A Study In Anatomy
Part 2:
“The Menagerie”
After his disastrous encounter with a lupine classmate, Miles understands that his continued sexual interest in zetas is dangerous. When he discovers the existence of an infamous night club for like-minded people, the temptation proves too much for the human to resist. 
AUTHOR’S NOTE: This story picks up where Part 1 (“Canis Lupus Erectus”) left off. I expect to have Part 3 ready to post in mid-April 2022. 
V. Interview

The first thing Miles noticed about Coach Card’s office was how clean it was. Besides being free of clutter, every surface, from the framed degree behind the desk to the window looking out on the locker room, was free of any dust or blemish. Despite its location, the air had a subtle disinfectant smell to it. Even that was minimized by a slim, rectangular deodorizer near the door, a device often used by zetas with sensitive noses or strong scents. 

The large zeta closed the office door behind him. He wore a set of loose fitting joggers and a green Seneca East High School t-shirt that stretched across his broad chest. Like most zetas, he didn’t wear shoes. He gave Miles a quick glance, then stepped around his desk and eased into the wheeled chair on the other side. Though sturdy, the plastic and metal frame creaked under the zeta’s weight. A square slot in the back accommodated his tail, which lashed in time to the clicking of fingerpads on the keyboard. 

When Miles didn’t move or say anything, the zeta adjusted his position to face him. “Sit down, Mr. Hawley.” 

Miles considered the hard plastic chair on this side of Card’s desk. He didn’t think he’d be able to sit down in something like that for a few hours. “I’d prefer to stand, if that’s OK.” 

The coach grunted. “That doesn’t surprise me,” he said, pivoting the thin monitor so that Miles could see the video on screen. 

It was a black and white recording of what had just happened in the showers. The memory was still fresh, and the angle of the footage did not allow for much detail; Miles was shocked, however, by the brutality of the act on screen. In the recording, Alec was pinning Miles’ wrist against the small of his back, forcing his knot into the much smaller human with determined concentration. Miles couldn’t see his own face, but he knew that he had been desperately trying to get Alec to stop in that moment. Despite the poor resolution, his body was visibly shaking, overwhelmed by mixed pain and pleasure. 

In the present, Miles felt a familiar warmth in his groin. He forced it away.

He instead focused on what this recording meant or why Card was showing it to him. “Isn’t it illegal to record in school locker rooms?”

The coach closed the video and turned the monitor back to its original position. “Under normal circumstances, that would be true. The school board received permission from the state to install hidden cameras after an incident a few years ago. It’s in the paperwork parents sign at the beginning of each school year, although I suspect few actually read it.” The tiger shrugged. “We’ve never received complaints.” 

The human hesitated. There were a few things that could be unpacked there, but one in particular stood out. “What kind of incident?” 

The space between the tiger’s eyebrows wrinkled. “A human was assaulted by two zeta students.” He paused for a moment, eyes quickly sliding over Miles’ body. He understood that Card was acting in his professional capacity, but he still felt self-conscious. “Are you hurt?” 

The question was surprising, but Miles responded quickly. Alec had pushed him to his absolute limit, but he didn’t think he was actually injured. “Um. Just sore. I should be fine in a day or two.” 

The tiger waited a moment, as if giving Miles a chance to change his mind or say more. When he didn’t, the coach nodded. “OK. I’d rather not have to review all this footage, so let’s just do this the easy way. If you were both zetas or humans, this wouldn’t be as much of an issue, but under the circumstances, I’m legally obligated to ask you a few questions.” 

He waited for Miles to nod before continuing. 

“Was the encounter between you and MacCrossen consensual?” 

“MacCrossen— is that Alec?” 

“Yes. Alexander MacCrossen. Hawley, I need a yes or no answer.” 

Miles shrugged after a moment. “I mean, I started it, so… yes.”

The tiger nodded again, although his eyes narrowed. “I almost put a stop to it when I heard you, but… well, from what I could tell, you were enjoying yourselves. I decided to minimize the awkwardness and wait until you were done.” The tiger was disturbed. “It seems like things got a bit out of hand towards the end. So, I’m now worried that I made the wrong call.” 

He looked at Miles expectantly. The human was unable to form any immediate response. He’d never had this kind of conversation with an authority figure before. Even his father had never asked him more than very general questions.  

The coach finally continued. “I’m sure you’re aware that sexual assault can come in many forms. Withdrawing consent, for example, and having a partner continue would be considered rape by most definitions. So, again, I’m obligated to ask: Is there something I should know? Do you plan to press charges?” 

The questions punctuating Card’s explanation hit Miles like physical blows. 

He thought back on what had happened. The memory of trying to get Alec to stop was still vivid, and he could feel his heartbeat starting to quicken. 

He was still irked about what the wolf had done. But now that the initial outrage had faded, he recognized that his anger was layered with other more complex emotions. Alec was impulsive, but he wasn’t cruel. This had to have been some stupid misunderstanding on both of their parts. It was the same kind of problem he’d been having with the other zetas for weeks, albeit this incident was more personal. He took a deep breath. The wolf didn’t deserve to go to jail over something like this, did he? 

“No, Sir.” His voice sounded more confident than he felt.

“You’re certain? If you change your mind later, it will be much harder to make a case and it will complicate the entire situation.”

Miles nodded, resolving that no matter the technicalities, he would not think of himself as a victim in this case. He knew there were many who would argue against that choice, but it was his to make.

Card leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. “Thank God for that, at least. You have no idea what kind of shit storm that would bring down.”

Miles’ legs were feeling weak, and he reconsidered the chair. He settled for grabbing the back of it so it would support some of his weight. “Is that all you needed?” 

The coach sighed, eyes opening again as he regarded the human. “Because you’re both eighteen, and there’s no crime to report, I don’t need to contact the police. There is some paperwork we’re supposed to fill out in the event of a zeta-human sexual incident, but I don’t think any of us really wants that – that paperwork generally assumes the participants are minors. You’d have a visit with a public social worker. Probably end up with a fine, among other things. So, with your permission, I’d like to delete this video and pretend the whole thing never happened.” 

The human felt a sense of relief. “That sounds like a good idea to me, Sir.” 

Card made eye contact with him. “I’ll take care of it. But, before you go, I think it would be best to go over a few things with you. State law forbids educators from addressing zetasexuality in their curriculum, but I am allowed to counsel students who come to me.”

