I find the scent on the wind, and pursue it through the trees.
Then I spot the flank of a deer and break into a sprint. I quickly overtake it, a silent shadow in the forest.
I pounce, and there’s a moment of perfect quiet as I soar through the air.
My claws slam into its side, pulling my fangs towards its throat. I’m about to sink them in, the scent of vanilla and jasmine pouring down my throat…
Then I remember what’s different tonight.
Jamie.
I jolt awake.
I’m over him on the bed. My claws have torn through the sheets, deep into the mattress foam.
My skull tingles, and there’s the pressure that always comes just before the shift.
Somehow, Jamie is still asleep.
That precious idiot.
I force a deep, silent breath, counting myself back from the edge. I slowly pull away from Jamie, tension in every muscle to keep myself under control.
He stirs, but stays asleep.
I’m a ticking bomb.
Grabbing my phone is important enough to spare a couple seconds, but I don’t dare take the time to find my room key as I head for the door.
I don’t care that I’m still in my t-shirt and pajamas. I pity anyone who even so much as looks at me sideways right now.
The door clicks shut behind me, but it’s not enough distance.
The beast is screaming, clawing.This is the wrong way.
My grip on myself is iron. There’s not even a millimeter ofroom for weakness now.
I head for the stairs and start climbing. This ‘next best’ room is a full ten flights from the top.
The climb takes the barest sliver of the edge off, and as I reach the top, I find the sign I’m looking for:Roof Access,Authorised Personnel Only.This hotel’s roof doesn’t have any guest amenities, and that’s for the best.
A padlock reinforces the sign’s message. I lower a shoulder and slam into the door.
The steel shudders, and the bracket for the padlock pulls halfway out of the wooden frame.
A second slam sends chips of wood scattering as the door swings open.
I brace it shut, take two steps out, and scream.
The sound is primal, strangled, agony. I’m shaking, muscles spasming with the energy locked in by my iron grip.
I turn and slam the side of my fist against the concrete that shelters the stairway. A second blow lands, then another, grinding my skin against the rough stone until the pain brings me back in control of my body. Blood trickles down my forearm.
I’ve stopped the shift. For now. I’ll be on a hair trigger for hours.
With a sigh, I step away from the stairs and take a seat on the edge of the roof, legs dangling over the thirty-story drop. The breeze cools me off as I text Eileen to clear my schedule.
Chapter 24
