back into the room, they were just looking at her with pity, without animosity. They did not feel what she is, the fault of the drugs injected into her blood. I know the effects of pharmaceutical molecules on the blood of fatel people. Besides, it was better. They could have been scared, angry, or whatever. The disappearance of the fatels is no secret to anyone, unlike the fact that some have survived. And the way the tall brown, Connor, was staring at her when I got back into the room. He was not aware of it, but it looked like there was a connection between them. I have already seen this in animorphs, between two soul mates, but never between an animorph and a fatel. My talent is of little use to me with metamorphs. Their spirit, inhabited by their animal, is difficult to read, and requires an insane amount of energy to be effective, but I was ready to bet on my life that I could trust him about Sevana. Who would watch over her for me? Now I doubt it. What if I misinterpreted what I perceived? Gene therapy should have already cured her and the Black pack has not re-emerged in the area since she was no longer there. So why didn't she come back? Is she still in danger, pursued by rabid and unscrupulous beasts? Did the Blacks catch and exterminate her the way they wanted, which would explain why the pack was made to be forgotten? Or worse yet, have I given her to monsters wanting to use her? I am well placed to know that certain dissident packs have no limits in killing the fatels. No, some were even more cruel. They captured and sequestered them, using the peaceful members of this people until their death, in endless suffering of course.
When I told Peter about animorphs working for the governor, he was not surprised. He assured me that I didn't have to worry, that the Guardian Angels pack would protect her from all odds. I had never heard of this pack, but my alpha persuaded me that Sevana was safe with them. He is of course not aware of the particularity of my friend, but Peter never lied to me and he was sure of himself. Objectively, a pack that respects human life and fights against rebel animorphs would probably do no harm to a fatel. Besides, I have every confidence in Peter's judgment. He is a benevolent and altruistic chef, even if you don't have to trust appearances. He is the quiet force that possesses the power of a buffalo and the cunning of a hyena. It is better not to be his enemy. Fortunately for me, he is always on my side. Normal, he considers me as his daughter, just like Sam.
The thing that bothers me the most is that I don't know how to contact Sevana and that Guardian Angels territory is hundreds of miles from here. Too bad, if I don't hear from her by the end of the week, I'll go there and no one will stop me from seeing her. I did some research. It seems that one can enter their territory only by invitation, but I will deploy all my power if necessary to persuade them to let me in and see my best friend, even if I pass out at their door. Once unconscious, they will be forced to bring me in to look after me. And say that I regularly harassed her so that she would go out, meet and open up to the world. She certainly has other priorities today, and her distrust of others has yet to grow. I'm not ready to be able to introduce my family to her. Such a waste!
In the meantime, I take my service by closing my mind to everything around me. It is better. Between the pain of the patients, the anxiety of the visitors and the dirty thoughts of the doctors who imagine us naked under our hospital gowns, I would go crazy if not! It is not always good to know what people think.
I hate taking the plane. The expression "feeling like a caged lion" makes sense to me. My pet goes around in my head and demands to be released. I will not have a choice. My feline is far from being docile, it is wild and difficult to control, and feeling locked in a flying tin can for several hours made it mad. It keeps roaring and scratching my skin from the inside to force me to make room for it. It becomes painful and metamorphosing in the city would be a bit annoying.
– Sean, stop snorting, you make the stewardess uncomfortable. They will eventually run away.
Indeed, Owen is right. We wait on the tarmac until our rental car finally arrives and the staff look at me from afar, eyes wide.
– Liam would have loved it. These girls in uniform are quite to my taste. Unluckily he couldn't come. Connor wanted his presence, as well as that of Nate, in the territory to protect Sevana. As if she needed us to defend herself! She is able to kick the buttocks of our enemies just by raising a hand. She is in no danger.
It is true that Liam and Owen are an inseparable duo, both professional and personal. No mistake, however, they are not in a relationship, but they like to share the same partner. Go find out why. I'm more an exclusive type. I want to have a partner who belongs only to me. I must admit that I envy Connor for finding his soul mate. I aspire to find mine one day. But I doubt I can do it. Or at least to please her. I know myself. I am too serious, too focused on my work and the pack. I put everything else in the background, as for my lion, it is aggressive and has no subtlety. It would be able to scare or grumble at our partner, at least. It’s not ideal for finding and winning the love of your life.
Owen gets me out of my gloomy thoughts with a nudge in the ribs.
– Look, there is a wood bordering the airport. Let's free our animals before that you disembowel a human by mistake.
Um, disembowel, my lion's favorite technique. It loves to open its opponents up and down to kill them. For it, it is a clean and fast operation. Animorphs are no secret to anyone, but indeed, some humans, by frequenting us only with our human appearance, forget that we shelter within us a wild and formidable animal, and it would be unfortunate if one of them take a fatal claw spreading his guts to the ground, because he would have made me jump or said a wrong word.
We stop at the edge of the wood, we get undressed so as not to disintegrate our clothes during processing, and let the metamorphosis take place. It happens quickly. The bones snap, the skin stretches, the fur covers us, and I find myself next to a black panther in place of Owen. His animal is superb, all in finesse, unlike my lion which is of a large and imposing stature. I start by shaking my head to snort my thick mane and sniff the air, looking for a possible threat. Beta reflex. Nothing. The smell of the trees around us, moss and bitumen behind me. There are the essence of some animals, but my lion is not afraid of them. I start jogging, enjoying my legs, and play with the ground by planting claws several times. I love the feeling of being one with nature. Owen chooses this moment to jump on my back. Unlike me, he doesn't want to take advantage of this moment to relax, but to let off steam and for that, nothing better than a good fight. It may well weigh less than me, its weight, combined with the fall due to the height of the tree on which it was perched, makes me lose balance by taking my breath away and we roll on the side, legs intertwined. I take advantage of its confusion due to our rolled-up to bite it on the skin of the neck while standing up and I push a fierce roar that makes the surrounding leaves tremble and clear away the rodents nearby. This startles the panther and bristles the back hair. I like to inspire fear in my opponents, even if in this specific case, I know that it is only an instinctive reaction in my pack companion who has nothing to fear from me, but my lion appreciates everything even. I drop my large paw on its shoulder, without taking out the claws. There is no question of hurting my friend, only of beating him up a bit by playing cat and mouse, and I expect Owen to play the role of the mouse. However, the panther does not seem to agree and gives me a kick on the side, scratching me superficially in passing, its claws not being retractable, unlike mine. I roll up my lips against it to tell it of my dissatisfaction and decide to end the fight before finding myself lacerating on all sides, as often happens during our training with Connor and the other lieutenants. To do so, I utter a new cry to destabilize it and take advantage of its momentary disorder to overturn it on its back and grab its throat between my powerful jaw. I don't hug enough to hurt it, but enough to show it who is the stronger of the two of us. The panther stops struggling, feeling my fangs on its chin strap, admitting its submission in front of me. So I release it and resume human form at the same time as him. I thank him while helping him get up.
– Thank you, I needed it.
–You're welcome. Your lion is still on the alert, but I felt that our flight had put it on