Miles realized that the tiger’s statement was a veiled request, and he decided to play along. The zeta was looking at him, waiting. “I… I did have some questions…” 

Although no longer surprised, he was irritated by how quickly his mind began thinking up fantasy scenarios. Even though he was sexually exhausted, he began imagining the big tiger shoving him under the desk, showing him the “proper” way to service a zeta. It took effort to force the thought away.

“Was this your first time trying zetasex?” the tiger asked, an empathetic tone resonating through his baritone rumble. 

“We… almost did something yesterday. But nothing happened.” 

“That’s all?” 

He nodded. 

The coach folded his hands on top of the desk and leaned forward. “OK. So it’s new.” He met Miles’ gaze. “Do you understand how dangerous this is?” 

“I mean, I know it’s illegal. But no one really enforces that stuff, right?” 

Card waved a hand. “They will if you give them an excuse, but that’s not what I’m talking about.” He pointed at Miles’ shoulder. “The scratch marks I saw in the video. They were from MacCrossen, yes?” 

“His claws were too sharp,” Miles said, surprised at the defensiveness in his voice. “I noticed he’d trimmed them way down today.” 

The coach sighed. “That means he wasn’t trying to hurt you, at least. But I still don’t think you understand. Obviously, I don’t know what it’s like to be a human. My great-grandfather was dead by the time I was born, but there’s a family story I feel the need to share with you.” 

Miles felt grim. He didn’t appreciate this relative stranger butting into his personal life, but he could tell that the zeta felt strongly about what he was trying to offer and that his intentions were earnest. 

Card asked, “Do you know much about Z-Day?” 

“Just what they taught in my world history class last year.” 

Z-Day referred to the day when the first zeta transformations began. They spread like wildfire across the entire planet. For four years, the transformations continued, seemingly at random. And then they just stopped. No one knew what caused the event, or why some people were transformed while others were unaffected. The assumption was it was a virus or something similar, although none had ever been identified. Many speculated that the transformations were the result of chemical or biological weapons experiments that had since been covered up. Some religious fanatics, like his mother, believed it was divine punishment for the wicked - a literal mark of the beast, heralding the end times. The lack of evidence for any grounded explanation caused conspiracy theorists and the superstitious to speculate wildly. 

“From what I understand, human schools don’t spend much time on zeta issues,” Card said, voice uncharacteristically soft. 

Miles shrugged. “That’s probably true. I knew almost nothing before we moved here.” 

“Then let me try to explain the context for what I’m going to tell you. For the first generation, it wasn’t just a physical transformation, but also a cultural one. Millions of families were changed. In many cases, families became split between zetas and humans.

“On my father’s side, my great-grandfather, James, and his oldest daughter were among the first to be affected. Maddison, his wife, and the rest of the family were left alone. Later, the child she carried was also transformed. Fortunately, the pregnancy came to term without issue and the child was born healthy. That was my grandfather. 

“Anyway, physically, James recovered quickly. But, as was the case with many of the first zetas, he was traumatized by the experience. Every firsthand account I’ve read says that the transformation was extremely painful, and even morphine didn’t completely dull the pain. Still, despite the physical changes, he and Maddison were in love, and together they eventually grew comfortable with each other again. They were careful. James took every precaution he could think of. But over time, they grew more bold, and then complacent. One day, when the children were visiting Maddison’s parents upstate, she surprised him with some kind of lingerie she’d found at a French boutique a few days earlier.”

Miles was trying not to grimace at the obvious direction the story was heading. Card seemed to notice his discomfort and waved it away. 

“Don’t worry. I don’t know all the gory details, and I wouldn’t share them if I did. The important part is that, in the end, she lived. But she bore scars from that night for the rest of her life. James never forgave himself, and their marriage quickly withered away. When the first Zetamorph Act passed a few years later, the family decided to separate. James accepted the aid package to move to Seneca City with his zeta children so they could begin a new life. Maddison moved on and remarried.” 

Miles wasn’t sure if he should respond, but after a few seconds of awkward silence, he spoke. “I’m sorry about your family, but I don’t think I understand why you’re telling me this.” 

Card sighed. “What I’m trying to say is that something about being a zetamorph changes the way the mind works. Everything I know says that James was a gentle and kind man, even after becoming a zeta. But when the right buttons were pushed, he was unable to control himself. He nearly killed the love of his life because he accidentally flexed his fingertips – his claws – at the wrong time.” 

The tiger glared, a pointed expression on his muzzle. “I think you have a pretty good idea of what I’m getting at. If James could do that to the mother of his children, what do you think someone like Alec might be capable of doing to you?” 

Miles unconsciously averted his eyes. “I’ve seen human-zeta couples. They’re in the news sometimes. Are you saying they’re all just waiting for the zeta to snap?” 

“It doesn’t happen to everyone, but it happens enough.” Card chuckled darkly, “I used to be one of those people.”

“Really?” 

The coach shrugged. “Is it so hard to believe I was young once? I marched at some of the zeta-rights protests in the nineties. During one of them, I met a human girl. We fell in love. It was really nice. And then,” he snapped his fingers, “I accidentally broke her arm in the backseat of my car.”

Miles looked away. Alec could have easily done something like that to him just a few minutes earlier. 

“Look, Hawley. The point is that, as backwards as the zetasex bans are, there are good reasons for them. Under certain emotional triggers, it’s very difficult for us to control instinctual behavior. Zetas, at least, heal faster and can take more punishment before any real injury. Humans aren’t built for that.” 

“You’re telling me to just stop?” 

The tiger shook his head. “If you can, yes. But I know it isn’t always that easy. All I really want is to make sure you know what’s waiting for you if you choose to walk through this door. Relationships between humans and zetas… they don’t end well.” 

It was startling to hear that kind of statement from a zeta. From a human, he’d have dismissed it out of hand. This kind of prejudice was very common. He’d seen it often enough from people like his mom. “I’m trying to be careful.” 

“That’s good. There are drugs that can help. Some human-lovers get surgeries to remove claws or adrenal glands. But all it takes is one major lapse.” The tiger held up his hands and flexed his claws. Even though they were dulled, it was a rude gesture from a zeta – as bad as brandishing a knife, really – but Miles understood the point. 

He stared as the zeta’s claws retracted. He knew Card was right. And yet, when he thought about intentionally isolating himself from Alec, or even other zetas, he felt anxious. As if he was considering locking himself away.  

There were hundreds of zeta breeds. Perhaps he could just swear off predators. Smaller herbivores, like rabbits or mice, would probably be easier to experiment with. Even smaller predators, foxes or bobcats, might not be so bad.  

