Page 627 of Love Bites

I wished I wasn’t so tired. Since my injuries had been so substantial (Billy Bob’s words), I didn’t have the same energy I’d had pre-kidnapping. The only time I felt any kind of normalcy was after a full moon shift, but my upbringing as an integrator made it difficult for me to give over to my animal side. The advantage to living in a therian community is that I didn’t have to hide my second nature, but I couldn’t bring myself to let my coyote flag fly.

I put in my ear buds and plugged in an audiobook. Listening to stories let me travel to other places while I did my chores. Really, it had become my favorite part of the day. Forty minutes later, or thereabout, I put away the mop, cleaned out the bucket, and turned off the book. I turned the lights off from inside the kitchen where a master switch controlled everything but the refrigerated units. My bed was calling me hard, and I considered waiting until morning to shower.

Since my apartment was over the restaurant, it would take me ten seconds to get home and on my way to bed. But first, I had to take out the garbage to the bin outside. We kept a Dumpster at the back of the restaurant as far from the backdoor as possible. I didn’t bother turning on the lights again since I knew the path by heart. As I carried two large bags of stinky trash to the large bin, I fantasized about my fluffy mattress and my bamboo pillow.

The next thing I knew I was airborne, the garbage bags flying in different directions. I managed to twist, landing on my shoulder and hip.

What the hell?

I rolled to a sitting position and leaned forward, trying to see what I had tripped over. My palms slid around in a wet, sticky puddle. I noticed my shirt was soaked, and now that the shock wore off, I could smell the metallic tinge of blood and something else. Sweet like root beer, only spicier. I scrabbled backward, heart racing. I popped to my feet, returned to the kitchen, and turned on the outside lights.

Less than a foot from the back door laid a human-like body. It had no hair. No skin. No face. Its hollowed sockets stared blindly upward, and its mouth gaped wide, revealing straight, even teeth. My stomach roiled with nausea as I viewed the meaty red corpse.

Blood soaked the ground, offering a terrifying backdrop for a horrific display of what had once been a person.

They found me. The hunters. A warning about—no. No. They were dead. Each and every one of them. Dead, dead.

Your enemies are no more, little sister.

I took immediate comfort from the imaginary voice, and my panic subsided.

I scrambled into the kitchen, shutting and locking the door behind me. I tried to slow down my heaving breaths and calm my pounding pulse.

You are safe.

What a messed up lie, I thought. I wasn’t safe. I’m not sure I’d ever been. But the voice once again helped me to clear my jumbled thoughts. I dug my cell phone out of the back pocket of my jeans, tapped it open, and dialed the Sheriff’s office.

“Deputy Farraday,” a man said. “How can I help you?”

“Eldin,” I said, my voice shaking. “This is Chavvah. You need to wake up the sheriff.”