by Sarah Bailey
Dalia’s nostrils flared. She slammed a hand down on the table. The vampire stared at the two of them with a raised eyebrow.
“So, we have no idea what she’ll shift into at the next full moon.”
“No.”
“This makes no sense. The shifter has been killing girls, not changing them. This just got a hundred times more complicated.”
“At the very least, we’ll know what type of shifter it is once she changes.”
She glared at him, grey eyes blazing. Neave flinched, but his expression remained neutral.
“Killing innocent humans is one thing, but biting one to induce the change, that’s entirely different. Excuse me if I do not wish to celebrate our good fortune.”
He rolled his eyes, grinning. Dalia sure had a temper on her. No wonder no one has tried to take her place as Alpha for a long while. I wouldn’t want to end up in a fight to the death with her.
“If you think this is so funny, you can take responsibility for her. You did find the girl, after all,” she continued.
His smile fell, eyes narrowing. Is she fucking nuts?
“I didn’t say I wanted to be shackled with a girl. You know I work alone.”
“The only thing we know about this shifter is it isn’t a wolf. Therefore, this isn’t pack business. I want to take the rogue down just as much as you, but I don’t have time to look after a newly bitten shifter.”
“Do you think I have time?”
Dalia arched an eyebrow.
“You have time to be hanging around in parks after dark.”
He looked away. Touché. There was nothing for it.
“Fine, but if she freaks out on me, she’s on her own. I don’t have time to babysit a scared girl who has no idea what’s happening to her.”
Neave stepped forward, looking at the girl with concern.
“You need to tell Gavin what’s been going on,” she said to Dalia, her voice timid.
Dalia’s eyes narrowed when she looked at the vampire.
“This isn’t vamp business.”
“Rex made it our business when he brought that girl here. Shifters going around murdering girls in London is something we should know about.”
“It’s one rogue. We have it handled.”
“I’d hardly call it going on for six months as having it handled.”
Dalia turned to Rex.
“You told her that?”
He shrugged.
“What? Neave deserved an explanation for me turning up with a blood-soaked girl. Did you want me to lie? It’s been going on long enough.”
Dalia let out a long breath.
“Fine. I’ll contact him, but this is still shifter business. You vamps need to stay out of it.”
Rex looked down at Izzy again. He was not looking forward to the inevitable conversation about what was happening to her.
“Rex, my car is on the street. I’ll drop you home with the girl,” Dalia said.
“Appreciate it,” he replied, still staring at Izzy.
Her brow furrowed as if she was having a bad dream. He brushed her blonde hair out of her face, checking to make sure she was still unconscious. It was better for her that way. The process was painful, even for a shifter with accelerated healing. Her body was preparing for the change.
“Well, shall we go?” Dalia asked.
He picked up her purse and shoes, handing them to Dalia before picking up the girl herself. He made sure her head wasn’t lolling all over the place by tucking her into his chest.
“Thanks, Neave, you know, for letting me in and helping me clean her up,” he said to the vampire.
“Any time, you know you’re my favourite feline. And take care of the girl, you know, for her own sake.”
He rolled his eyes. If it had been anyone else, he would’ve been offended. He carried Izzy from the room and outside. Following Dalia to her car, he settled the girl in the backseat before climbing in next to her.
The drive was silent. He watched the girl for signs of her stirring. She shifted on the seat, her hands grasping the air before she whimpered. Something under her skin rippled. He cursed softly. Pulling her towards him, he settled her head in his lap, stroking her blonde hair.
“Shh, shh, it’s okay,” he muttered quietly.
“It’s happening, isn’t it?” Dalia asked, peering back at them through the rear-view mirror.
“It seems to be taking, yes. Whether she’ll shift fully or not remains to be seen.”
“Whoever did this is a fucking arsehole.”
He was silent, looking down at the girl in his lap. Her skin rippled again. Her body was adjusting to the new animal slumbering inside her.
Rex carried Izzy into his flat when Dalia dropped them off. He placed her very carefully in his bed, on her front, so the wounds on her back could heal. He settled the covers over her. The girl had been through enough. At the very least, he’d make sure she was comfortable.
He picked up the bottle of whisky from his bedside table and sat down in the leather armchair beside the window. He looked out at the night’s sky, taking a swig from the bottle. He was sure in for a difficult conversation when Izzy woke up.
§
Izzy cracked an eye open. Her body ached all over and she could smell the scent of pine and whisky. Where am I? She didn’t recognise her surroundings. She was in a strange bed. The sheets were blue. She turned her head, spying a window. The sunlight streamed in through the large gap where the curtains hadn’t been closed properly.
She shifted, turning on her side. She winced as it tugged at the wounds on her back. What happened? Sitting up, she looked around the room properly. Her eyes fell on the leather armchair by the window. A man was passed out, his arm thrown haphazardly across his face. A bottle of whisky sat by his feet. He had dark hair and was dressed in a t-shirt stained with blood and a pair of black jeans. There were scruffy boots on his feet.