“I understand,” he said, trying to keep the doubt from being audible.

The coach seemed doubtful. “All right. Just one more thing.” The tiger opened the center drawer under his desktop and retrieved a small stack of business cards held together with a small binder clip. He flipped through them slowly before finally removing one and sliding it over to Miles. It was a simple white card with a black line for a frame. A centered name was printed in all caps with an email address and phone number underneath.

FARRAH THOMPSON, DPT

“Who is this?” 

The coach was staring at the card, his gaze somewhat distant before refocusing on the human. “She’s an old friend from college. One of the smartest people I ever met. Now she’s a physical therapist. One of her specialties, although not official, is zeta-human relationships. She helps couples figure out ways to make it work.” 

The corner of Miles’ lip tugged downward. “Is this your ex or something?” 

“No. She was just a friend who ran in the same circles. We’re still on good terms, we just happen to disagree about a few things.” 

“And you’re giving me this because…?” 

“Because, I know what the temptation to indulge in this is like. The danger feels exhilarating. You’re confident that if you’re careful you won’t be like me. Maybe you’re even thinking you can ‘tame’ Alec or some other zeta.” 

Miles didn’t say anything, but Card took that as a confirmation. 

“If you’re not going to stop, then you should have someone you can talk to. I’m here. But you know how I feel about things. Farrah’s different in that she won’t try to talk you out of anything. And she knows more about this than I ever will.” 

Miles had the impression that Card wasn’t comfortable acting in this capacity. At least not if Miles intended to continue exploring his interest in Alec or some of these other zetas. Hesitantly, the human nodded, then pocketed Dr. Thompson’s card with a sincere thanks.

VI. Sabbatical 

At Card’s suggestion, Miles took the rest of the day off to recover. The human in the attendance office didn’t question him when he handed her the note the coach had written for him. As he was a legal adult, they weren’t required to contact his dad. That meant leaving was as simple as calling a ride on a rideshare app. He ignored the talkative ferret driver as much as he could, but had him stop at the pharmacy near his house so he could pick up some painkillers and epsom salt.

By the time he got home, he had a mental checklist of things to do, and he went through them as efficiently as he could. He emptied his pockets on the kitchen counter, then stripped out of his clothes. Those all went into the washing machine. His underwear went into the garbage. He doubted the cumstains would ever come out, and he didn’t want to answer any questions should his dad notice. 

Nude, and walking with a slight limp, he swallowed some naproxen with water, then walked to his room where he promptly retrieved his vape. He wasn’t sure being high would help with the dull ache in his ass, or the pains he felt all over, but he didn’t care. All he really wanted was to check out for a few hours. The weed would definitely help with that. He was breathing in a second hit when he noticed the pair of condoms he’d removed from his “stash” while Alec had been over the day before. The shiny black wrappers seemed so innocuous on the corner of the giant desk.  

He stared at them for a moment, quickly shoved them and the lube he’d left on his bedside table into the box, then slammed it shut. The wolf head carving on the lid stared up at him with eyes that reminded him too much of another wolf, so he took another big hit from the vape, then shoved the entire box into the bottom drawer of his desk and locked it.  

Twenty minutes later, Miles was lounging in the oversized jetted tub in the master bathroom, trying not to think of anything but the high pressure streams massaging his back and shoulders, and the sensation of the hot water easing the rest of his aches. The strong, fresh scent of the eucalyptus in the salts helped him relax. The pot, when it finally kicked in, did the rest of the job. By the time the water had cooled and the skin of his fingertips was wrinkled, Miles was actually feeling pretty good. 

His thoughts kept drifting to what had happened in the locker room, but the confused shame and anger he’d been feeling had faded into a dull turbulence in the back of his mind. Noticeable, yes, but much easier to ignore. 

He spent the next couple hours streaming episodes of an old TV show he’d started watching with his ex-boyfriend early in the summer, before he’d learned about his dad’s job offer. The show was about teenagers fighting supernatural monsters by summoning friendly demons of their own. Miles had found himself intrigued by the melodrama, despite the badly-aged makeup and effects. As he lost himself in the show, he couldn’t help but wonder if the reason he’d been into it a few months earlier was because most of the demons were played by zetamorphs. He made it about halfway through a third episode before falling asleep. 

He dreamed about Alec. In the dream, they were in one of those old fashioned cars that drove like a boat, parked on a grassy hill overlooking the city skyline, and making out like frisky teens in an old horror movie. The sensations were intense and visceral, with Alec’s long flat tongue exploring his mouth, and sharp teeth finding their way to his neck. As the wolf’s clawed fingers began working open the human’s jeans, they were both startled by a loud thumping noise from outside the car. 

Miles remained tense as he tried to glance out the window, but it was steamed over with condensation from their heated breath. “What was that?”

Alec smiled down at him, firm hands continuing to undress him. “Nothing baby, just the wind.” 

Even in the dream, Miles knew Alec was wrong, but he felt powerless to stop him. Soon he was naked, and the wolf was rolling him onto his stomach so he could be mounted. The slamming impact against the back of the car came louder this time – hard enough to rock the vehicle. Miles looked back to the window, terror now coursing through him. There was movement out there. 

He pushed himself up onto his elbows, ignoring Alec as he tried to force him back down. Miles reached up and wiped the condensation off the window, then gasped. 

Glowing yellow eyes, monstrous and bloodshot were glaring at him from outside the car. They were filled with hate and malice, and framed in a familiar shade of brown, so dark it was almost black. It was Alec, but something more than a zeta. He was far larger – hulking and bestial, his body bulging with muscles and covered in thick, bristled fur. Curled ram’s horns wrapped around the sides of his head, and his muzzle was so full of razor sharp teeth he couldn’t keep it closed. 

In panic, Miles turned back to his Alec, only to find that the pushy but tender wolf he’d been making out with had been replaced by this demonic version, and that the thing he’d been looking at outside had merely been a reflection. As the other male snarled and shoved the human against the cushions, pinning his arm to his back, Miles tried to resist. The wolf’s feral snarl grew louder, and he felt a sudden pressure in his arm as it twisted at an unnatural angle. A deafening, gruesome snap echoed through the car–

The sound of the front door closing downstairs caused him to jump awake with a startled gasp, a thin sheen of sweat covering his skin. He struggled to calm his racing heart. The details of the dream were already fading, but the feel of Alec’s leathery pawpads holding his arm back and the jerking sensation of his arm being pulled beyond its limits were still vivid.

