Rain hammered the metal roof of the car. The back door popped open and Galateya spilled out into the deluge. She straightened, water plastering the neon pink "Thot Patrol" shirt to her skin. She shivered, scales rippling to shed the moisture, and stomped toward the café entrance.

  I reached for the door handle.

  My hand never made contact.

  The driver's seat became empty in a blur of motion.

  Sage appeared at the rear door before my brain processed her movement. Rain slicked her hair down.

  "Yoink," she said.

  Hands strong as hydraulic clamps gripped me. She hauled me out of the leather interior like a sack of potatoes. I let out an undignified yelp as the world tilted. Rain lashed my face for a split second before Sage tucked me against her chest, carrying me bridal style.

  “I can…” I began.

  "Noppers," she commented to the storm. "My prize needs express transport."

  She kicked the car door shut with a wet thud and bolted.

  We cleared the distance to the porch in two flash-strides. Sage whisper-clicked something at the door, her earrings flashing and the door lock snapped open, the door opening by itself.

  Galateya and Sage carrying me went in.

  Sage kicked the stained glass door shut with a mud-caked paw, sealing us inside the dry, coffee and book scented sanctuary of Books and Nooks.

  Rain drummed a frantic rhythm against the glass panes.

  "Home sweet lair," Sage sighed. Her face and body rapidly foxed up, red fur blooming all over including the arms holding me.

  Galateya looked at Sage, then at me dangling in the fox’s arms.

  "Hey, uhm, where’s the bathroom?" the dragon asked. "I’d like to make myself presentable. I fear this shirt is..." She looked down at the glittery text. "...a fashion crime."

  "Upstairs, the door on the third floor with foxes on it." Sage chortled. “Bathroom has a poster on it of a fox in a bath.”

  “Thanks.” Galateya vanished up the stairs.

  Sage looked down at me. Her snout wrinkled, black nose twitching as she took in my scent.

  "You look comfy," she yipped. A low, thrumming purr started in her chest, vibrating against my ribs. "Could just carry you upstairs. Put you in my nest. Keep you there… forever."

  "First, I would like to eat food that isn't moss or questionable berries," I said, head lolling against her shoulder. "Put me down, Cujo."

  "No." She licked my nose. "I caught you. Possession is nine-tenths of the law. Skinwalker law says if I carry you over the threshold, I own your ass. Also, it’s romantic. It’s the trope! Let me enjoy boyfriend benefits damn it!”

  I rolled my eyes at her.

  The kitchen door swung open.

  Marya stood there. She wore jeans and a flannel shirt. Her hair was pulled back in a messy bun, and a few strands of brown escaped to frame a face.

  She stared at us. Her nose twitched.

  She inhaled. Once. Twice.

  Her eyes narrowed, shifting from brown to shimmering amber.

  "Ugh," she groaned. "You two reek."

  "We smell like victory!" Sage barked, tail swishing wildly. "And rain! And nature!"

  "You smell like sex and swamp water," Marya corrected flatly. She walked around the counter. "And you tracked mud on my floor."

  "Mud is an irrelevant point! I acquired a boyfriend!" Sage lifted me slightly, presenting me like a sacrifice or a particularly large fish. "Behold! A man!"

  “Hi Marya,” I said.

  Marya stopped in front of us. She leaned in, invading my personal space. She sniffed my neck, then grabbed my chin with her free hand, turning my head side to side.

  "Dilated pupils," she noted clinically. "Heart rate elevated. Smell of fox musk all over him." She glared at her sister. "Sage. Did you Charmchain him into a vegetable? Is he enthralled?"

  "No!" Sage’s ears flattened. "He likes me! It was a consensual hunt! A romantic kidnapping! You were there when I planned it!”

  "He looks lobotomized," Marya accused. "If you broke his brain, I am not cleaning up the drool."

  "My brain is fine," I managed to say. "Just tired."

  Marya ignored me, focused on her sister. "He's human, Sage. You blast a human with full-bore Charmchain during... activities... and they turn into love-sick zombies. Look at him. He's letting you carry him like a bride."

  "He likes it!" Sage insisted.

  "I am too tired to fight gravity," I corrected. “I’m not enthralled, just too tired to resist.”

  Marya paused. She looked at me. “You’re sure? You smell pretty devoted.”

  “Only the front of my mind,” I said. “The back mind is perfectly capable of… stuff.”

