Alone in the kitchen now, Zach tried to keep his attention on their assigned job. Unable to help his friends and hating that fact, he hoped fervently that they were all safe, none of them in the kind of danger Theo had been in overnight, and that none of them were finding themselves changing in any way that was too terrible.

I can't believe I'm down to wishing only for that.

No. We're going to get home. We just need to get through this bit before we can get back to looking at the longer-term. Not too long, I hope. Even if it's only Saturday morning at home still, assuming that we've got that right, Heather's still terrified by now, I know it.

Even if I only get a chance to tell her what happened, I have to get back for that. How can I ask her for any more? No matter how much I love her, I can't be her husband like this, and I can't expect her to accept all of it. Or any of it.

Theo's probably right about Max and Kayla being okay with it, although I bet even for them it's not all that easy and it'll take a bit. At least Suzi's still the same sex, even if everything else changes, so there's a decent chance Levi'll be able to cope. Ditto for Ali and Wade. But this is too much to ask of Heather.

My poor kids. What are you going to think when I'm not there on Monday? One more adult let you down and abandoned you?

Are you going to think I vanished on you and Heather just like Dad ditched us, Mom?

Fuck this.

He dropped the knife, and flung the potato in his other hand at the wall as hard as he could; with a splat, it exploded into starchy white fragments flying everywhere like shrapnel.

The three things that matter most to me, the three things that trust me and depend on me, you've taken away from me! You're hurting Heather and you're hurting my kids and you're hurting my mom! All for your fucking experiment that they don't know or care about!

Dishes made a much more satisfying noise when they struck the wall. He shielded his eyes with one arm, and threw another bowl at the fridge. Sharp-edged white shards, millions of pieces, beyond any hope of repair. Very much like his life.

The next bowl he hurled at the wall right beside the door to the main hall, leaving a razor booby-trap for whoever next came through that door. He was too close to it, some of the shards ricocheted back in his direction.

That didn't matter. They only bounced off his scales.

Violet ones, much the colour of the clothing that had never felt like it really counted, though with a hint of pale gold shimmering across them when the light shifted. They were much better than the flimsy material had been, reaching right down to his feet and onto the backs of his hands, though he could feel areas where they thinned out to bare skin. Nonetheless, they armoured his entire torso up to his collarbone and most of the surface of his limbs.

Some small still-rational part of his mind tried to point out that there was something important here, something he should be paying attention to, but it was drowned out, no more able to penetrate the fermenting rage and grief than the glass shards were able to penetrate his scales, no matter how much force lay behind his throws.

Which was good, because he snatched up a pair of mugs from a shelf and threw them, then two more in quick succession.

The long heavy table in the centre of the room was surprisingly easy to fling up on its edge, and the matching benches that normally stayed tucked under it felt as light as patio chairs as he hurled them against the far wall.

He leaped up onto the counter next to the stainless-steel fridge, hooked both hands behind it and braced himself. Industrial-sized as it was, it resisted his efforts at first; he shifted his grip, dug his toes into the marble-pattern laminate of the countertop as readily as into sand, his tail moving to help his balance, and pulled steadily until at last it gave way and crashed over. Glass broke inside, and liquid of varying colours began to seep out around the doors.

He jumped down and spun to face the swinging doors, grabbing a plate in each hand and vaguely aware of his tail lashing threateningly back and forth, as they were pushed open from the far side.

“What the hell is going on down here?” Barry demanded.

“My kitchen!” Felix bellowed.

Barry.

You tried to hit JC.

You. Don't. Hit. GIRLS!

The plate in his right hand spun towards the groundskeeper like an oversized china ninja star even as the thought finished forming.

Barry stumbled back, and tripped over Felix who couldn't see the missile coming past him. He did manage to get behind the door enough that the plate shattered against it instead of striking him, but judging from the profanity, at least some of the shrapnel had connected.

That was encouraging. Good motivation to keep going. Which he did.

Some items were certainly more aerodynamic than others, but he'd take whatever he could get.

“Where the fuck's Isabel when she'd actually be useful?” Felix spat. “I'll get Phrixos. This one's lost it. Should just kill her now and be done with it. Been trouble right from the start.”

I am not a 'her'! I don't care what's happened to my body, I'm me and I'm a man!

But you don't see below surfaces anyway, do you? Shallow fucking bastards like you are the ones that hurt my kids and their mothers all the time, make them scared to sleep at night, scared to trust adults or men, or just use them and walk out when it suits you and leave them to fight for survival alone. All you give a shit about is yourself and what use everyone else is to you.

He groped for another missile without looking away from Barry, who was watching warily around one of the two doors and beginning to shift a bit uncomfortably from the glare fixed on him. Blood speckled the big groundskeeper's face and visible arm, trickled down one cheek, which gave Zach a grim pleasure. If he moved to the right a few feet, he'd have a better angle, might be able to actually hit Barry directly and do some damage before getting close enough for a more hands-on attack. Given the strength of this fae body, despite the altered anatomy, he was sure he could break at least a few bones if not his neck.

Make the world a better place, with one less like you in it!

The jagged shards crunched under his bare feet but didn't dig in, no more uncomfortable than tumbled riverbed gravel, as he circled to the side.

Barry drew back a further step, and caught hold of the other flap of the door to shelter him more.

Coward! Try to hit a girl, gang up on men only when you aren't alone, but you won't fight someone who can fight back!

He flung both of the drinking glasses, only a split second apart, one with each hand; they exploded against either flap of the door, and Barry barely jerked them closed in time to once again avoid being hit.

While the glasses were still in the air, Zach darted across the floor towards him.

He was moving too fast to dodge the net of glowing red that coalesced out of the air right in front of him. It wrapped around him, tangling him in its folds, and he crashed to the floor, still short of his goal. Nor did the net stop there; he was sure he could feel it moving and changing, wrapping him more and more tightly.

The pain the collar inflicted in retaliation for his shriek of fury and frustration was only fuel on the fire; he writhed madly, fighting the implacable restraints.

“No, we aren't killing it.” That was Phrixos' voice, from the doorway. “Although I admit, a rather strong cage comes to mind. It's valuable for exactly the same reason that it's trouble. It's rather reptilian, let's see if bringing the temperature down will help.”

Zach shook his head hard, much shorter hair stinging his face briefly, in an effort to resist the subtle chill creeping into his body, slowing his thoughts, numbing the unbearable pain that had spawned the explosion of rage.

There was no escape from it. The rapid thunder of his heart began to slow, and his breathing with it; instead of struggling to get free, it became a struggle just to stay conscious.

Finally, he lost against that, as well.

The last thing that registered was Felix snarling, “Who's going to clean up this mess?”