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The moment a child took their first breath, their Beast appeared. It would be an anxious, flittering thing, shifting rapidly between various animal forms. By the time they had said their first word, most children's Beasts would have settled on a single animal form, one that somehow reflected their personality and would go through life with them as a constant companion and confidant.
The exception, of course, as it almost always was, was children with talent. No one knew why - no one even knew why they had Beasts in the first place - but instead of their Beasts settling into one form at the age of around seven months, children with talent would see their Beasts settling for two to five forms until their talents began to fade. As a general rule, the most talented had the most Beast forms but Lucy knew that wasn't always the case. For example, she had five and her talent didn't seem all that powerful.
George had three. Up until recently, Lucy had believed Lockwood had four. Then she had learnt he had secretly had a fifth Beast form all along, a boa constrictor. She had caught sight of it after she had forced her way out of the taxi at Tyburn Gallows. Kinsey, Lockwood’s Beast, had been in the footwell and Lucy could have sworn she’d see scales rapidly disappearing into the red fur of Kinsey’s squirrel form. She’d taken advantage of Lockwood’s promise to not lie to her, asked him if his Beast did have a fifth form and he’d shown her the snake.
Lucy could understand why Lockwood had kept it hidden. There were certain stereotypes some Beast forms had. Boa constrictors were meant to suffocate and destroy everyone around them. Lucy could see why Lockwood didn't want the world to know about his Beast having that form.
But not all stereotypes were true. Take Fairfax for example.
His Beast, Whitton, had settled into the form of a lion, stereotypically noble, protective, diligent...
And it turned out he was a murderer who had lured them to Coombe Carrey Hall to kill them too. But they'd survived the ghosts and they were rushing through the house, determined to be gone before anyone else arrived.
Olwen, Lucy’s Beast, was in field mouse form, cowering in Lucy’s pocket as they raced through beautiful, dusty corridors. An otter, George's Beast, Alf, raced beside his master. Lucy could hear him chittering away, knowing that George would be able to understand every word. Leading their pack was Kinsey, in her form as a squirrel monkey, who screeched urgently as she leapt from chandelier to bannister.
As they rushed across the fine dining room, Lucy saw Ellie was blocking their path. She was Fairfax's assistant, an ex-agent who claimed her talent had faded. Her Beast, a hawk, hung on her shoulder as she levelled her rapier at the three of them. Lucy continued forward, reaching for her sword.
A gun shot made her dive for cover behind a table, a gasp pulled from her lips. A glance to her side told Lucy George had done the same. Alf had shifted, becoming a tabby cat with every hair on his body standing to attention. Lucy glanced down into her own pocket to see Olwen had shifted into a ladybug. Fat lot of good she was. She always seemed to be cowering, retreating back. Lucy knew Olwen was an extension of herself, knew all the fear her Beast felt was her own, but she desperately wished she would do something useful every once in a while.
Kinsey would never do something like this to Lockwood.
Kinsey... Lucy was sure she had heard Kinsey let out a screech of panic as the gunshot had been fired.
Had Lockwood been hurt? Was he dead?
Please, no…
Humans and their Beasts were intrinsically linked. If Lockwood died, Kinsey would disappear. If Kinsey died, Lockwood would collapse down dead with her.
Lucy dared to look over the top of her table and felt her stomach drop. There was Lockwood, standing in the centre of the floor, staring down the twin barrels of a shotgun. Fairfax held it, a grim determination set on his face.
Two metres away from them, Whitton and Kinsey were staring each other down. Even in her border collie form, Kinsey was a lot smaller than Whitton but infinitely more defiant, growling, hackles raised.
“Hands up,” Fairfax ordered.
“You,” Lockwood growled. “You brought us here to die.”
Kinsey gnashed her teeth, in sync with Lockwood. Then Lockwood’s eyes shifted onto Ellie.
"It was you in our house the other day who I stabbed, wasn't it? There's nothing old about that war wound. You probably still have a little talent left. Your Beast hasn't quite settled has it?"
Ellie said nothing but Lucy could see from the expression on her face that Lockwood was exactly right. And the nerves of the young woman were enough to prove Lockwood was right. Lucy could see a haze of energy around Ellie's Beast as it attempted to shift forms. Lockwood was right. She still had some talent left, a residual, the final drops in the bottle left. Not enough for her Beast to shift but enough that she would be able to sense a haunting as strong as the one that had just been cleared from Coombe Carey Hall.
Fairfax glowered at Ellie, a silent order to hold her nerve. Her hawk took to the air, retreating into the shadows.
Then Fairfax turned back to Lockwood. He gestured to the side with the gun, forcing Lockwood into the light. Lucy looked desperately toward George, wishing he would do something. Alf’s forms were all predators: cat, otter, fox. The only meaningful predator Lucy had was a fox and even Olwen in fox form spent most of her time cowering behind Lucy.