  “Prove it,” the older Skinwalker demanded.

  "Your sister," I yawned, "has an obsession with garbage televisions and calls it an aesthetic. She has a rotting shack in a forest where she forces guests to wear clothes that insult their intelligence."

  "Hey!" Sage looked mildly offended. "Sagetopia is horror-vibes rustic chic! And the Thot Patrol shirt is vintage!”

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  Marya blinked. The amber faded from her eyes. A corner of her mouth twitched upward.

  "You are lucid," she decided, releasing my chin. “I think. Hrm. It’s the damndest thing. You’re mentally completely broken, yet you’re insulting her. Very odd. I’ll have to do more tests later, I suppose.”

  “We don't need no tests!” Sage insisted. “I'm not a kid damn it! Quit parent-coptering me! I'm not even a virgin anymore!”

  "Uh-huh, good job, Sanguine,” Marya said. “You didn't break him. You’re improving. Remember what mom said…”

  “His unbreakable-ness got nothing to do with me, sis,” Sage stated. “Also no.”

  “What do you mean no?”

  “I’m keeping him forever, is what,” Sage stated in Gollum-like tone. “Forevah. One million years dungeon! He’s my precious!”

  "He is temporary,” Marya insisted. “You know the rules, Sanguine. Mom made them for a reason. You play house for a month. Maybe two. Then the hunger gets too loud. Then the affection turns into appetite. Then you start wondering what his soul tastes like."

  "Wat? I would never!" Sage gasped, clutching me defensively.

  “Sup guys, what are we arguing about?” Fennel descended into the dining area. Sage’s brother looked human and was wearing a vintage, blue cardigan and holding a half-eaten cream cheese bagel.

  “Sage,” I commented. “I would prefer to stand on my own two feet while we discuss my devouring, slash, expiration date."

  Sage huffed. A sharp exhalation of air ruffled my damp hair. "Fine. Use your leg muscles. Reject my amazingly sexy chivalry."

  She slowly released her grip.

  My borrowed boots hit the wooden floorboards with a heavy thud. My knees buckled, turned to jelly. I grabbed the edge of the table to keep from face-planting into the linoleum.

  "See?" Sage hovered, hands ready to snatch me back up. "Wobbly newborn deer. You need me."

  "I am fine," I gritted out, forcing my spine straight. The world spun once, then settled. I flipped over the nearest chair and sat down. “Just a little tired after all the… running.”

  Sage grabbed the chair opposite me.

  “Guess what, Finn! I got a boyfriend! Told you he wasn’t married!” The fox waved a hand at me.

  “Hum?” Sage’s brother stared from me to her.

  “He’s the dude I told you about a year ago! The bruh from Emerald City comicon! He didn’t write to me 'cus I was too hot, the friggin’ nerdlet!”

  “Don’t blame me. You had too many butt pics online,” I said.

  "It is called marketing!" Sage slammed her hand on the table, rattling the salt shaker. "And it is art! My glutes are sculptures! Do you know how many squats I do? Thousands! I have an ass of steel."

  “What, you actually work out?” I wondered. “Doesn’t your ass self-adjust itself to observer expectations? Hrm. Do fat Skinwalkers even exist?”

  “Mom’s getting kinda round.” Sage shrugged, which earned her a glare from her siblings.

  “She’d be a sphere if she was a human. Always snacking on her own cakes,” she added. “Doctors hate this one weird trick: be a monster. But for realsies, working out totally helps get stronger. Even if you are a Skinwalker and can already bench press a train.”

  “Do you bench press trains?” I wondered. “Are your gym weights made from dark matter?”

  “Nah bro,” she said. “I run real fast. Like to Alaska and back in an afternoon. Then, after I’m really mega tired I do squats!”

  "I’m not kidding around, Sanguine," Marya stated. "You think this is a game. You think it ends well. It doesn’t."

  "It ends with me getting a boyfriend," Sage insisted, crossing her arms. "And maybe a bigger flatscreen TV for Getflix and chill time with my expanded skulk."

  "It ends with a funeral," the older sister corrected. She looked at me. "I almost ate my previous boyfriend. The longer you’re with someone, the worse the urge gets.”

  I stared at her.

  “We are monsters, Ash,” Marya sighed. “We consume. We mimic. We pretend. But the damned hunger always wins. Always. You smell like sweat and adrenaline now. Novelty. Excitement. Give it a month. You will smell like food. Only... food. A walking sack of protein waiting to be unzipped.”