She looked down at herself. These were not the clothes she remembered wearing last night. Who had put these on her? She eyed the man again. If he’d undressed her, she would have words with him about how inappropriate that was.
He shifted, his arm falling from his face. There was a scar across his right eyebrow, but it didn’t make him unattractive. She decided it suited him. There was an air of the bad boy about the man in the chair.
He opened his eyes. They were green, flecked with gold. Wow. They’re kind of beautiful. They stared at each other for a moment.
“You’re awake,” he said.
“Yes.”
She was stumped. She wasn’t sure what she was doing here. What happened last night? I can’t remember anything after I left the club.
“How are you feeling?”
“Sore… Um… What happened to me?”
He shifted, sitting up properly. He leant an arm on his knees, propping his face up on a hand.
“You don’t remember anything. That’s just… great.”
She frowned. It wasn’t her fault she couldn’t remember. She knew it had to have been bad considering how much her back ached.
“You were attacked last night.”
Attacked? It wasn’t him, was it? If it was, why would he have brought her here? Nothing he’d said made any sense.
“Look, I’m not very good with this kind of thing. You were attacked by a shifter. I found you, bandaged you up and brought you back here so you could rest.”
“A shifter?”
What on earth did he mean by that? It sounded ridiculous to her ears. Why would anyone attack her?
“A shapeshifter. I suppose you would be more familiar with the term werewolf, but it wasn’t a wolf that attacked you. We’re not sure what species it is exactly.”
The blood drained from her face. A shapeshifter?
“What? That’s… that’s insane. Are you serious?”
“Yes. I wouldn’t be having this conversation with you if I wasn’t.”
He ran a hand through his hair, leaning back in the armchair
with a sigh.
“Look, I know it’s hard to believe, but I’m afraid you need to know this.”
“Why?”
What possible reason could he have for making up a bunch of stupid shit about shapeshifters existing?
“Because the shifter bit you, several times, to induce the change. You’re going to turn at the next full moon.”
She gripped the covers, fingers curling around the fabric. That couldn’t be possible. Nothing about this made any sense. Induce the change? Was he seriously telling her she was going to change into some kind of animal?
“Turn? Turn… into what?”
“If I knew what kind of animal, I’d tell you.”
“How… how do you know this?”
“I’m a shifter myself. If you want to check your back, you’ll see that most of your wounds are healed.”
This guy turned into an animal. What the fuck? She scrambled off the bed. Her back and legs still ached. She looked down at her arm. There were faded bite marks on her bicep.
She gulped and went over to the mirror on the back wall, turning so she could see her back. Gingerly lifting up her t-shirt, she found there were white bandages obscuring her view. He stood up and approached her.
“Let me help you,” he said.
She stood still as he peeled the bandages off her back. His touch was gentle. His fingers were calloused, but she didn’t mind too much. Far worse men had touched her before. She shuddered at the thought. He tugged her t-shirt up further, so he could access the rest. She flushed, realising she hadn’t worn a bra yesterday when she’d gone out.
“I’m going to need you to take that off, so I can get to the one on your shoulder,” he said.
He took a step back, turning around to afford her some privacy. She tugged off the t-shirt before pressing it to her chest to cover her modesty.
“You done?” he asked.
“Yes.”
He turned back towards her. He reached over, peeling away the final bandages. His fingers brushed over the still healing wounds. She winced. He turned her around, so she could look at her back. It was covered in puckered skin, but all the wounds had closed.
“It’s part of a shifter’s nature to heal quickly,” he said. “There’s a lot you’ll have to learn.”
She looked up at him, feeling more than a little confused and out of her depth. How could she be becoming a shapeshifter?
“I don’t understand,” she said.
“It would help if we knew what you’ll shift into, but until then, I can try to answer any questions you have.”
She had a heck of a lot of those, but where to start?
“Why would anyone do this?”
“Well, there’s no easy explanation. The shifter who did this has been murdering girls for months. Why they chose to try to induce the change in you is a question I can’t answer.”
If someone had been doing that, then why wasn’t London on high alert? Surely this would be front page news? None of what he’d said made this situation any clearer.
“Murdering…. What? How is this not been in the news?”
“It’s been suppressed. You think we want it to become public? As far as they know, they’re animal attacks.”
“But surely, the media would get hold of something like this?”
He grinned, green, gold flecked eyes twinkling.
“Oh, we have ways and means of dealing with that.”
She swallowed, hard. Did this really mean shapeshifters were real? Did it mean the supernatural existed? Her head hurt just thinking about it.
“Who… who dressed me?”
“It wasn’t me if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Oh.”
She realised she was still clutching the t-shirt to her chest. Moving away from him, she pulled it back on, instantly feeling a little more comfortable. The whole situation was messed up. She couldn’t wrap her head around it. What he said sort of made sense, but it also opened up a whole new can of worms. The supernatural is real. Fuck. Why is this happening to me?
“Um, well, thank you for saving me, but I should really be going.”
He turned to her, frowning.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“I need to get back.”
