritage?" Almithara suggested, her expression greedy. "My lord's own existence is the product of bridled chaos. Perhaps your union has drawn some hidden potential to the surface?"

"Doubt it," Meg interrupted with a thoughtful scowl. "Tom isn't an actual Chthonian, he's a hybrid. Everything he is and can do is built on a framework. That doesn't scream chaos to me."

"Hybrids are a fiction," Amy said.

"Obviously not."

"I must agree with the hag," the Djinni interrupted. "I will not presume to understand my lord's nature, but there is no hint that he has called forth a latent power. Whatever gift she possesses is new to her and independent of his direct influence."

"Then what does this mean for her?" I asked. "Is there a way to cure it?"

"It is not a disease, my lord, it is a facet of her being. Evidence would suggest it was called forth by your union, but I can not say how such a thing is possible." Saphielle inclined her head thoughtfully. "A true familiar can project as well as receive. With training, one may weave the inner thoughts and feelings of many as though they are one. This is, perhaps, a powerful gift."

"Is that what happened with Jackie?" Becca asked and Katherine's eyes widened. When Jacqueline, Rachel's replacement RA, lay dying in the grass with a knife lodged in her throat, Becca and I had somehow worked together to heal her, though neither of us knew what we were doing. Most of the Fae had heard the story.

"Perhaps," Saphielle said, "but this sharing would endow you only with the knowledge of the collective. It would not grace you with new understanding."

Katherine sat on the edge of the bed, apparently in shock, with Becca offering comfort as though she'd just been diagnosed with a disorder.

"Is it dangerous?" I asked when nobody else spoke up.

"Power without control is always dangerous," Saphielle answered with a faint shrug. "Risks will be mitigated by understanding, and understanding comes with experience."

"I'm starting to understand why Thomas is so hesitant to use his abilities," Katherine sighed. "I could handle a little eavesdropping once in a while, but this is invasive. I wouldn't dream of pushing what I just felt into someone else's head."

"My lord is best equipped to manage complex thoughts and feelings that originate outside his experience," Saphielle suggested. Katherine didn't openly object but I recognized her hesitancy and felt a little vindicated for months of waffling over the power that nested in the back of my mind.

"However, a certain caution is merited," the Djinni continued. "A familiar can become addicted to the emotions they experience through others, leading them to manipulate events to sate their desire. Cupid was not an angel or a god, he was a familiar that loved vicariously, and as those feelings of infatuation waned, he moved on, taking his passions with him. He was a creature of heartbreak more often than harmony."

It sounded like the gean canagh, and I wasn't comforted by that thought. I knew what Katherine must be feeling better than anyone else in the room, so I sat next to her and took her hands in mine.

"We'll figure it out," I told Katherine. "I somehow managed to avoid destroying the world, and you're a lot smarter than I am."

She squeezed my hand and returned a weak smile. "Well, if I really am a 'familiar' you won't get a better excuse to start calling me Kitty."