“I’m sure you and I can resolve this between ourselves,” Lockwood said, remarkably calmly for someone staring down the twin barrels of a shotgun. “You want your ring back. You thought you could wait till the sun comes up and get it from our pockets in the Red Room. Well, here we are. It's the hallmark that's incriminating. Something that specific. I bet you really regret buying that for Annabel now.”
Fairfax faltered for just a moment.
“No, I don’t regret buying it,” he said. “I often regret leaving it behind when I bricked her into that chimney. I knew it was monstrous. But I couldn't throw my whole life away for one mistake. Not then, not now.”
Lucy wanted to scream. Annabel had not been a mistake. She had been a beautiful, talented young woman who had made the fatal error of falling for a terrible man. Lucy saw all the images of Annabel she had seen play through her mind’s eye. Annabel and her Beast, a beautiful Arctic fox. She wasn’t some mistake. She wasn’t just some part of the story of the great Sir John Fairfax.
“Lose the rapier and give me the ring,” Fairfax snarled.
Whitton let out a low growl that seemed to make the very structure of the house shake. Lucy was sure if Olwen had a smaller form to change into, she would have.
“I can't,” Lockwood said simply.
Lucy couldn’t help but revel in the slight panic on Fairfax’s face, the way he questioned himself for a fraction of a second. Lockwood pressed on.
“I don't have the ring. We don't travel around with it. We're not insane. And I'm the only one who knows where it's hidden so, if you kill me, you will never get it back.”
Fairfax pursed his lips. And then the sort of smile that reminded Lucy of a shark crossed his face.
There was a terrible yelp from the side. Lockwood flinched, looking over to Kinsey. The border collie was pinned against the tiled floor by one of Whitton's enormous paws. The lion let out a growl that almost sounded like a chuckle as the dog thrashed beneath it, desperate to get free.
"Get him off her," Lockwood snarled at Fairfax.
"You're not in a position to be giving orders," Fairfax replied.
As if to make his point, Whitton dug his claws in deeper. Lockwood gritted his teeth against the pain, clenching his jaw.
“You’re a very powerful seer, aren’t you? I’m sure I don’t need to tell you the more powerful the talent, the stronger the bond between human and Beast. I bet you and Kinsey can’t be more than two metres apart before it starts to really hurt.”
They’d never talked distances. It wasn’t something people discussed. But Lucy knew that Kinsey never left Lockwood’s side if the two could help it, just like Olwen was utterly inseparable from Lucy. Alf could sit on the other side of the kitchen to George without either of them minding at all.
Lucy felt sick to her stomach as she heard Kinsey yelp. She watched as Whitton dragged the border collie across the floor, sharp teeth embedded in the nape of her neck. Lockwood instinctively went to follow but stopped when Fairfax gestured him back with the shotgun.
“Now, are you willing to tell me where the ring is?”
Lucy knew what it was like to be separated from your Beast. Her mother had had a nasty habit of shutting Olwen outside of rooms and into cupboards and trying to test the link between them. She’d wanted Lucy to teach her Beast to be useful, to help around the house like all her sisters’ Beasts had done. Lucy had said it hurt too much to even let Olwen be on the other side of the room. Her mother hadn’t believed her, not even when Lucy had pointed out that Olwen’s form not settling meant she had talent, that she had a stronger bond with her Beast than her non-talented sisters.
Being separated from your Beast was an all consuming agony. It was like every fibre of your body was being torn in half.
Lockwood clenched his jaw even as the colour drained out of him. He balled his hands into fists even as he began to sway. Whitton dragged Kinsey further and further, the horrific sound of the dog whimpering filling the air.
“Are you willing to-”
“No!” Lockwood snapped out. “I’m not telling you a thing.”
Whitton tightened his grip on Kinsey, claws digging in deeper. Lockwood cried out in pain, dropping to his knees.
Lucy stood.
She couldn’t help herself, couldn’t stop herself. She didn’t even have chance to think. She was just suddenly on her feet, staring at Fairfax.
He turned slowly to her, never letting the gun waver from Lockwood.
“Stop it,” Lucy said as firmly as she could. “You don’t need to hurt him.”
Lucy pulled at the chain hanging around her neck. In her pocket, she felt Olwen shift into her field mouse form and burrow downwards, quietly begging Lucy to duck back into cover. Lucy refused. She was not letting Lockwood get hurt. He deserved so much better than that.
Slowly the silver glass locket emerged. Lucy was sure Fairfax could see the ring nestled inside.
“Lucy, what have you done?” Lockwood managed, breathlessly.
“She stole it again,” George hissed.
