Page 34 of It All Started with a Bite

Charlene ignored him. Her knuckles whitened on the phone handle and her expression turned glassy.

The guard dove under the desk and came up with what looked like industrial-grade ear protection.

“Here!” He tossed two sets of noise-canceling headphones at Bo and me. “Put these on! Now!” he said urgently.

I caught them reflexively, confused until I saw the way Charlene’s eyes were glowing with an otherworldly light.

Bo ducked behind me.

I stared in horrified fascination as the receptionist’s hair unwound itself from her top knot and began to lengthen, the tips turning silver as they levitated around her face.

“Sir,” Charlene ground into the receiver, her voice taking on an echoing quality that made the hairs on my neck rise. “For the last time, we do not?—”

Her mouth split to gargantuan proportions.

“Put your headphones on!” the guard yelled, already wearing his own pair.

I slipped my headphones on and barely got Bo’s on him before Charlene lost it completely.

Her shriek shattered every piece of glass in the lobby. The security desk cracked down the middle. Three ceramic planters exploded, showering dirt across the marble floor. Even with the ear protection, the sound made my teeth vibrate and Bo whimper.

The echoes finally died down. The security guard removed his headphones, his expression weary. I hesitated before slowly taking mine and Bo’s off.

Charlene looked mortified.

“I am so sorry,” she said in a normal voice. She hung up the phone. “That’s the fifth time this week someone’s called about kraken insurance.” Her hair was coiling back into a bun and her eyes had stopped glowing.

“It’s probably just a prank, Charlene.” The guard picked up another phone and dialed a number. “Hi, Janet? Yeah, we need someone from Risk Assessment down here. Charlene had another moment.” He paused. “No, no windows this time, just the glassware, some planters, and the desk. Thanks.”

Bo was staring wide-eyed at Charlene. “This is my first time seeing a real-life banshee.”

“Banshees exist?” I asked warily.

“It’s about time you came to terms with your supernatural life,” he huffed.

Charlene pretended she hadn’t heard any of this, cleared her throat, and pasted a professional smile across her face. “How may I help you?”

“I’m Abigail West. I’m here to see Samuel Haw?—”

A sudden change came over Charlene and the guard.

They stared at me with dawning awe and respect.

I looked over my shoulder just in case someone else had walked into the building. Like Pearl or Victoria.

Charlene beamed. “You are the new Hawthorne luna. Everyone is excited to meet you.”

The guard nodded shyly.

I wrinkled my brow. “Samuel told you guys about me?”

“Hugh Hawthorne did,” the guard said.

My mouth pressed to a thin line. Figures.

Bo looked at me. “Your future brother-in-law is a liability.”

“I’m Charlene Armstrong, reception and front desk security,” Charlene said. “I’m a banshee.”

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