  “One day she won’t be able to fight it and… crunch,” Fin pantomimed. “Nom nom nom.”

  “Ash is different,” Sage insisted. “He has… three other girlfriends! Two Omnids and one prad!”

  “What?” Fin chortled. He sniffed me. “Hrm. True. You’ve got some kind of harem going, dude?”

  “Sorta… I guess.” I shrugged. “Haven’t gotten eaten thus far. I probably taste terrible. High cholesterol. Microplastics."

  "He jokes," Marya observed, shaking her head. "He stares into the mouth of the wolf and makes quips."

  Fennel took a bite of his bagel. "Let the boy breathe, Mare. If Sage eats him, we just hide the bones in the septic tank like the last one."

  "There was no last one!" Sage yelped. "Stop ruining my date! Shoo! Wait, no. No shoo. Please make noms, we’re mega-starved from the forest bonkage."

  Footsteps thudded down the stairs.

  Galateya descended. She looked dry and presentable, once again wearing the pink frilly dress designed and fabricated by Kawathra.

  “Awww, you’ve forsaken the funny shirt,” Sage complained.

  “It seemed like too much for hanging out with your family,” Galateya stated. “Also, hello. It’s good to see you all again. I, urm… Sorry I froze your café earlier today.”

  “S’fine,” Fin said. “Glad you’re feeling better and that the forest hunt worked out.”

  Sage got off her chair, grabbed a third chair and pushed Galateya onto it. Then she got into the dragon's personal space and nuzzled against her. “Hugses?”

  Galateya wrapped her hands around the Skinwalker, blooming with green moss all over.

  “T-bun, you’ll protek me from anyone, right?” Sage whispered. “BFFs forever?”

  “What am I protecting you from?” Galateya wondered.

  “These two meanies,” Sage huffed in the direction of her siblings.

  “Sage…” Marya began. “I’m not being mean. I’m simply clarifying things for you. Skinwalkers and humans can’t have long term relationships. This is a fact of life. Humans have no soul defenses like Omnids. Even if Galateya and his other girlfriends watch him twenty four seven you’re going to snap one day and…”

  “Chew his face off,” Fin added. "He's already looking like he lost a box match with ten kangaroos."

  I scratched an aching bruise on my chest.

  "Right now, he smells like sweat and rain. Pheromones. It registers as attractive. Exciting." Marya’s nostrils flared. "But give it time. The novelty fades. The biological imperative kicks in. The sweat stops smelling like sex and starts smelling like marinade."

  Fennel nodded. "Like bacon frying in the next room when you haven't eaten in three days. You start salivating when they walk in. You start staring at their arteries instead of their eyes."

  "I have amazing self-control!" Sage protested, burrowing deeper into Galateya's side. “The café has consistent customers, you ain’t eating them!”

  “We don’t sleep with our customers,” Fin clarified. “Sex wobbles the physical, entwines souls.”

  Sage gritted her teeth. I drummed my fingers on the table.

  "You're wrong," I said.

  Marya scoffed. "Oh, the human kobold explains our biology to us. Please, professor. Educate me."

  "You eat souls because you're starving for connection," I stated. "Same principle as the Wendigos. They feed on fear because it's a high-octane emotion that bridges the gap between their astral nature and the physical world. You guys? You feed on intimacy. Souls are just... the dense, final nugget of intimacy. The package wrapped in skin."

  The older sister stared at me.

  "You eat the whole cake because you don't know how to just eat a slice," I continued, leaning forward. "You binge. You purge. You kill the host. It's inefficient. Sustainable harvesting doesn't mean eating the livestock. It means milking the cow, keeping the cow alive.”

  "Did he just call himself a cow?" Fennel asked Sage.

  "A very sexy cow," Sage muffled into Galateya's hand.

  “We don’t eat anyone,” Marya stated coldly. “We break up with humans as soon as the urge begins. We don’t let it grow.”

  “Do you know how to keep a detached soul alive inside you?” I asked.

  “Not possible,” Marya said.

  “Yeah,” Fin agreed. “That's simply not how Skinwalkers work.”

  I glanced at Sage. She melted deeper into Galateya and then seemed to build up her courage. “I can keep a soul alive in me without dissolving it.”

  Marya looked like someone had just told her that gravity was optional and she’d been walking on the floor like a sucker for seventy years. “You… what?”