Page 14 of Love the Way You Lion (Rise of the Resistance #3)
The Coyote Bites The Hand That Feeds Her
SARI
I stand on the dampened doorstep, rain dripping from my jacket like a cascade of liquid silver. I raise my hand to knock again, but before my knuckles can rap against the wood, the door swings ajar. Lily’s figure fills the gap, her eyebrows knitting together in surprise and concern.
“What on earth are you doing here?” Her voice, usually so composed, carries a note of incredulity that mirrors the arching of her brows.
Rainwater drips from my hair as I lock eyes with her, the droplets a chilling reminder of my desperation. “I need your help,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
The sorrow must be etched deeply into my features because Lily’s sharp gaze softens just a fraction.
She’s always had this uncanny ability to sift through turmoil and find clarity, a beacon in the storm that so often rages within me.
If anyone can nudge the cat toward the path I need it to take, it’s Lily .
Squinting, she assesses my expression, her analytical mind working behind those calculating eyes.
She steps back, granting me entrance, though her posture remains guarded.
“Shouldn’t you be at home with Deli and everyone else, working through the steps?
” Her question is pointed, hinting at layers of unspoken conversation that we’ve yet to unravel.
But right now, her acknowledgment is a small victory—it’s an opening, and I intend to step through it.
I shuffle past Lily, the warmth of her home chasing away the chill from my bones.
She closes the door with a soft click, and I turn to her, my hands fidgeting with the hem of my soaked jacket.
“I’m trying; I am. But I’m having trouble, and I need your help to figure out how to get people to understand what I need. ”
Lily doesn’t miss a beat, her directness as reliable as ever.
With a tilt of her head, she motions me further into the house.
We navigate through a hallway that feels like a cozy burrow, lined with framed pictures and handmade tapestries that tell stories without words.
She leads me into the living room, which is an explosion of life and color.
Every surface seems to hold a story or a memory—a collection of artifacts that speak of Lily and Mercury’s shared existence.
The floor is a labyrinth of pillow forts and stuffed animals, likely the remnants of their latest imaginative escapade.
A cardboard pirate ship sits anchored near the window, its sails made from old curtains fluttering in the indoor breeze.
Books are stacked haphazardly on shelves and tables, their spines exhibiting titles from philosophical treatises to vintage comic books.
I’m not surprised.
This ordered chaos is so them—so Lily with her ability to find peace in pandemonium, and so Mercury with his knack for bringing a touch of whimsy to the mundane. It’s a living space that reflects minds unafraid to blend the fantastical with the logical, the dreamers with the doers.
Carefully stepping over a moat of blankets, I follow Lily to a couch that has miraculously escaped the siege of cushions.
She gestures for me to take a seat amidst this delightful disarray, and I oblige, sinking into the cushions.
Here, in the heart of their creative chaos, perhaps I can find the answers I seek—or at least the guidance to face the tempest outside.
Lily settles into an armchair that’s seen better days, its fabric telling tales of past conversations and spilled secrets.
“Sit down, Sari.” Her voice is even, betraying nothing of her thoughts.
She watches me with those knowing eyes that seem to peer straight through the facade I’ve been struggling to maintain.
“I got your email earlier, but I hadn’t responded because I hadn’t planned a response yet.
” She pauses, tapping a finger against her lips, a sure sign she’s pondering the weight of her next words.
“I also haven’t decided if I feel duty bound to share this with. ..”
“Deli. Yeah, I figured.” I interrupt, a little too quickly perhaps.
The idea of facing Deli’s potential wrath makes my stomach clench.
It seemed like a better idea to come and talk in person.
Face-to-face, where you can see the sincerity in someone’s eyes, or in my case, the desperation.
Lily nods slowly, her gaze never leaving mine.
She knows the stakes as well as I do, maybe better. And she understands Deli.
I shift uncomfortably on the cushion, feeling every errant feather poke at my thighs. The room is a collage of life’s whimsy and chaos, but Lily’s gaze cuts through it all with surgical precision. “Are you ready to talk now?”