“Miles!” His father called in an upbeat tone. “I brought dinner.” 

He tried to sweep away the tension he felt before responding, not wanting his dad to hear it in his voice. “OK, Dad, down in a minute.” 

He grabbed a fresh t-shirt from his dresser and threw it on, then checked himself in the mirror. His hair was disheveled from letting it dry without brushing after the bath, but he otherwise looked normal in his flannel pants and t-shirt, so he headed downstairs. 

The clinking of shifting dishes and the tantalizing scent of mingled turmeric, curry, and garlic greeted him as he stepped into the kitchen. 

“There you are,” his dad said from the open refrigerator. He was putting away a few groceries. “I got a message from one of your teachers today. Didn’t have a chance to call him back. Is everything OK?” 

Miles stopped, his good mood fading. Would Card have called his dad? “Uh, yeah, Dad. Just wasn’t feeling well. Decided to come home early.” 

His father’s sharp eyes turned their full attention on Miles as he closed the refrigerator. The middle-aged man had salt-and-pepper hair, and the lines on his face were starting to show his age. He still wore a white-collared shirt and tie, dark slacks, and shiny dress shoes – his usual work outfit minus the doctor’s coat. “What are your symptoms?”
 
“Dad, don’t try to diagnose me. I was just a little sick.” 

The older human’s brow wrinkled as he regarded his son, a frown creasing the corners of his mouth. “Hm. Force of habit, I suppose. Is it serious? I can always take you to a clinic if you don’t want to talk to me about it.” 

Miles forced a reassuring smile. “I’m OK now. I think Coach Card probably just wanted to make sure someone knew to check in on me.”

“Card? No, I think the message was from somebody named Riley.” 

“Really? I didn’t even have his class today.” 

His dad shrugged. “He didn’t say what it was about, just that he’d appreciate me returning his call. He only gave the school’s number though, so I don’t have a way to get in touch with him until Monday.” 

Miles was left to ponder that mystery while they ate. 

One of the things he loved about Seneca City was the restaurants. New Garden, where they’d lived before, had a variety of high end venues, but they were formal and expensive. Here, there were many smaller restaurants that were just as likely to have top-quality food. He was enjoying the opportunity to try out all kinds of interesting cuisine he’d never had access to. An Indian restaurant near his father’s hospital was his favorite so far, and his dad had gotten into the habit of bringing some home on nights when he was working late. 

Miles had skipped lunch that day, and hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he started plating up some of the curried chicken, fluffy rice, and garlicky naan. It smelled heavenly, and his stomach rumbled loud enough for them both to hear. 

“Guess that means you’ve got an appetite at least,” his dad teased.

When they were both done, they cleaned up together and the small talk they’d exchanged about Miles’ classes and his dad’s work shifted. 

“If you’re feeling better, does that mean you’ll be going out tonight?” 

Miles paused, then shook his head. “Don’t have anywhere to be,” he said as he put his damp plate in a small rack next to the sink to dry. 

His dad was adjusting some things in the fridge to make room for the leftovers. “That’s fine.” He hesitated. “I might have someone over for dinner next week. You’re welcome to join us, but I thought it might be nice to have a few hours to ourselves.” 

Miles froze, briefly stunned as the sink continued to run. Of course, it had been over a year since the divorce. It made sense that his dad would be interested in dating again. He’d even encouraged it a few weeks ago. With effort, he forced himself to turn off the sink. 

“Sure, Dad. I’ll figure something out.” He smiled, though he didn’t think it was very convincing.  

His dad noticed. “Hey, we definitely wouldn’t mind your company. I’d just gotten used to you and Tyler going out together on Fridays. I figure by now you’d be eager to explore the city. The nightlife is supposed to be the best there is.”  

He shrugged. “It’s been hard to make friends out here and I’m not used to going out on my own. But, you’re right. I’ll find a place to go this weekend.” 

His dad was quiet for a moment. “Is it the zetamorphs? They’re really not hard to talk to once you open up to them.” 

“No— I mean, it was at first. I’m just dealing with some stuff at school. Not sure how I should handle it.” 

His dad seemed reluctant to pry, but he tried anyway after a brief pause. “Anything I can help with? It’s not some bully or something, right?” 

For just a moment, Miles considered telling his dad about Alec. Not what had happened in the locker room showers that morning, of course, but Miles considered confessing his crush on the wolf, just to see how his dad would react. He couldn’t get the words out.

“It’s nothing like that,” he finally managed, feeling like a coward. “Maybe it is just the zeta thing.” 

His dad put a hand on his shoulder. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I had a hard time at first too. Trust me, all you need to do is take the time to get to know one of them. You’ll feel a lot better.” 

That night, Miles did a few things he knew were bad ideas. First, he texted Tyler, his ex, for the first time in two weeks. They had broken up on good terms; they’d both known that a long distance thing wouldn’t work for them. But, they hadn’t talked much after the move, and the conversations they did have always felt stilted and forced, even on video chat. This time had been no different. 

Miles had hoped to be able to confide in him about what he was going through. After all, who better to talk to about his sexuality than the person he’d explored it most with. Yet, after a few generic back and forths, Miles again found himself unable to actually type the words. Tyler had always thought his interest in zeta cartoons and movies was some cute, childish quirk. If he knew that Miles was literally getting fucked by them now, how would he take that? 

With that thought weighing on him, the conversation died quickly – the three-hour time difference with New Garden meant that even Tyler, who had always been a night owl, needed to sleep. Although Miles wondered if that had just been an excuse to blow him off. In either case, after sleeping through most of the afternoon, he was restless. And, in spite of everything, horny again. That led to more bad decisions. 

The modern internet was censored to hell these days, but getting around it was fairly easy as long as you knew a tech savvy person who could sell you a data card with a relay program on it. Miles didn’t know how it worked, exactly. Just that the program encrypted and relayed filtered content through non-filtered sources. Eventually, the government would identify the relays and block them too. At that point, you could either update your data card on your own, assuming you knew how, or pay someone for a new one.

The upside was that since his traffic was already being relayed and encrypted anyway, he could access questionably legal content without much worry about it being traced to him. Miles had never really searched for zetasex porn before. Sure, he’d read a few racey fanfics about some of his favorite zeta characters, but that was different. Now, he was trying to find actual photos and video of humans and zetas fucking. 

