What really surprised me was that nobody made any effort to come near me. Jack spent a lot of time studying maps and stuff on the computers with Keith. Chaz studiously avoided me, save for when our paths crossing was unavoidable. I hadn’t been able to bring myself to try changing my clothes or showering again since last night. Even Bo didn’t come by to wish me well or see how I was doing.
Nikki brought me food at mealtimes, but she didn’t stick around, and no one came to visit me while I lounged on the couch.
I got up now and then to stretch, walking despite how much it hurt to get up and move around. With every hour, the pain became less. However, I’d noticed a low-grade fever. Yet another sign of the impending change. My appetite roared to life within hours of Chaz’s dressing me last night, and hadn’t abated since, no matter how much I ate. Even with the fever and the queasy reaction my stomach was having at the smell of the Sunstrikers, I was always hungry. Oddly, I craved sweets and carbohydrates instead of meat, as I had that morning I’d woken up from my bender at the other hideout a few weeks ago.
Chaz was in the kitchen sipping at a cup of water when I went to scrounge in the fridge. I ignored him as much as I had every other time I’d come across him in the house. With a few savage moves, shifting things around, I found a tub of cream cheese and set it on the counter, digging around in the cabinets for some crackers or bagels to spread it on.
He watched the whole time, his butt propped against the counter, and a calculating gleam in his eye. I knew the look. He was planning something that involved me. Not that I cared overmuch. His thoughts had always been fairly transparent and straightforward—other than the lies, that was. And I wasn’t interested in playing his games anymore.
He set the glass aside as I found a box of Ritz crackers and grabbed the cream cheese, intending to hightail it back to my couch.
“Shia?”
I stopped, not looking at him.
“There’s a place for you in our pack. Whether you turn or not. You have a place to go.”
That sounded way too much like Royce for my peace of mind. With a snarl, I rushed out of there, not wanting to face him or have to consider that too closely.
Simon was sitting on the couch when I finally reached the top of Mount Stairwell. I nearly wept. Exhausted from the effort it had taken to get back up the stairs by myself without collapsing or toppling backwards, all I’d wanted was to sprawl on what passed for my bed.
He’d settled right in the middle, his arms over the back, and gave me a smirk when I came to a swaying halt in front of him.
“You mind?”
He arched his brows, giving me a faux-innocent look. “Not at all. Why?”
Simon always had been an asshole. His dark, slanted eyes watched me with a mischievous glitter; he knew he was being a dick and that there was nothing I could do about it.
It was a very Were thing to do. He was challenging me.
Dredging up the nerve from somewhere deep down, I dropped the containers on either side of him and circled behind the couch. He turned his head to follow my movements. Though my gait was unsteady, I didn’t falter.
I braced my hands on the back of the couch, on either side of his narrow shoulders. He started to twist around, his expression suddenly shifting from cocksure to wary, regarding me with suspicion. This was really going to hurt.
I bent at the waist and pecked a kiss on his cheek.
With an explosive growl, he practically leapt to the ceiling, vacating the couch and plastering himself against the opposite wall. His hair, a lovely sable color, had been combed flat moments ago, but was now standing on end, and his eyes were a bright amber color similar to my own.
I grinned, maintaining the pose, though it was making my eyes water. “Thanks. Appreciate your keeping the couch warm for me.”
He loosed another thunderous growl and stalked off, highly offended.
With a groan and a crack, I straightened my back, pressing the small of it with the heels of both palms. Though I couldn’t maintain the position for long, I couldn’t have done that at all last night. Whatever was going on in my body was healing me much faster than was normal.
Tired and sore, I moved around to sink into the cushions, no longer interested in the food.
The doubts about whether I’d be turning Were were almost nil at this point. There was no other explanation for the healing, the heightened senses, the way my stomach had been rebelling, or the fever. I’d been putting off deciding how I’d deal with the moment when it came. All month, I’d been doing my best to deny it. Now that the time was at hand, and I was no longer distracted by my need to hunt Chaz to the ends of the earth, there was plenty of time to consider my options and make a decision.
Yet it was the last thing I wanted to do.
My nose felt sore. I rubbed at it absently, then glanced at my hand. It came away streaked with red. Another nosebleed.
“Need a tissue?”
Jack was at the top of the stairs, watching me with those flat, dead eyes.
“Sure, if you’ve got one on you.”
He wandered closer to sit on the end of the couch by my feet, leaning over to hand me a cloth handkerchief from his back pocket. I pressed the dark blue fabric to my nose, closing my eyes as I tilted my head back.
Jack and I sat together in relatively companionable silence for a while. I’m sure he had better things to do, but maybe the reason he came to sit with me was because he knew no one would bother him while he was here.
Usually I was the one who got nervous and broke the quiet. He surprised me by speaking first.
“Tomorrow’s the day.”
Like he needed to tell me that.
“We’ll be facing down the Ravenwoods. It’s probably better if you don’t know where.”
Yes. God forbid I should turn and decide to follow the scent of the hunters for my first meal as a mindless beast.
“The cage I told you about. It’s in the lowest basement of this building. I’ll take you down there before we go. Lock you in.”
That sent a chill through me. What kind of building needed more than one basement? What did they do in the other ones? “Should I bring anything with me?”
He shrugged, patting my leg lightly. It was an awkward move, as if he wasn’t quite sure how to be comforting and it was the best he could come up with. “A book, maybe. You’ll be down there a while. The lock is silver, so if you turn, you won’t be able to open it or touch the bars. If you don’t turn, you can come out after moonrise and wait for us here. Doc Morrow will be by. He’ll probably need some extra hands to deal with the injuries after the battle.”
It seemed a bit naive of him to think after all the signs I was showing that I wouldn’t turn. I appreciated the thought, even if I had no faith that I was still human. Too many signs pointed otherwise. I’d had my skin broken multiple times by shifted Weres. If Dillon’s scratch hadn’t infected me, no doubt one of the others had. Even Chaz thought I smelled like an Other—though the mentions of the scent of vampire clinging to me did make me wonder if maybe there was something about this process I was missing.
Maybe my agitation over these thoughts was making things worse. The blood trickling out of my nose suddenly became a steady flow. Cursing, I sat up, balling up the handkerchief and pinching the bridge of my nose.
Jack’s brows knitted as he watched me attempt to stem the tide. “Are you all right?”
My nose was clogged up, making it difficult to speak. “Yeah. It doesn’t hurt.”
He gave my leg another awkward pat, then leaned back into one of the cushions with one arm propping himself up, making himself comfortable. I had the feeling he was going to hide up here with me as long as he could.