She looked around, spying her purse on the bedside table. She went over to it, pulling out her phone. There were fifteen missed calls, twenty-five text messages. The voicemail symbol was in the corner of her screen.
“Fuck,” she muttered.
He was going to kill her. This was a disaster. She was going to be in the shit big time. Nothing would make this any better right now. Her entire life was in pieces on the floor.
“Look, thank you for your concern, but I really have to go.”
He sighed, walking over to her.
“At least take my number. You’ll need it.”
She wasn’t sure she would, but she opened up her contacts and handed it to him. He added his number before giving it back to her. She looked down. Rex. So, that’s what his name was. Glancing back up at him, she noticed his green eyes changed slightly, growing a little more feline. She blinked, and they’d returned to normal. Had she imagined it?
She picked up her purse, stuffing her phone back inside. Spying her heels by the bed, she sat down on it, pulling them on. She looked ridiculous, but she didn’t have time to worry about her appearance. She needed to get back. Back to hell.
“Uh, well, thanks again.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes… I’ll call you if I have any more questions.”
“Right.”
He followed her out into his small living room and opened the front door for her, giving her a nod. She gave him a half smile before she walked out. When she was on the street, she pulled out her phone again. Ignoring all the voicemails and texts, she pulled up Google maps. She was in Clapham. She sighed in relief. It wouldn’t take her long to get back to the flat.
Putting her key in the door, her heart hammered in her chest. She crept in. The flat was silent. She slipped off her heels, putting them in the cupboard before tiptoeing into the living room.
“Where the fuck have you been?”
Chapter Three
Izzy turned very slowly. Alan stood in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest, his expression thunderous. She swallowed, hard.
This was exactly what she’d been afraid of.
Alan.
“I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stay out all night. I fell asleep at one of the girls.”
He stalked towards her, grabbing her by the arm.
“You little bitch. I warned you. You dare disobey me?”
“N… n… no. I’m sorry, Alan, please.”
The smack across her face came without warning. She cupped her cheek, tears pricking at her eyes. The blows always hurt like hell.
“Don’t you fuck with me, Isadora. I’m tired of your games.”
“I’m sorry, it’ll never happen again. Please, let me go.”
He pulled her up, his face far too close to hers. His brown eyes full of menace.
“You think I give a shit what you want. You are mine. You owe your life to me.”
She trembled. Pleading wouldn’t get her anywhere, but she had to try. Alan’s wrath was brutal. After everything that happened in the last twelve hours, she really didn’t need him hurting her as well.
“Please.”
“Oh, give it a rest. You’re pathetic.”
He threw her down on the floor. She scrambled away, out of his reach. Is he going to come near me again? Is he going to hurt me?
“Go clean yourself up. You’ve got a client this evening.”
“Okay, yes, I’ll go.”
She got to her feet and hurried away into her room, shutting the door quietly behind her. It was a small mercy she had a booking this evening. He wouldn’t have hesitated with his fists otherwise. Spoiling the goods wouldn�
�t do for his profits. That was all she was to him now. His property to do with as he saw fit.
She sat on the end of the bed, tears spilling down her cheeks. What was she going to do? If her body hadn’t healed by the evening, how would she explain all the scarring on her back? Rex said shifters healed quickly.
This was all so crazy. She felt like a stranger in her own skin. Wishing she’d stayed to ask more questions, she stripped out of the clothes she’d been given and stared at herself in the mirror again. The puckered skin on her back had already improved and it’d only been an hour since she last looked at it.
She brushed her fingers over her shoulder. A sharp pain in her skull caused her to fall to her knees, clutching her face. Agony ripped through her as a memory resurfaced. She was on the ground and something was biting her over and over. Teeth sunk into her skin. Her body ached all over. Her skin itched, rippling across her back. She whimpered, trying to hold back a scream.
It faded. The searing pain in her head turned to a dull ache. She curled her legs up into her chest, clasping them. It had felt so real. Is that what happened last night? Had she really been attacked?
She sat up. There was no way she could stay on the floor all day. Hauling herself to her feet, she pulled on a robe and shuffled out into the bathroom. Perhaps she’d feel more human again after a shower.
The water ran down her back. She hissed at the pain. If she hadn’t seen all those bite marks, she would never have believed a word Rex had said. How could she be turning into a shapeshifter? Tears spilt over again. This was the last thing she needed. If Rex was right, she’d turn into an animal once a month at the full moon. That’s what happens in the movies, at least. How would she be able to keep this from Alan? She could barely leave the flat without his permission as it was.
A bang on the door startled her.
“Hurry the fuck up,” Alan called.
She stifled the urge to tell him to go away. Snagging the shampoo bottle, she washed her hair thoroughly before stepping out and drying herself. When she crept out of the bathroom, he was nowhere to be seen. She hurried away into her bedroom to get ready. The scars on her back were almost faded. She hoped by the time she was done, they would be gone. She was just applying her makeup when her phone rang. She put down the brush she was holding and pulled her phone towards her.