It took him some time. It wasn’t like he could use a normal search engine. Still, he eventually found a series of links that each led to an antiquated webpage with a smattering of shady content that looked like it had been filmed on someone’s shitty VHS tapes and badly converted to a digital format. He suspected most of it was at least two decades old. Still, it served its purpose. He found a video of a male wolf fucking a human twink missionary style and forcing a tie. He watched the entire ninety second clip twice. That was all it took. 

When he was done, and he’d cleaned up the mess, he felt a bit guilty. The human in the video could have been Miles’ brother. He had lighter hair and more defined muscles, but the build and complexion were similar. 

Now, with the video stopped and his labido satiated for the moment, Miles couldn’t help but notice the many small scrapes and bruises on the human’s body. Some were fresh, but there was enough variation to tell that these injuries were a regular and recurring thing. He could also identify that many were caused by bites, or claws, and even firm grips based on the distinctive bruising left behind by fingertips. At the end of the video, the wolf had even left a few fresh claw marks on the inside of the human’s thigh. And that was just what he could see in the grainy resolution. 

Disgusted with himself, he went to close the video when he noticed a banner ad. He was so used to ignoring advertisements, that he was surprised it caught his attention at all, or that it had somehow made it through his adblocker. The banner was a series of flashing images of the Seneca skyline interposed with silhouettes of human and zeta figures writhing together suggestively. The only text was a letter “Z” stylized to resemble a lightning bolt, which pulsed with “electricity” ever so often. The effect was just subtle enough to avoid being obnoxious. Curious, he clicked. 

That was how he discovered the existence of Zeus’ Menagerie. 

VII. Field Studies

The original Zeus Club had been a small saloon back in the earliest days of Seneca City. Like most such establishments, it was for males only, and even then, it had a reputation as a den for “degenerates.” When prohibition forced the club to close, some of the city’s elites cheered. A reputable developer purchased the surrounding property, and a new dance hall and restaurant soon opened under the name, “The Menagerie”. However, a hidden speakeasy in the basement continued to be called the Zeus Club. 

Now open to all genders, the Menagerie became wildly successful, even as the old saloon’s reputation for debauchery quickly reemerged. The government tried to crack down on the Menagerie’s prohibition violations many times, but the club always managed to stay open. As a result, a popular and persistent rumor began to circulate that the mysterious owner of the property, “Ganymede,” was none other than John Seneca himself – the country’s wealthiest zetamorph, and then-mayor of the city that now bore his name. 

By the time prohibition ended, and the war was in full swing, the Menagerie had formally embraced its lecherous reputation and rebranded as Zeus’ Menagerie. By then, the club had been expanded to include a hotel on its upper floors. It was an open secret that the hotel doubled as a brothel, and that “private time” with many of the Menagerie’s employees – both zeta and human – could be purchased. 

As public decency laws forbidding human-zeta fraternization became stronger, Ganymede not only refused to enforce them – he openly encouraged members to flaunt those laws. In the 1940s, a series of salacious pictures of zetas and humans provocatively dancing with each other at the club were infamously printed in several local papers, along with reports of certain activities taking place on the upper floors. This resulted in renewed public fervor to shut the place down, which continued off and on through the century. Though these efforts were occasionally successful, like a weed, the Menagerie always returned and remained a popular destination until the Eighties, when a new moral panic about zetasexuals began to consume the nation. 

Now known as Zeus’ Menagerie, the club had fallen on somewhat hard times, but it still served a unique function – the only night club in the country where zeta-human intimacy wasn’t just tolerated, but encouraged. And like thousands before him, that was what drew Miles. 

Miles wasn’t entirely sure what to expect. The industrial, red brick facade of the old warehouse was still prominent, but it had been supplemented in its most recent renovation with floor-to-ceiling glass windows, steel accents, and an addition to the second floor that included an outdoor bar and pool. There were grecian columns flanking the entryway, and through the largest of the windows, centered above the main entrance, Miles could see a statue of the club’s namesake, a reproduction of one of the seven ancient wonders of the world. 

The statue of Zeus filled the entire vertical space of the three-story club and was visible as Miles walked up the street. Carved from marble, the god sat on his elegant throne, wearing a silver crown and carrying a sphere in one hand, and a scepter in the other. And though his lower body was clad in robes painted in many colors, his upper body was bare, exposing the kind of physique one would expect from a deity. 

Miles had seen pictures of it the night before, but it was still a surreal piece of art to see in person, if only because of size. What stood out most to the human, however, was the god’s imperious expression. Unlike most modern religious figures he’d seen, this god didn’t appear to be looking on in judgment. Instead, Zeus’ expression was one of calm control and confident power. “This is my domain,” he seemed to be saying, “Friends: be welcome. Enemies: beware.” 

Late on a Saturday night, the sidewalks were crowded. Miles was disappointed to see that there weren’t many humans around. Most he saw were with large groups of zetamorphs, who seemed to crowd around them protectively. He got a nervous feeling while watching some of those groups. The humans seemed to be enjoying themselves, but the body language of the zetas reminded Miles of the way animals in nature documentaries guarded their kills. Other zetas who got too close often got warning glares. Twice, he saw things escalate beyond warnings. 

Fortunately, those groups were easy enough to avoid. When he got to the front entrance, there was a line to get in. Luckily for him, the large bouncer – a wolverine – waved Miles forward as he approached. Several of the zetas waiting stared at him as he passed. The bouncer quickly checked his ID, a discriminating eye wandering over the human. “What year were you born?” he said in a gruff tone

Miles hadn’t expected the question, but he gave the year quickly enough. The wolverine nodded, then handed him back the card. “Sorry for the hassle. Got to watch for fake IDs.” The bouncer then waved him inside; he didn’t even have to pay a cover charge.

Inside the main entrance, a wide set of well-lit stairs led to the main floor, which was a series of interconnected areas intended for dancing and social interaction. The largest and loudest dance area was directly in front of the statue. Bass-heavy music poured from speakers here, and Miles’ insides soon felt like they were vibrating in time with the rapid beats. As he skirted around this area, he noticed a number of smaller areas, usually set into the ground and surrounded by sofas or other seating, where dancers in faux cages were writhing in rhythm to the music and doing an impressive job of enticing tips from the crowd. While there were perhaps ten zetas for every human he saw among the crowd, he noted that at least half the dancers were human, and the gender divide was also almost even. 