She nods, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Do I need to have this conversation as a friend or as a leader of this community?” Her fingers drum on the armrest, a rhythm searching for clarity. “It’s a different hat, see, and I need to know what viewpoint I’m answering from.”
My hand lifts in a playful salute, an imaginary brim tipped in her direction. “We’ll start with a leader. Does that work for you?” I coax a smile onto my lips, willing it to spread to hers—and it does.
She chuckles, and I can see the tension ease from her shoulders, if only just a sliver. “Okay.”
I lean forward, elbows propped on knees, hands clasped as if in prayer. The weight of my words feels like boulders tumbling from my lips. “I’m struggling. I’m struggling a lot and the one constant in my world has disappeared.” My voice catches, betraying the quiver I fought so hard to control.
Her eyes soften, yet she waits, patient as the moon.
“It’s not my fault,” I continue, pressing my palms into my eyes, trying to hold back the flood.
“But my brain screams it’s my fault. I have to deal with that.
” I drop my hands and look up at her, my plea laid bare.
“But I know how to fix it and it’s a good way and I need to do this.
I need to do this quest, journey, whatever. ”
Lily leans back into her chair, the creak of the old wood a stark contrast to the silence that’s settled between us. Her fingers drum on the tabletop, a staccato rhythm that seems to echo my racing heart. I don’t know what she’s going to say, but I’m worried just the same.
“I hear you need this, Sari,” she says, her gaze piercing as she leans forward, forearms resting against the weathered surface.
There’s an intensity in her eyes, a focus that commands attention.
“But you wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t faced some resistance.
You may have found some people in your circle that want to walk this path—whether for you or to get him back—but you’re mistaken if you think everyone will feel comfortable going with you. ”
My throat tightens around the words I need to say.
It’s true. The resistance has been more than just a few whispers of doubt; it’s been an outright blockade.
“You hit the nail on the head.” My voice comes out stronger than I feel.
“But I... she has to help. I need her to come with me, Lily. He needs her.”
The earnestness of my plea hangs in the air, vibrating with the silent hope that Lily will understand the depth of my desperation.
She sighs, a long exhalation that seems to carry the weight of all her unspoken thoughts.
With a graceful motion, Lily sweeps her long hair off her shoulder, letting it cascade down her back like a silken waterfall.
She shakes her head, her eyes not quite meeting mine, as if she’s searching for the right words in the cluttered room around us.
“No, you want her to come with you.” Her voice is gentle but firm, laced with an edge of disappointment that cuts through me sharper than any blade.
“I think you’re underestimating the number of people who will be uncomfortable with this resolution and what it will do to your relationships with people who have healed their wounds and finished their process to have them ripped back open with a resurrection.
” She pauses, her gaze finally locking onto mine, solemn and unwavering.
“That doesn’t even account for people’s religious beliefs that might creep in and change their views of both you and Wilde. ”
As if anyone here has been worried about that shit before—they definitely have not.
My jaw sets, stubbornness flaring up like a fire within me.
Heat prickles at the back of my neck; I can’t let her words deter me.
“Come on, Lily!” My retort is louder than I intend, and I see her eyebrows raise just slightly, a silent reprimand.
I press on regardless. “These are the same people who’ve been cheering on the cat’s magickal sleight-of-hand tricks for weeks.
They’re not that religious.” I throw my hands up, frustration spilling over.
“So what if it’s on the dark side? Taurus kills people and no one’s said a peep.
He’s swamped with sheep trying to jump into his knickers.
” I lean forward, my gaze challenging hers. “Morals aren’t the problem.”
Lily’s brow arches, sharp as a scythe in the dim light of her living room. Her lips part, and from them escapes a hiss, each word a serpent coiling around my resolve. “Why are you here? If you don’t care what will bother people, go on your journey, cleanse your soul, and get him back.”
Her challenge strikes a chord within me, rousing a mixture of irritation and desperation that I struggle to keep caged behind my eyes. “You know why,” I counter, voice firm despite the maelstrom churning inside me. “Why are you so against this?”