Oh, apparently we were starting with questions. I could handle that.
“Not vampire or mage,” I said, thinking back to the few things the Brokers shared about the experiments, along with everything I overheard or notes I stole glimpses of when they weren’t looking. “They also ruled out many of the more normal and common shifter types, but I don’t know what thoseare,other than werewolf… one idea they kept coming back to was that I’m some kind of demon.”
When I mentioned this with an extreme amount of reluctance, Lysander offered me a soft smile. “Being demonic doesn’t automatically mean you’re evil, just that they wondered if your physical appearance was an illusion.”
An illusion? Being a demon scared me because, duh, everything most people knew about demons wassupposedto be scary. But if I didn’t have to be evil… then all this fascinated me. The Brokers rarely shared with us, so, I welcomed the chance to finally hear all this and be included in the conversation.
Frost waved a hand for Lysander to keep going, which he seemed eager to do. Guess he didn’t get to talk about this stuff everyday. I liked seeing him excited.
“Not all demons have horns, wings, and tails, but many do look different from humans, just as the fae do. The veil hides fae naturally but not demons, which has always fascinated me, do demons need more camouflage...” He coughed. “Not the point. Anyway, when the demon and fae live among us, they aren’t actually transforming themselves, only theperceptionof their physical appearance is altered."
I think I understood. “But shifters transform?”
“Yes, and the forms we take are all part of us. Human and fox shifter, in my case. We can’t shift into anything and everything. I can’t just become a car or a squirrel or a bonsai tree.”
“Matter has rules,” Frost agreed. “Things it can and can’t do, can and can’t become. Even when supernatural. Unlimited manipulation of a set physical form, or pure shapeshifting, is impossible. As for what category you fall under, may I…?”
With a deep breath, I nodded. I tried not to fidget when offering my soul up for him to study. It didn’t feel like anything. I didn’t notice anything. It still sucked. I let him stare anyway. I needed answers.
If I understood what I was and learned to control my powers, nobody could attempt to steal them again. Whatever my supernatural origins were, hopefully I was strong enough to protect myself.
“Are you getting anything?” Temple wondered.
“I’d like to go a bit deeper.” Frost’s face remained perfectly neutral, blinking for the first time… possibly since he entered the room. "Is that alright?"
"Uh, sure," I said.
Before having a chance to ask what ‘deeper’ meant when he was alreadystaring at my soul, everything changed.
Temple vanished, the room around us going with him. Frost and me were the only things left. We were in an empty white space.
"Interesting," he said as he noted the blank surroundings.
“What even are you?” I blurted out. None of the possible creatures in my imagination seemed to fit him.
“They call me an angel.”
“What do you call yourself?”
His lips quirked up like I asked the right question. “Frost.”
I indicated the surroundings around us. "Is this real?"
"That depends on your definition of real."
"Cool, a cryptic answer.” I muttered to myself, “Don’t have enough of those in my life."
He appeared right in front of me suddenly, holding out a black feather. “Decide for yourself.”
I grabbed the feather. Then the surroundings changed again and we were back in the bare office. Something soft brushed against my palm. I looked down. The feather was still in my hands.
Frost cleared his throat and began his assessment.
“Groups trafficking supernatural people care about getting answers fast. They can’t profit until they know what they have and get proof. This often involves resorting to dangerous methods, essentially blasting you with volatile bursts of invasive magic to produce results and shake loose secrets. Unfortunately, it usually works. The ensuing shock and aftereffects are typically manageable enough and heal in a reasonable amount of time. Minimal damage and quick results, it’s perfect from their perspective.”
Yep. That sounded like them and the experiments. Bastards.
“The mages behind this don’t need skill, just enough inherent energy or a sufficient power source,” Frost continued. “There’s only one solution for them, even in trickier cases like yours: apply more and more power. It’s only a matter of time until something goes wrong. Their goal was uncovering your hidden properties, laying you bare, so to speak.”
