Wanted: Wild Thing (Midnight Liaisons) by Jessica Sims

a man to give my virginity to before my twenty-fifth birthday arrives.”
    He said nothing.
    That infuriated me all over again. “And furthermore, if I find my True Love, I won’t turn when he touches me. I just have to find him before I hit my birthday.”
    Hugh remained silent. Was he irritated that I knew so much already? Had he and Finian conspired to withhold this information from me?
    “Well?” I said.
    “So this is your plan? To find a human man and have relations with him?”
    “It beats the alternative, don’t you think?”
    “You do realize that your changeling body is much stronger than a normal human body?”
    “So?”
    “So you might overcome a human male. You could damage him or even kill him.”
    I swallowed hard. Hugh said he never lied. “Then I’ll have to find a nonhuman man, won’t I? I can get a nice shifter guy to hook up with.” I’d just have to explain my little “problem” and hope for the best. Surely someone that changed into another shape himself wouldn’t mind that I changed into . . . something.
    “I’ll have to prevent it.” Hugh’s look was stony.
    “You will not!”
    His smile was cruel. “Why do you think Finian sent me to your side now? You are getting desperate to escape your curse. You’ll try anything . . . and I’m going to be at your side to make sure it doesn’t happen.”
    “I hate you,” I spat at him, throwing the quilt down on the couch. “You’re an awful, awful man.”
    He gave me a grim look. “I know. But that is how it must be.”
    I stomped to my room, slamming the door.
    D espite my fury and the bizarre events of the day, I slept soundly and woke up around noon. My condo was quiet and I sat up, cocking my head and listening for Hugh. I could hear nothing. Even putting my ear to my bedroom door, I could hear nothing. I tossed a robe over my frilly pink pajamas and went to check things out.
    Immediately, there were signs of Hugh. I picked up an empty Pop-Tart wrapper in the hallway and, a few steps later, a demolished chip bag. Half-eaten cookies were crumbled on the wooden floors, and it looked like the contents of my pantry had been strewn about and taste-tested, including boxes of uncooked spaghetti noodles. I could hear water running somewhere in the house and headed toward that.
    The tap was running in the kitchen sink, and I turned it off, frowning. The room was an unmitigated disaster area. My electric stove had been turned on; the burners were bright red, and I quickly clicked them off. The refrigerator door hung open, and plastic wrapping covered the floor, including an empty package of steak and some tubing that had held ground beef for the spaghetti I’d planned on making for dinner.
    Irritated, I swiped the wrapping up and tossed it in the trash. “Hugh?”
    No answer.
    He’d left? That made no sense. He’d declared he was going to be my shadow for the next month; why would he leave me here by myself? I could almost think I’d imagined the whole thing if it hadn’t been for the fact that every bit of food I owned had at least one bite taken out of it.
    I walked down the hall of my small condo again. “Hugh? You here?”
    Still no answer. I checked all the doors—even the closet—but nothing. I went to the front door to check outside . . . and it wouldn’t open. I tugged at the handle. Nothing. Alarmed, I ran my hand along the door frame, looking for something jamming it, but there was nothing. It just didn’t respond. I could turn the handle, but the door was stuck fast.
    Perplexed, I took a step back. What to do now?
    There was nothing to do but wait. I went back to my room and showered and dressed. Wearing my favorite pink-and-white tracksuit with a pair of sneaker pumps, I blow-dried my hair, fixed it into two topknots with puffy pink bands, and curled my bangs. Then, as I waited for Hugh to return, I set about cleaning the mess that he had left.
    I’d just finished sweeping the last of the crumbs off my