Page 32 of Blood and Trouble

A few moments later, Locust came with the food, knocking politely on the door before using his key to get inside.

“Wooo,” he whistled and threw his head back with a howl, placing the bag of carry-out on the coffee table in front of me. “It smells like female and fuckery in here.”

I scowled.

“You look like hell.” He grimaced. “I mean…I’ve seen worse on the other side of the transition. Sometimes, they can’t even walk the next day. And you’re still on your feet, so…” Locust put his hands on his hips and looked toward the bedroom. “Want me to get housekeeping to change the sheets?”

The whole room still reeked like blood. “Yeah.”

He patted my shoulder and headed toward the door. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Thanks, Locust.”

CHAPTER 6

Ava

I’d woken up in a nightmare. That much was certain. I stared at my reflection in the mirror, grimacing at the ruby stains around my mouth and the red-tinged residue on my teeth. And were those fangs?

Am I a vampire?

My pulse skyrocketed, and I ran my hands back through my hair, willing myself to wake up from this rotten alternate universe.

This can’t be happening.

This is not real.

Wake up, Ava. Wake up.

When that didn’t happen, I forced myself to be logical. Lycan said there was an explanation. He said we were alright. We were healthy. Shower first, details after.

After I fully scrubbed the last…however long…off my body, I did my skincare routine and glanced at myself again, noticing something feral in my stare that wasn’t there in my previous twenty-six years of life. My irises seemed to glow, almost like a predator in the woods on a moonlit night, waiting to pounce on unsuspecting prey. Everything seemed brighter. The lights. The sun. The scents circulating through my suite. Lycan’s heavenly masculine scent floated from the living room, combined with the delicious aroma of food. If I focused hard enough, I thought I could even track Bow and the others down the hallway.

My phone vibrating on the nightstand brought me back to my senses, and I walked into my room to grab it.

Maeve. Requesting FaceTime.

Taking a breath, I picked up the call and held the phone at eye level.

“Finally!” She sat up straight and widened her eyes. “You’re alive.”

“Maeve. Now isn’t a really good time.”

“I know,” she said. “You’ve gone through transition.”

I went still. There was that word again. Transition.

Lycan had used it to explain my fever and everything that happened after.

“This is going to sound ludicrous,” she said, “but I need you to trust me.”

I sat on the edge of the bed. “Go on.”

“We’re shifters,” she said. “We transform into animals on the full moon.”

I blinked as she continued, struggling to wrap my mind around the fairytale she’d concocted. According to her, Guin had gone into her transition at nineteen, nearly seventeen years ago. Sol went through it last year, when she’d gotten stuck in the cabin on Bastard territory. Maeve herself experienced it a few weeks ago.

“This is what they were keeping from us,” she continued. “They couldn’t tell us. It’s supposed to be a secret from humans, even the ones who might experience it themselves.” She ranted about mates and changing and pheromones, and I couldn’t keep up with her, too overloaded with details.