As he examined these areas, Miles soon became enthralled by one of the zeta dancers, a male polar bear. The extremely tall, athletic ursid had grown the fur on his head out and styled it to resemble long human hair. Pink, blue, and purple shades had been worked into the layers to create a shimmering effect that drew the eye. It helped that the bear was wearing little more than a leather harness and shiny purple trunks that left little to the imagination. He also had a way of moving his body that was almost hypnotic. 

As he watched, Miles soon felt the hairs on his neck beginning to stand on end. Glancing around, he noticed that since he’d entered the area around the bear, several zetas – both male and female – were watching him. Few made any attempt to hide their interest as they regarded him with expressions that made Miles feel a little like raw meat. Even the bear was watching him, dark blue eyes focusing on the human’s smaller form. 

Feeling overwhelmed by the attention, he quickly moved back towards the statue, trying not to show his anxiety. His instincts told him that things would only get worse if he started to exhibit signs of fear. Behind the statue, another wide set of stairs similar to the ones near the entrance led down. They were brightly lit with blue and gold lights, so he followed them and soon found himself in a large bar – what had once been the speakeasy, now converted into a modern bar that filled much of the club’s basement. 

It was crowded down here, but he didn’t stand out quite so much. The lower ceiling and many booths and tables created a darker, cozier atmosphere compared to the brightly lit ground floor. 

At the center of a long room was a sizable circular bar staffed by zetas wearing old timey outfits, complete with vests and bowties. On either side of the bar were a dozen square tables paired with sturdy chairs of various sizes. Most of the light came from the square tables, which were illuminated with a white glow diffused by glass tabletops. A series of large booths flanked these smaller tables. Each contained faux leather benches and larger wooden tables that were lit only by dim pendant lights that the patrons appeared to be able to control. 

As he sat down at one of the smaller tables near the bar, the human peered into one of the most distant booths, then blushed when he noticed a subtle, undulating movement of fur in the darkness. 

A vulpine waiter approached him a moment later. The red fox was close to Miles’ age and height, with a slender build, bright fur, and green eyes. Unlike the bartender and the other waiters, the fox stood out because his vest was a dark red. He had to stop himself from ogling the zeta, although by the movement of his tail, he didn’t mind the attention. 

Miles ordered a hard cider. Before he pull out his credit chip to set up a tab, the fox gave him a playful smile. “That’s all right, dear. This one’s already paid for. I’ll be right back.” 

Miles flushed as he glanced around the bar, wondering which of the many zetas here had bought the drink. Eventually, he met the ice blue eyes of a lupine female with striking white fur who was seated at a few tables away with another female, a coyote. She offered him a toothy grin before standing to approach. 

Miles’ cheeks were still pink from what he’d seen in the booth, and the attention of this female didn’t help. She had some of Alec’s casual swagger, but was taller than the other wolf. If she were male, he probably wouldn’t be able to stop staring. 

“Thanks for the drink,” he managed, trying to sound polite but not overly interested. 

Her tail swished behind her as she answered. “Of course. It’s always nice to see a new human face. Would you care to join me and my friend? We’d be happy to give you a tour of the upper floors.”

The human tried to look apologetic. “I would, but… I don’t really like women that way.” 

Her ears dropped and her tail slowed, but there was humor in the wolf’s expression. The coyote was watching. Her ears were tilted in their direction. When the wolf noticed Miles watching her friend, she let out a sigh. “Amy bet me you would be gay. A lot of the cuter humans are, though there’s often some flexibility.”  

“Sorry,” he said. The coyote was grinning. “You’re very pretty, but not what I’m looking for.” 

She waved a dismissive hand. “No apologies. Not like you did something wrong.” She hesitated a moment. “Well, consider the drink my welcome gift. And… If you ever feel like expanding your horizons, don’t be afraid to look for me. I’ll remember you.” 

He blushed as he considered that. Tyler sometimes talked about the girls he used to date and the things he’d do with them. Miles had found those discussions interesting, on an academic level, but the idea of actually having sex with a female still seemed alien to him. “Thanks,” he said before he could dwell too much longer on that thought. “I’ll remember you too.” 

Miles watched her for a moment as she walked back to her table, tail still waving behind her, albeit a bit slower. The human was still feeling awkward, but at least he knew that folks seemed to be able to handle rejections around here. He’d been worried that zetas would get too pushy with him if he turned them down. 

The waiter brought his drink a moment later, and Miles took a few swallows of the sweet, slightly bubbly liquid while contemplating what he wanted to do next. 

“Been a while since I saw someone say no to Freya,” came a voice to his right. A thin lapin with long ears was hunched over a glass full of amber liquid. He was regarding the human with a mildly amused expression. 
 
“She’s not my type.” 

The lapin nodded, “So I hear.” He flicked his ears for emphasis. 

For a moment, Miles thought that was going to be the end of their conversation, but then the zeta spoke again. “Not sure what you’re after, but you’re welcome to join me if you feel like getting out of the spotlight for a while.” 

Miles considered. The lapin didn’t have Alec’s predatory charisma, but he was handsome. There was something in his eyes and his voice that radiated assured confidence, even if he was soft spoken. 

He glanced briefly around, then picked up his drink and crossed over to the booth. He was surprised at how soft the seats were, and with the low lighting, it felt like he was almost in a private room with the lapin. He was wearing a cologne that smelled vaguely of cardamom and something earthy and sweet. 

“Thanks,” he said after the lapin hadn’t acknowledged him for a few seconds. 

The zeta shrugged and gave him a sidelong smile. “My pleasure. These predator-types will chew you up if you let them.” 

His eyes quickly adjusted to the dark, and he was able to make out the zeta’s features. He was almost entirely brown with a creamy white neck and chin. His outfit was simple but stylish - a black and white flannel shirt and dark blue jeans that he wore at his hips. He had a simple gray tank top underneath the flannel. 

“Jesus, kid. Didn’t realize how young you were.”.  

Miles immediately felt defensive. The zeta didn’t look that much older than Miles. “I’m old enough.” 

The lapin chuckled. “Oh, I’m sure. The Menagerie’s careful about that. Don’t want to give the feds a reason to shut the place down.”  

The human nodded, then drank more of his cider. 

“Anyway, humans kind of run the show around here, so you shouldn’t have anything to worry about that kind of thing. Just be careful who you sleep with. Wrong sorts of guys will do just about anything to get you under their thumb.” 

Miles wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that, but he remembered the way the zetas had almost formed packs around some of the humans outside. Was that what the future held for him if he tried to date Alec?

