Page 158 of Secret Shifters Next Door

“Like I said to April. It’s Steff. He’s not himself.”

Tate was silent for several seconds before he spoke again. “In what way? Short-tempered? Angry outbursts? Pissy mood?”

“Uh… well, yeah. That’s exactly it. Do you know what’s going on? Is this part of being a shifter?”

Tate sighed. “Has Steff had a conversation with you yet?”

“What kind? About the curse, you mean?”

“Crap. I told him he needed to get this out in the open. It’s gonna eat him alive if he doesn’t. I’ll handle it, April. I’ll be there soon.”

He ended the call before I could answer. Tate had seemed irritated, but not at me. So, clearly, the way Steff had acted had something to do with the curse. That was another thing I wanted to be behind us. I wanted to be with Steff forever, but deciding to completely change who and what I was had a very disturbing effect on me. It was a huge decision. Bigger than marriage, bigger than having kids, bigger than anything. I wanted him to claim me, but I was still working up my courage to ask him. Could that be the problem? Was he angry that I hadn’t asked him to bite me yet? That seemed petty and below Steff. Surely it had to be something else.

I put the sandwich plate on the floor and Bently scrambled off the couch to gulp down the food. Grinning at him, I said, “At least someone gets to enjoy my cooking today.”

Once I finished the dishes, I decided to go take a shower because I didn’t know what else to do while I waited for Tate and Steff to get here. Halfway up the stairs, the doorbell rang. There was no way Tate could have gotten here that fast, and Steff wouldn’t have rung the doorbell. He had a key.

A glance at my watch told me it was too early for the mail. My heart started hammering in my chest. Frozen on the stairs, I looked at the front door. It took on a sudden and unexplainable malevolence. Like it was a portal to hell. Steeling myself, I forced myself to move toward the door. Even as I moved, I realized this was usually the moment in a horror movie that I’d be screaming at the main characternotto go near the door. Yet, here I was, doing exactly that.

Once I was by the door, I pulled up the camera feed on the control panel on the wall. The security system Steff’s team installed had several cameras at the front and back of the house.At that moment, the camera showed no one at the front door. My anxiety eased a little. Rewinding the feed by five minutes, the actual perpetrator showed up on the screen, and I let out a sigh of relief.

The video showed a guy in a brown delivery uniform walking up onto my deck. He had a matching brown hat pulled onto his head, and he was looking down at a clipboard, so I couldn’t see his face. He put a box on the doorstep, rang the bell, and walked away. Rolling my eyes at my paranoia, I chuckled to myself. Christ, I was looking for monsters under every rock and around every corner. I’d been seconds away from calling the police. For what? To tell them a delivery guy was dropping off the sandals I’d ordered two days ago?

With the disarm code punched in, I unlocked the door and glanced outside. Definitely in the clear, not a person around. The box was on the doormat. I picked it up and closed the door behind me. It probablywasthe sandals I’d ordered. I couldn’t think of anything else I was expecting. Setting the box on the kitchen island, I started cutting through the packing tape with a knife.

Something rattled in the box. That was weird. It almost sounded like there were rocks inside. Maybe Steff had ordered something? I moved the flaps of the box aside and froze. There was an envelope inside the package, and another smaller box. That was weird. Definitely not sandals. The box wasn’t big enough. The envelope had my name written on it in blue ink. My fingers shook as I tore open the envelope.

The paper inside had a single line of text written in the same script:

Snitches get stitches.You’re welcome, April. Enjoy the peace and quiet.

My heart hammeredin my chest, and I stared at the smaller box in terror. The seconds ticked by like hours, my hands unable to open the box. Finally, finding some reservoir of courage I didn’t know I had, I wrapped my fingers around the smaller box. That rattling sounded again. Wanting it over, wanting to go ahead and rip the Band-Aid off, I slid the box lid off and clapped a hand over my mouth to stifle my scream. There was a polaroid picture of Luca, his face covered in bruises, cuts, and contusions. His eyes were rolled in the back of his head and blood trickled out of his mouth.

Air exploded out of my lungs so fast and I gulped to get some of my breath back. With trembling fingers, I lifted the picture… and screamed. I screamed in a way I didn’t know was possible. It was deep and guttural. My lungs threatened to collapse, to explode—I wasn’t sure which. Beneath the photo was a severed tongue and at least a dozen teeth. Each tooth was ivory white and spattered with blood.

I stumbled away from the box, my knees buckling. I collapsed to the floor, my screams so loud they hurt my own ears, but I couldn’t stop. I didn’t even hear the door smash in. Steff sprinted into the room with Tate close behind him.

“What’s wrong?” Steff yelled. “What happened?”

All I could do was point at the box. Steff knelt beside me, cradling me in his arms as Tate walked toward the island. My screams finally subsided, with the comfort of Steff’s arms around me. It was quiet in the house when we heard Tate hiss a disgusted breath.

“Holy fucking Christ,” he murmured, turning away from the box. He glanced at Steff. “Get her upstairs. I’ll call the cops.”

“What the hell is it, Tate?” Steff asked.

Tate waved at the stairs. “Bro, get her upstairs, okay?”

Not questioning him again, Steff scooped me into his arms and carried me up the stairs. Laying me in bed, he pulled myshoes off and crawled in next to me, holding me close. I was shivering and could feel my mind trying to separate itself from my body. Was this what it was like to go crazy? Could I be on the verge of a full mental breakdown?

“I’m gonna throw up,” I wheezed as I leaped from the bed and ran toward the bathroom.

Steff was behind me in a flash and held my hair back as I dry heaved into the toilet. I hadn’t had any breakfast, so the only thing that came up was some of the coffee I’d had. Still, I couldn’t stop gagging. I kept seeing Luca’s severed tongue and ripped-out teeth. Each time I pictured it, another spasm hit my stomach. Steff kept rubbing my back, murmuring something, but I couldn’t hear what he was saying. Honestly, I didn’t care.

Finally I was done, and I wiped my mouth with toilet paper before lowering myself to the floor and leaning against the wall. I felt feverish, my body aching and exhausted. Tears were still leaking from my eyes, but I had myself mostly under control again.

Steff stood in the doorway, talking to Tate. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but Steff’s face went pale in shock, then red with rage. Tate patted his shoulder and went back downstairs. I could hear sirens in the distance. Steff was kneeling beside me, his face a mask of agony and regret.

“I’m sorry, April. I shouldn’t have left you. I’m so sorry.”

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