Alf made his own disapproval very clear too.
“Lucy, what are you doing?” Lockwood demanded.
Fairfax clearly thought his voice sounded far too steady because Whitton dragged Kinsey back further. Lockwood’s breathing grew ragged and unsteady.
“It’s Annabel’s source,” Lucy answered, pulling off the locket.
She opened it up, resting it on the palm of her hand. She felt the temperature begin to drop around her.
“She's been wanting to see you for a very long time, Mr. Fairfax.”
And then Lucy threw the source. It arched through the air, sending ghostly light off. Lucy watched as Annabel slowly formed in the air before her. She stared at Lucy for a moment but the teenager wasn’t scared. She wasn’t the one who had hurt Annabel. She had done nothing but try to help her. And she was sure Annabel had some understanding of that.
Slowly the female visitor turned. Ellie took a step back, able to sense the ghost even if she couldn’t see. But Annabel wasn’t interested in her. She wasn’t interested in anyone but Fairfax.
Annabel flew through the air toward him and immediately disappeared. Fairfax began to glow with the otherworldly light and Lucy was sure Annabel was making him feel as scared and helpless as she had felt when the end had come, the same emotions Lucy had gotten horrific glimpses of when she had bonded with Annabel.
Fairfax dropped his shotgun, threw his arms out wide.
He was dying. There was nothing they could do, even if they wanted to. No adrenaline would be enough to revive him.
But he wanted the last word. He wanted to take someone with him.
Whitton pinned Kinsey with his paw once more and bared his teeth. They glinted horrifically in the ghost light, hovering millimetres from the dog’s neck.
Lucy felt her mind race. Whitton was going to kill Kinsey. And the moment his Beast died, Lockwood would too. He would be dead before he even hit the floor.
Whitton went to bite down.
Something slammed into the lion’s side. He was sent flying through the air, twisting in wild desperation. Before he could hit the hard floor, however, the ghost touch reached Fairfax’s heart. Whitton disappeared into a ball of ghostly light and faded slowly from existence. Lockwood crawled over to where Kinsey lay, not bothering with appearances when his Beast lay injured. She immediately shifted, turning into her red squirrel form so she could be collected into Lockwood’s arms. He offered her whispered comfort as he cradled her close.
Lucy turned back to Annabel, watching as she hung in the air over Fairfax’s body. She looked so mournful, as if she just wanted to have peace. Lucy crept slowly forward, picking up the ring. She closed it away, watching Annabel disappear before her.
They’d send the ring to the furnaces. Release Annabel, give her the peace she was looking for.
Ellie ran, taking her hawk with her. Lucy wanted to care, wanted to make Ellie pay for helping Fairfax, but she simply couldn’t. Her, George and Lockwood were alive. That was all that mattered to Lucy in that moment.
George had stood. Alf was in his fox form, standing guard at George’s feet. Lucy wondered if he realised that the threat was over.
“Who’s Beast is that?” George asked.
He was pointing across the room. Lucy turned to look.
Her stomach dropped. Less than a metre away from her, right by Lockwood’s side, was an enormous, muscular, striped, fully clawed tigress.
Lucy felt her relief evaporate away. Her heart began to race once more.
“Lockwood,” she managed, voice brittle. “Lockwood, get up very slowly.
Lockwood turned, because of course he did. He stared at the tiger. There was a moment of panic, a thick gulp. Kinsey pulled out of his hands, turning into her border collie to bravely protect Lockwood.
And then she calmly padded up to the tigress. She nuzzled against her, pushing playfully into her legs. A smile spread over Lockwood’s face.
“Luce, I think that’s Olwen.”
“No way,” Lucy said.
But then the tigress disappeared, shifting into a very familiar hare. Lucy watched as Kinsey and Olwen chased each other about between her and Lockwood, relishing in the fact they had survived.
“Olwen,” Lucy called unsteadily.
The hare skidded to a stop and stared up at Lucy. Kinsey turned into her magpie form and landed on Lockwood’s shoulder.
“You can turn into a tiger?” Lucy said.
“I think so,” Olwen replied.
Lucy saw the blank looks on the faces of the boys, knowing that neither of them would ever be able to understand what Olwen said.
“You’ve never done that before,” Lucy told her.
“Yes,” Olwen said, simply. “I haven’t.”
The hare blinked and turned expectantly to George. Lucy did the same.
“George, do you know what just happened?”
Lockwood offered George the same look. For a moment George spluttered. Lucy could tell he had an answer, he was just having difficulty believing it.
“There is one documented case of a person gaining more Beast forms as they grew older,” George said, unsteadily.
Lucy’s jaw dropped.
“Marissa Fittes? Are you saying I could be as powerful as Marissa Fittes?”