first two sentences over and over, unable to believe Harrison was being so frank with her. He certainly didn’t sound like whoever had impersonated him before. Heart pounding in her chest, she pulled the charger cord out of the phone and lay on the bed as she typed a response.
I’m about to leave. I’m packing right now.
Five minutes passed so she went back to stuffing her folded clothes into her suitcase distractedly, eyes coasting time and time again to the silent phone nestled on the pillow.
A knock sounded at the door. Maybe it was housekeeping. They hadn’t been by yet today. She pulled open the door and there stood Harrison, even taller, wider, and more intimidating than she remembered.
“H-hello,” she said.
His eyes tightened slightly at the corners as he looked her over. “I’ve been sitting in the parking lot for an hour trying to talk myself out of knocking. This is a bad idea.”
“Uh, okay,” she said, looking around at her small hotel room. “Do you want to come in?”
Harrison strode past and rounded on her as soon as she closed the door. “I know what you are. I mean I could guess now that I smell you. You aren’t wearing that migraine-inducing perfume to mask your fur anymore. But…I mean I looked you up.”
Her heart sank to her toes and, feeling unstable, she sat on the chair by the two-seater table. “That’s bad news.”
“What? Why?”
“I don’t like people knowing about that part of my life.”
Harrison sat on the very edge of the bed and clasped his hands in front of him. “Explain.”
“That’s the point, Harrison. I don’t want to explain to anyone.”
“You don’t like being a shifter.” It was a statement, not a question, as if he already knew the answer.
“It’s not that I don’t like it. I just don’t understand anything about myself. I grew up with a human dad. The animal came from my mom, but I never knew her.”
“You haven’t met other shifters?”
“Not until Shifter Night, which is the actual reason I was on Bangaboarlander.com. It wasn’t for some shifter booty call. My dad just wanted me to find someone like myself so I don’t feel so…I don’t know…ashamed.”
“Ashamed.” Harrison rolled backward and locked his arms on the bed, then let off a single laugh. “Ashamed?” he repeated. “Woman, you’re a fucking tiger shifter. There’s no room for shame. Only badassery.”
“Yeah, you know, that’s what everyone thinks, but that’s not the way it is. I have no control over my Changes, and I know nothing about shifter rules or appropriate behavior except what I’ve read on Cora Keller’s website. That’s pathetic, Harrison. All I’ve learned about myself is from the internet. It wasn’t exactly my choice to come out and register.”
Harrison’s brows lowered. “Why did you then?”
“I was forced. God, this is so embarrassing,” she muttered, her cheeks blazing. “I had an uncontrolled Change in my Jeep during rush-hour traffic on the way into the city. Those marks on the back seats? I did that, trying to escape my damned ride. In standstill traffic. The police had to tranquilize me. And now there’s all these awful pictures on the internet of me lying on the pavement, all glossy-eyed with a dart sticking out of my shoulder.”
Harrison snorted, but then coughed to cover it up.
“It’s not funny. I was traumatized. Still am.”
“Clearly, because you came seeking safety with the Boarlanders .”
An accidental smile cracked her lips, but she pursed them together to hide it. “This really isn’t funny. I’m super messed up.”
“Disagree. Clinton is messed up. Bash is messed up. I’m messed up. Hell, the entirety of the Gray Back Crew is messed up. From where I’m sitting, you’re the most normal shifter I’ve met.”
“Mmm,” she murmured. “You haven’t seen my animal. She’s a bloodletting, rip-roaring, claws-out, bitey she-demon.” A long snarl rattled her throat and tapered off