“How do I know you’re not one of those?” 

The lapin smirked. “Guess you’ll just have to chance it.” 

After a moment, Miles said, “if I have to take a risk, it might as well be with a rabbit.” 

The lapin was a bit irritated. “Not a rabbit. I’m a desert hare.” 

Miles winced. “Oh. Sorry. Um… what is the difference?” 

He flicked his ears, but explained in a tone that suggested he’d had this conversation many times before. “Hares have longer legs and ears, a leaner build, and a different facial structure.” The hare shrugged. “It’s not a big deal. Just don’t call me a bunny.”

“Well, what should I call you then?” 

“You could try my name. It’s Virgil.” 

After Miles introduced himself, Virgil ended up paying for another round of drinks while they talked. For the first time since it happened, Miles finally opened up to someone about what he’d done with Alec. It felt strange sharing something so personal with a relative stranger, but the hare proved easy to talk to. 

“I’ve been with a few big wolves,” the hare said. “Never had one go crazy over a tie, but I’ve heard it can happen. I don’t blame you for being worried about it though. Hell, I’m surprised you’re walking straight.” 

“I’m still a little sore to be honest, but I’m mostly recovered.” 

“The benefits of youth,” the hare teased. 

Miles sighed, his thoughts drifting back to the situation with Alec. “What do you think I should do?” 

The zeta stirred his drink - he’d switched to some kind of whisky cocktail with the last round. “Hard to say. Obviously, there’s a mutual attraction, and I’m all for experimenting while you’re young. But what he did to you… that’s a big red flag.”

Miles nodded. The memory was enough to make his pulse quicken. “I don’t think he meant to hurt me.” 

“That makes it worse in some ways. Predators don’t always realize how strong they are, and if he lost control once, he almost certainly will again.”

“So you think it’s too dangerous,” Miles said, surprised that he felt disappointed. 

Virgil hesitated. “Maybe. The heart wants what it wants, or it doesn’t care. ” 

Miles looked across the table. “Is that a quote?” 

“Something I read once,” he said dismissively. “I think most people know what it’s like to want something even when it’s bad for you.” 

“What would you do?” 

The hare sighed and leaned into the corner of the booth. “Fuck, I don’t know, kid. I guess I’d talk to him about it someplace you’re both comfortable. If you try again, there’s a few things you could do. Get him really high. Make him jerk off before you see him. All you really need to do is find a way to take that edge off. Every zeta’s a little different, so I don’t know what will work for him.”

The waiter came by and offered to refill their drinks, but Virgil raised a few fingers. “No thanks, Simon. Hey, are there any rooms available upstairs?” 

The fox’s eyes slid briefly to Miles, a small smile touching his eyes. “Not right now, dear, but I can put you on the wait list. Might be twenty minutes, give or take.” 

Virgil grunted. “Should have said something earlier. Fuck.” 

It took Miles a moment to understand what the hare was asking for. Already warm from the alcohol, he was now starting to feel overheated. 

“You want another drink while you wait?” the fox asked. 

“Yeah, guess so. Better make it a double. You want one?” 

The human hesitated.  He was already buzzed, but he still felt nervous, so he nodded. As the vulpine went back to the bar, Miles felt Virgil’s eyes on him. “I wasn’t trying to put you on the spot. All this talk about you and your wolf just got me in the mood. I’ll hire Simon if you’re not interested.”

“Oh, he’s a…” Miles wasn’t sure if there was a more polite term for prostitute.  

Virgil chuckled. “A lovely fox. Yes.”

“He’s very handsome,” Miles rushed in, trying not to appear ignorant. “I just didn’t know he was ‘available.’”

The hare smirked. “For you, I expect nearly every zeta here is ‘available.’ But if you’re wondering about who you can hire, just look for the staff that wear red. They set their own prices, but they’re usually reasonable. Just ask if they could show you to a room and they’ll let you know.” 

Miles nodded, thinking back to the polar bear from earlier. Had he been wearing red? 

The lapin shifted in his seat, and Miles noticed a furred hand drifting to adjust the bulge between his legs. He noticed the human’s glance and shrugged. “Sorry, I keep thinking of you taking that knot.” 

“You too?” 

They laughed, and Miles looked around the room. It wasn’t any more crowded than it had been earlier, but he felt relatively secluded in the booth. He thought about the couple he’d seen when he’d first sat down. An idea occurred to him, and he suspected Virgil had been thinking something along the same lines, although he’d been too polite to suggest it.

Without a word, Miles peeked under the table. The floor underneath was lightly carpeted, and there were several conspicuous stains that made him hesitate. 

“Hey, you don’t need to do that,” the hare said. Miles noted that it wasn’t a rejection. Smirking, he set aside his reservations and slipped under the table. There was more room underneath than he expected, and the carpeting was easy on his knees. 

In moments, he had his hands on the lapin’s firm thighs while warm fingers explored Virgil’s maleness. It was longer than Miles had expected, but narrow with a slightly tapered shape. The color was lighter than Alec’s, but still a distinct shade of pink that made it feel exotic. 

One of the more intriguing differences was the scent. Even freshly washed, Alec had a strong, earthy musk. Virgil’s was sweeter, vaguely reminiscent of lemongrass. When he ran his tongue along the bottom of it, eliciting a soft gasp from the other male, Miles noted that the taste was slightly different. Salty and musky, like every dick he’d ever sucked, really, but with a sweeter undertone. It was quite pleasant, and as he settled into a familiar rhythm, the comforting thrill of pleasuring another male soothed his remaining inhibitions. 

The hare’s hand was soon on the back of Miles’ head, guiding him to where he was needed. Long fingers gripped at his dark hair, and the human was soon using the slight movements and tension of the zeta’s grip to guide his movements. Instincts took hold, and muffled moans and quickened breath told Miles he was doing well. 

Barely aware, he did hear Simon come back, albeit briefly. The human wasn’t sure if Virgil clued him in, or if the fox just figured it out. He was probably used to this kind of thing, and vulpines were supposed to have good noses. In either case, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the tip of the fox’s wagging tail as he sauntered off to be busy elsewhere. 

Virgil didn’t take long to get over the edge after that. Miles suspected he’d gotten off on being out in the open. It had certainly had an effect on Miles, whose cock was straining against the front of his jeans. The human was worried he might cum without touching himself as he had with Alec the day before, but when Virgil’s grip tightened as Miles felt the comforting pulsing sensation as Virgil came, he was relieved that he hadn’t quite gotten there. 

