Page 7 of It All Started with a Bite

“Probably?!” I snarled. The word came out more growl than human speech. I blinked, momentarily shocked.

“You really pack a punch,” he mumbled, still rubbing his chin. He flinched at the sound of my knuckles cracking. “Look, I’m really sorry I bit you. I’m Hugh, by the way.” He brightened a little and offered his hand. “Hugh Hawthorne.”

I slapped it away. “I don’t care if you’re the Hugh with the claws from the movies!” I jabbed a furry finger at him. “Fix this, whatever the hell it?—!”

I froze as his words finally sank in. The dots connected inside my head like death knells. I looked jerkily at my hand.

“It was the bite?!” I said hoarsely.

“Yeah,” he said, contrite. “There’s not a lot I can do to fix it.” He swallowed at my glower. “But my older brother can probably help. Samuel is the alpha of our pack and our problem fixer, so I’m sure he’ll?—”

I held out a hand, stopping him mid-flow. I was pretty certain I’d heard him wrong.

“Could you repeat that?”

“My brother’s the alpha of our pack. You know, like a wolf pack?” A nervous chuckle left him. “Because we’re werewolves? Well, I am anyway and now apparently, so are you.”

“Told you so,” Bo muttered from behind the couch.

I stared blindly at Hugh’s glassy smile. My chest tightened as my sick new reality began sinking in.

“Werewolves aren’t real,” I denied.

My life was complicated enough without me turning into a four-legged monster that howled at the moon and avoided silverware.

“Says the woman currently sporting more facial hair than a Viking,” Hugh said.

I lunged for him. Ellie grabbed my arm.

“No more punching the werewolf.” She waved the bat warningly at Hugh. “Even if he deserves it.”

“He totally deserves it,” Bo said indignantly. “Abby looks terrible. I’m never going to live this down at the dog park.”

The hamster wheel started squeaking in my head again.

Hugh’s eyes bulged. “Your dog talks?!”

“Apparently that’s a thing now,” I managed between gritted teeth.

“Why do you keep saying Bo’s talking?” Ellie said, puzzled.

Hugh and I stared at her.

“You can’t hear him?” I asked.

“No.” Ellie glanced suspiciously at Bo. “Is he really talking to you?”

“Yeah,” I muttered.

“You should hear what Ellie says to her plants,” Bo grumbled. “Also, she lied about that speeding ticket she got when she was driving your car last summer. She had her coochie waxed that day and was rushing home to ice it.”

Hugh and I exchanged a look.

“Maybe your dog has werewolf blood in him?” he hazarded.

We studied Bo. He was attempting to discreetly lick his balls.

“Which part?” I said.

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