“We’re all animals,” Siberian murmured.  She walked over to Bentley, and Bitch hurried to give the dog the hand gesture for ‘stay’, then ‘off’ before the woman moved to touch him.  “Some more than others.  You and I, more than others.”

…she ain’t wrong.

“Philosophy shit?”

Pfft.

More like biology, I guess.

Siberian smiled, her hands tracing Bentley’s snout, the exposed muscles and horns.  “Philosophy shit.  Yes.  Touché.  An idea given meaning because people think it should have meaning.  But it’s just words, isn’t it?”

Now that’s philosophy shit.

But she has a point. The universe doesn’t give a crap about what we do or don’t define as “animals”. That’s all in the human mind.

“Sure.”

“Join me.  Stop pretending to be like them.  You know you’re bad at it.”

“I’m fine where I am.”

Are you really? What was that earlier about being so much more unhappy than the others, then?

“Mmm,” the woman smiled, her eyes lowered.  She clasped her hands together and pressed them to her chin, squishing her breasts up against her chest.

I wonder if the seductive-like behavior is just normal for Siberian or if she’s genuinely trying to seduce Rachel.

She turned, taking in the neighborhood, assessing Bitch’s territory.  “Maybe for now.  You have freedom to run, to do as you like.  It’s nice.  But you’re going to chafe at it sooner or later.  You’re going to realize that you’re still in a cage they made.  You’re still following their rules, in the end.”

I guess.

The idea left Bitch shaken.  How?  Why?  Was it some power?  From the start, she’d known what the woman wanted to express as easily as she did with her dogs.

Yeah, I do think “some power” is at work here. A power similar to your own. Or rather, a side effect of a power, similar to your own.

“You’re an animal, Bitch.” The woman gave special treatment to that last word.  Bitch stiffened.

Not completely accurate, but not wrong either.

The woman pulled away, one hand remaining to caress the side of Bitch’s face.  Her eyes were lowered again, Bitch noted.

I really do feel like this might end with a kiss at some point or other.

She was smiling lightly, her lips pressed together, teeth hidden.  Playful, gentle.  Bitch let herself relax.  It hadn’t been meant as an insult.

Nope.

More “you’re like me”.

The body contact was intrusive, but she could grit her teeth and bear it, at least until she figured out who this person was and how she could fight back.

It does seem like Bitch didn’t catch on to what Siberian was talking about when she said just “The Nine”.

Besides other reasons she might not get “Slaughterhouse Nine” from “The Nine”, I guess it’s entirely possible Bitch hasn’t heard of them.

“Acting like one of them.  Playing and losing their games, decorating yourself in their clothing and their symbols, following their rules?”

Ah, so that’s why she’s naked.

“I-” Bitch paused, “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Are you sure?

The pause was telling.  She knew it was telling.  The woman understood her, she knew.

Didn’t think so.

The woman understood her.  The thought clicked.

There we go. It’s beginning to occur to Rachel what this woman could be to her.

The way the woman moved, her body language, everything, she was making sense to Bitch in a way that so few people did.

Yep.

I definitely think something similar is at play here between the two of them, not just in how they act but also why. Siberian has definitely made note of this as well. Rachel’s brutality is not the only reason she was picked.

The woman was only a few paces away.  The question was, should Bitch retreat and put herself in an even weaker position, or did she stand her ground?

I have no idea.

She stood her ground.  The woman stepped closer, within arm’s reach, then another two paces, until her chest pressed against Bitch’s body.  She met the woman’s gaze, unflinching, until Siberian wrapped her arms around her, holding her close, resting her chin on Bitch’s shoulder.

Aww.

…kward for Rachel. 😛

“Aren’t you tired of pretending?”, the woman whispered in her ear.

Pretending what? That she’s a human?

“What?”  Bitch tried to pull away, so she could ask the woman the question to her face, but the limbs were unmoving, more resisting than steel bars would have been.

Hm… this power might be more useful than I thought. It seems fantastic for restraining victims.

Anyway, let’s get back to the less hooved side of things.

“Team?”  She hated the short answers that were coming out of her mouth, the way that they were uncertain and they put her on weaker footing.

Ah, yes, confusion. Not a good emotion when you want to appear strong.

The woman’s response carried over the flooded street, through the growls that slowly ratcheted up from the dogs as the stranger approached their owner, “The Nine.  We have only eight, not enough.  So some of us are picking people.  Then we test them.  I picked you, and I like what I’ve seen.

I’ve been watching you for weeks, now.”  She smiled again.

That’s… how long has it been since Sentinel?

Also, I’m beginning to catch on to Siberian’s speech patterns. She can speak well enough, but she does tend towards simple sentences.

Thirdly, it sounds like there’s going to be some competition here, with multiple people being picked as potential ninth members. It’s entirely possible that’s what the testing is – a battle much like the one at the mall, but with fewer people and more powers. Last one alive gets to be the new member.

Has to be a lie, Bitch thought.  Her dogs would have noticed someone following her, wouldn’t they?

I dunno, tigers can be pretty damn stealthy.

Lucy let go and backed off, moving to Bitch’s side.

“They’re beautiful,” Siberian whispered, looking at the dogs.

In their own twisted way, sure.

Bitch nodded mutely in response.

Siberian approached her, walking with a great deal of care.  There was grace in her movement, and she walked on her tiptoes, each foot carefully placed a measured distance in front of the other.  Her eyes shone through the curtain of her white and black hair.

Very catlike in a multitude of ways.

Bitch felt a moment’s trepidation.

“What…” She regretted opening her mouth the instant she did, but it was already too late.  “do you want?”

…

I accidentally scrolled a little too far while copying this, so I know the answer is a single short word, but I was already going to guess something along the lines of “you”.

In part because I was half expecting part of the reason Rachel regretted opening her mouth to end up being that Siberian kissed her, before I finished reading what she was saying.

“You.”

“I don’t understand,” she tried to inject more confidence into her answer.

Yep. It seems we have a smitten kitten, and/or a recruitment attempt.

And you know what? I could almost see this ship working out.

“Beautiful,” she whispered.  She pressed her lips against Lucy’s nose in a kiss, as if uncaring that the dog had seized her arm between jaws that could crush a motorcycle.

Aww.

I know I’m repeating myself, but it really does seem like Rachel found someone to relate to.

Except she doesn’t know quite how brutal Siberian can be.

Lucy snorted in response.

Hehe.

Then she looked at Bitch.  This time, she made eye contact, and despite her whisper, there was no-nonsense in her tone.  “Your dog lets go of me now, or she gets hurt.”

Ah, yeah, there we go.

The confidence in the tone, the authority, the fact that the woman’s eyes didn’t waver in the slightest, they made it abundantly clear to Bitch that the woman was telling the truth.  She was certain enough about it that it was worth weakening her position here.  “Lucy, off.  Come.”

Good call.