He held the hare’s length in his throat until he was finished, then pulled back with a barely audible pop and a satisfied sigh. A string of cum and saliva briefly connected him to the organ, but not for very long. For a moment, Miles just collected his breath and his wits until Virgil was waving him back up onto the bench. He climbed up next to the hare rather than back on the opposite side. 

“What the fuck, kid? Where’d you learn to do that?”

He’d pulled Miles against him. Despite the thin frame, he was surprisingly strong. 

“Doesn’t matter,” he said. “Glad you liked it.” Miles pulled over his glass from the other side of the table. There wasn’t much left, but he downed it all the same. 

A few tables away, their waiter had noticed Miles was no longer “occupied.” He approached, wearing a subtle-but-knowing smirk. “Poor thing, you look flushed. Do you want another drink?” 

Miles giggled, then immediately felt embarrassed. He wasn’t the giggling type, usually. “Some water would be nice.” 

The fox nodded. “Sure, dear.” 

He returned a moment later, setting the tall glass in front of the human. He then focused on Virgil. “I wanted to let you know that a room opened up. It should be clean by now if you’re still interested.” 

The hare shifted, slipping an arm down Miles’ torso. “I am,” he tilted his head down so he could speak softly into the human’s ear. “You did good, but I usually need two or three more like that. Think you’d be up for that?” 

Miles slid a hand up the hare’s thigh. The hare had discretely gotten his dick back into his jeans, but he was still erect. The feel of the maleness reminded him that he hadn’t  cum yet. “I… think I’d like that.” Glancing briefly at the fox, he then added, “I wouldn’t mind a little help.”

The hare’s expression was difficult for Miles to read, but he thought he was amused. He looked back to Simon. “You feel like showing us to a room, fox?” 

He didn’t need long to consider, eyes briefly flicking towards Miles. 

The fox’s tail was flagging behind him again, slightly faster than before. “It’s been a while since I had a human client.” He looked to Virgil, “But you wore me out last time. It’s still early.” 

The hare seemed pleased with himself, and Miles gathered that Simon wasn’t actually that upset. “Didn’t I tip well enough?” 

The fox eyed the human again. Miles thought he saw a familiar spark in those blue eyes. Something predatory. “Well, since it’s your first night, I don’t see a need to charge extra. Virgil, you know my usual rate.” 

The hare nodded. “Worth every cent, by my recollection.” 

“Well then, as long as your new friend here’s on board…” 

“It was sort of his idea,” Virgil said. “Not that I’m complaining.” 

On the way up to the room, Miles took a detour into the bathroom. He wasn’t really paying much attention as he did his business at a urinal, then moved to the sink to wash his hands. He was thinking about how odd it was for the bathroom to be so clean and well lit in a place like this when he caught a glimpse of a familiar form walking past him. 

The wolf was wearing a red muscle shirt and light colored jeans that hugged his legs just enough to show off how athletic he was. His long tail, the color of dark chocolate, flicked behind him as he walked past. Golden eyes momentarily slid over Mile’s form in the mirror, not really seeing at first. When his mind finally did make the connection, the wolf just stopped. 

“Miles?” 

The human was holding his hands under the faucet, letting cold water continue to cascade over his skin even though the soap had long since rinsed away. His eyes hadn’t left Alec’s reflection from the moment he’d recognized it. 

“Holy shit,” the wolf hissed. He looked around as if checking for threats, then stepped close. “What the fuck are you doing here?” He put a hand on the human’s shoulder, again scanning the bathroom to see if anyone was watching them. A weasel at one of the urinals was giving them a sidelong look Miles could see in the mirror, but the bathroom was otherwise empty. 

Carefully, but firmly, he stood up straight and took Alec’s hand off his shoulder. “I’m fine,” he said, realizing it was true as he said it. “I’m a little surprised to see you here.” 

Alec’s ears folded flat, but his expression lost none of its intensity. “I’ve been coming here for a few weeks.” 

They stared at each other for another few seconds before Miles deliberately stepped past him and activated the hand dryer. It was intended for furred paws more than hands, so the air was a bit intense. His hands were dry in seconds. “Alec, we need to talk about what happened, but now’s not the time. I’ve got people waiting for me.” 

The weasel had finished and was hurriedly washing his paws, though in the mirror, Miles noticed his gaze lingered on Miles’ ass a little too long. Alec gave him a glare, and that sent the weasel out quickly. He didn’t even bother to dry his hands. 

The wolf turned his attention back to Miles, obvious jealousy bringing intensity into his expression and body language. “Who? How long have you been here?” The wolf had stepped close again, his nose inches away from his head as he sniffed. “Why do you smell like… is that rabbit?” 

Fucking zeta noses, Miles thought as he put a hand on Alec’s chest to push him back. He might as well have been shoving at a wall, but the wolf did eventually take a step back. 

“Hare, actually. Look, I’m just trying to figure some stuff out. I’d appreciate you minding your own business.” 

By now, Miles could recognize hurt in Alec’s expression. A lot of it was in the ears and eyes, not to mention the tail trying to tuck between his legs. “Fuck, Miles. You could have talked to me.” 

“I planned to. On Monday.” 

“But… this place.” He lowered his voice. “It’s not exactly entry level shit for humans. There’s some seriously bad guys around here.”

“What, like people who will keep fucking me after I tell them to stop?” 

Alec glared at him, but as Miles took a step back, he lowered his eyes. “I don’t think I could have stopped, Miles. I’m sorry, but you don’t know what it feels like.”

Residual anger from the previous day was rising in him again. With effort, he forced that down. “I know. It just… I don’t know, it really scared me.” He glanced back towards the exit. “I need to go.” 

Alec seemed like he was going to argue further, but he must have seen something in the human’s expression that convinced him it wasn’t an argument he would win. “Fine, go do whatever. Just be careful.” 

They maintained eye contact for a few more seconds before he quickly stepped back  into the club. He half expected Alec to come rushing after him, trying to convince him to leave. Fortunately, Alec seemed to have taken the hint that Miles wanted to be left alone. That was a good sign, Miles thought. At least he wasn’t trying to turn him into some pet like the groups he’d seen earlier in the evening. 

He found Simon and Virgil talking quietly near the stairway to the upper floors. They greeted him with warm smiles and, with one last glance over his shoulder at the bathroom door, Miles let the pair show him to one of the Menagerie’s rooms.