again, but I still had to move.
He showed me his palms, naked now, like a human’s.
“Already changing back. Stay, Grace.”
“I’m sorry…too weird.”
I smoothed my dress around my hips, found my shoes, not seeing my bra and not caring.
I turned on my heel and rushed through the door, almost knocking down the waitress.
She looked shocked. By me.
The waitress pushed a dessert try loaded with amazing looking pies and cakes, covered with white foamy whipped cream and fresh looking fruit.
Damn, I should’ve stayed for dessert.
But I knew if I spent one more minute looking at Karl Norman’s perfect features I would throw myself in his lap and kiss his face from the collar of his shirt to the line of his curly hair with its damn full moon highlights. I’d sniff around his collar and behind his ears for the scent of his clean sweat mixed with sandalwood soap and his Drakker Noir aftershave.
I’d always be watching for his hands to grow claws and his teeth to get longer. Sharper.
The hallway floor outside Karl’s door was covered with a crimson and midnight patterned carpet that absorbed my heels as I walked. I couldn’t remember which way I’d come in and there was nothing as prosaic as signs on the wall pointing the way to the restaurant. Glowing words spelling, “Exit” and I headed toward the light, but when I got there a red-lettered warned me not to open the door unless there was an emergency.
Does discovering the man you just had sex with shifts into a monster when he gets excited, does that count?
As an emergency?
While his change scared me, he was still a very interesting man. A man with so many problems. First, his sexual deviance, that would have shocked me a few days ago, but it’s not the end of the world. Like many college girls I had read Roquelaure and James. I’d seen the girls in the park. I’d played with my neighbor. Bondage and discipline sex wasn’t a novel idea to me.
In fact, I had spent many a night with the Claiming of Beauty series a few years ago, before I decided I needed to find something more realistic to fantasize about.
I just couldn’t see myself talking about or even hinting at those desires with the well-scrubbed boys who asked me for dates.
So, that part of Karl’s problem wasn’t a show stopper.
Then why was I running from him?
The monster thing, of course. That’s different.
I’d read stories about shifters. People who turn into monsters. Vampires. Werewolves. Beasts. Other things. But I’d never imagined there could be any truth behind those tales.
What I knew of science said changing into a wolf was impossible. Magic.
We all learn growing up that whatever magic once existed on this earth went away a long time ago. Fairies, Goblins, Vampires, Shapeshifters, these were all legends of the distant past, not something that could happen today. Serial killers, school murderers, marathon bombers, angry old men with guns in movie theaters, the news showed actual monsters each night. But none of our modern monsters were magic.
Not in real life.
I arrived at a mirror and a dark wooden table. A silver vase on its top held a spray of fresh roses.
I stopped to smell them.
Real. I must still be in the exclusive arm of the hotel.
I would’ve noticed the roses if I’d passed them before, so I must have turned wrong when I rushed from Karl’s room. I didn’t want to go back the way I came.
Maybe I’d see him coming out of his door. Maybe I’d see some more willing girl entering.
I was sure that at some point there would be a sign for a way to an exit that wouldn’t set off any alarms.
I hurried on past the mirror and the roses, thinking more about Karl, about why I didn’t want to see him and why I didn’t want to see someone else going into his room.
What about Jack? Does he know?
I thought back on them laughing and joking during our meal. Jack had a lot of sports jokes he shared with Detective Cale, who didn’t laugh aloud but instead smiled
He showed me his palms, naked now, like a human’s.
“Already changing back. Stay, Grace.”
“I’m sorry…too weird.”
I smoothed my dress around my hips, found my shoes, not seeing my bra and not caring.
I turned on my heel and rushed through the door, almost knocking down the waitress.
She looked shocked. By me.
The waitress pushed a dessert try loaded with amazing looking pies and cakes, covered with white foamy whipped cream and fresh looking fruit.
Damn, I should’ve stayed for dessert.
But I knew if I spent one more minute looking at Karl Norman’s perfect features I would throw myself in his lap and kiss his face from the collar of his shirt to the line of his curly hair with its damn full moon highlights. I’d sniff around his collar and behind his ears for the scent of his clean sweat mixed with sandalwood soap and his Drakker Noir aftershave.
I’d always be watching for his hands to grow claws and his teeth to get longer. Sharper.
The hallway floor outside Karl’s door was covered with a crimson and midnight patterned carpet that absorbed my heels as I walked. I couldn’t remember which way I’d come in and there was nothing as prosaic as signs on the wall pointing the way to the restaurant. Glowing words spelling, “Exit” and I headed toward the light, but when I got there a red-lettered warned me not to open the door unless there was an emergency.
Does discovering the man you just had sex with shifts into a monster when he gets excited, does that count?
As an emergency?
While his change scared me, he was still a very interesting man. A man with so many problems. First, his sexual deviance, that would have shocked me a few days ago, but it’s not the end of the world. Like many college girls I had read Roquelaure and James. I’d seen the girls in the park. I’d played with my neighbor. Bondage and discipline sex wasn’t a novel idea to me.
In fact, I had spent many a night with the Claiming of Beauty series a few years ago, before I decided I needed to find something more realistic to fantasize about.
I just couldn’t see myself talking about or even hinting at those desires with the well-scrubbed boys who asked me for dates.
So, that part of Karl’s problem wasn’t a show stopper.
Then why was I running from him?
The monster thing, of course. That’s different.
I’d read stories about shifters. People who turn into monsters. Vampires. Werewolves. Beasts. Other things. But I’d never imagined there could be any truth behind those tales.
What I knew of science said changing into a wolf was impossible. Magic.
We all learn growing up that whatever magic once existed on this earth went away a long time ago. Fairies, Goblins, Vampires, Shapeshifters, these were all legends of the distant past, not something that could happen today. Serial killers, school murderers, marathon bombers, angry old men with guns in movie theaters, the news showed actual monsters each night. But none of our modern monsters were magic.
Not in real life.
I arrived at a mirror and a dark wooden table. A silver vase on its top held a spray of fresh roses.
I stopped to smell them.
Real. I must still be in the exclusive arm of the hotel.
I would’ve noticed the roses if I’d passed them before, so I must have turned wrong when I rushed from Karl’s room. I didn’t want to go back the way I came.
Maybe I’d see him coming out of his door. Maybe I’d see some more willing girl entering.
I was sure that at some point there would be a sign for a way to an exit that wouldn’t set off any alarms.
I hurried on past the mirror and the roses, thinking more about Karl, about why I didn’t want to see him and why I didn’t want to see someone else going into his room.
What about Jack? Does he know?
I thought back on them laughing and joking during our meal. Jack had a lot of sports jokes he shared with Detective Cale, who didn’t laugh aloud but instead smiled
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