Badlands: The Lion’s Den(8)

Flora finally came to a room near the back of the building, with a pile of flattened cardboard boxes in the corner.

She settled down cross-legged on the floor, stared at the pile of boxes, and concentrated hard.

Burn, she thought.

Nothing happened. Of course.

She pinched her arm, even though she’d tried that already. Pain didn’t seem to work. She’d jabbed herself with a pin the day before just to be sure.

Fear didn’t work either. If it had, those wolves who had just attacked her in the alley would be barbecued wolf-kabob. She was glad she hadn’t set the wolves on fire; she didn’t want them dead. She just wanted them to behave themselves.

She thought back to that summer six years ago, when her cousin Krystle had been staying with her family for the summer after a stint in juvie. Flora’s thuggish older brother Howie had attempted to fondle Krystle. She’d kicked him in the nards and run off through the field behind their house. Howie had tried to chase Krystle, and Flora had jumped on him – and the shed near the house had burst into flames, as if a bomb had gone off. Right before the fire, Flora thought she’d felt something – an odd buzz inside her, something she’d never felt before.

When Flora had looked across the field, she’d seen Krystle standing there, fists clenched, staring at the shed.

Flora had rushed off to tell her parents that she had been the one who’d set the fire, to keep Krystle out of trouble. It hadn’t helped much; her parents had shipped Krystle off to stay with another relative a few days later anyway.

With a heavy sigh, she slid behind the boxes and curled up to sleep.





Chapter Four




She woke with a start, and lay still for a long moment, scenting and listening. The sun was up, streaming through the building’s cracked, filthy windows.

She smelled someone nearby. Female bear. Well, that was good news, right? What were the odds that a female would try to mug her?

Then again, this was the Badlands. Anything was possible. She’d have to be ready to run for it.

She shifted and changed into her clothing and shoes from yesterday, and walked out the back door into an alley. A teenaged female bear shifter, in human form, was rummaging through a trash pile.

“Hey,” Flora called out. “I’ve got twenty bucks, if you need money for breakfast.”

The bear girl let out a startled shriek and jumped about a foot. Then she quickly snatched up a canvas bag that had been lying on the ground, and clutched it to her chest. The bag was filled with some kind of aromatic weeds that spilled out of the top.

She looked as if she’d be really pretty if she just took a bath – which she obviously hadn’t for some time now. Her dishwater-blonde hair looked greasy and unwashed. There was visible grime all over her face and on her baggy gray sweatshirt. There were holes in her jeans, and she wore a necklace with a big red “R” dangling from it.

She backed away. “I wasn’t stealing anything!” she cried, eyes wide with panic.

“Of course you weren’t,” Flora said soothingly. “That’s a giant pile of garbage. I’m sure you can just help yourself to it. Seriously, I’ve got enough money for breakfast if you want. My name is Flora, by the way.”

The girl fished in her pocket and pulled out a knife.

“I’ll cut you,” she said, jabbing in the air at Flora.

“Well, you’re a bear. Wouldn’t it make more sense to shift and rip me open with your claws?” Flora suggested helpfully.

The girl looked at her suspiciously and tucked the knife back in her pocket. “Why would you say that?”

“It has been suggested that I am often too helpful for my own good,” Flora conceded.

“And you just told me how much cash you have on you, and you offered to buy me breakfast when you don’t even know me, and I’m a bear and you’re a lynx. I’m pretty sure you’re crazy.”

Flora nodded. “That has also been suggested to me. More than once.”

Of course, it had mostly been in the context of, “You think you’re too good for Loren Haig? You think you’re too good for any man, for that matter? A fat nerd like you, whose own family threw her away? You’re crazy.”

“I’m Flora,” she added.

“I’m Madison,” the girl said cautiously.

Flora glanced at the bag of weeds the girl was carrying.

“I paid for that,” the girl said defensively.

Flora shrugged. “Really, not my business.”

Madison took a slow step backwards, watching Flora as if she were about to lunge for her throat. Which was just silly. Had Flora done anything to warrant this level of suspicion? She thought not.