Authors: Margo Bond Collins
Under Her Skin (2 page)
I sat in my car, hands gripping the steering wheel in front of me. The entrance to the Kindred Hospital glowed a fluorescent white in the darkness. I’d never been inside, never thought I’d had a reason to.
My adoptive parents taught me early on to avoid anything that might give me away—medical exams were not a possibility, so I never went to a hospital. They homeschooled me until I was twelve and they were sure I had my shifting under control so I could go to school with other children.
I don’t know how old I was when Dad found me. He’s a biology professor who specializes in snakes—a herpetologist who brought home what he thought was an adolescent individual of a new species, a snake that flared its hood like a cobra. He was stunned to find a toddler curled up in the tank the next morning, and even more surprised when he actually saw me shift from one form to another.
Finding a new breed of snake would have made him famous, at least among certain circles.
Finding a weresnake made him a father.
My knuckles turned white as I tried to convince myself to go inside the hospital. There might be answers in there. But I wasn’t sure I wanted answers.
I jumped at a sharp rap on the window. Moreland leaned in as I rolled it down.
“You coming?” he asked.
“Yeah.” I grabbed my purse and hung it over my shoulder, then took a deep breath and followed the detective inside.
Most hospitals smell the same: of antiseptic, saline, medicine, with an undertone of death. Another smell underlay those here; something sharp and new to me.
Shapeshifters, maybe?
A small, dark-haired nurse met us outside Emma’s room. The girl lay in the bed, staring up at the ceiling.
“The doctor will be here momentarily to speak to her,” the nurse said quietly, “and then I’ll do a rape kit. You’re the counselor?” She turned to me.
I nodded. “Lindi Parker. Do you want me to talk to her about the kit?”
“That might be helpful. I’ve already spoken to her, but she might need to hear it again.” She moved further out into the hall with Moreland.
Emma glanced at me as I entered the room, then back up at the ceiling.
“Hi, Emma. You know what’s going to happen here?” I asked, working to keep my voice gentle.
Emma’s brow furrowed. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
A deep voice interrupted from the doorway. “I’d like to hear, too, Emma.”
I glanced up and drew in a breath to speak, to encourage Emma to verbalize what she knew, but the words never left my mouth.
Emma’s doctor stood framed in the doorway, a half-smile arrested on his face, his light brown eyes wide as he stared at me in shock.
The smell of him filled the room—almost spicy, and utterly terrifying. I froze, but the muscles under my skin rippled. Sucking in air, I flicked my tongue out across my lips. His scent flowed through my mouth. He tasted like heat, but not like prey. Like a threat.
He smelled like danger, and I was about to shift.
Oh, hell.
The room swung into shades of gray and I blinked quickly to keep him from seeing the slitted pupils of my partially shifted eyes.
I closed my mouth and breathed deeply through my nose, focusing on my mammal senses, the human part of me. I glanced down at the floor and waited for the colors to come flooding back. Once I was in control of myself, I looked back up at him.
With a shudder that trembled through his entire body, he shook himself out of his immobility.
The whole thing couldn’t have lasted for more than a few seconds, but I was drenched in sweat.
“Hi, Emma.” His voice was calm, but his hand trembled as he reached up to adjust the stethoscope hanging around his neck.
“Hi, Dr. Nevala,” Emma said.
This was where all the shifters went, she had said. Clearly, she already knew the doctor.
He moved closer to her and I backed away, making sure I never turned my back on him. He busied himself listening to her chest and murmuring to her. The familiar tasks apparently steadied him and his own shaking stopped.
I stepped out of the room and leaned against the wall right outside the door, trying to calm my racing heart.
What just happened in there?
Brushing my hair back off my forehead, I straightened, taking a deep breath and blowing it back out. The nurse turned the corner and headed back into the room.
I need to go back—it’s my job to help Emma through this.
But my heart was still thudding and my mouth tasted like copper and fear.
Dad always said that I should remember that I was a person first—that whatever else I might be, I was human. His lessons had helped me learn to control my shifting. I ignored the other part of me as much as I could, keeping it pushed as far under my humanity as possible.
I can control it now, too.
But I felt the muscles of my back rippling as my body tried to fight me.
“You okay?” Moreland’s voice made me jump.
“Yeah. Fine. Just a little rough in there,” I said.
“Always is with the kids.” He shook his head. “I’ve got a uniform coming to stay with her until the mom gets here. Tomorrow, if the doctor okays it, we’ll start moving her through the family court system, figure out what to do with her.”
I bit my lip. “I believe her, Dan. What she said to me, her body language, all of it was congruent. I think she was being sexually assaulted.”
“Then we’ll get her help,” he said. “That’s why you’re on the team.” He put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed lightly, silent support flowing through the touch and calming me.
“I need to go sit with her while they do the kit,” I said, as a uniformed officer stepped around the corner. Moreland waved an acknowledgment at me as he moved to meet the other policeman.
I took a bracing breath and stepped back into the room. Dr. Nevala was still talking to Emma. He tensed when I entered, but he didn’t look up at me.
Now that I wasn’t overcome with sheer physical terror, I could see that he didn’t loom over me, as I had first thought. He couldn’t have been more than an inch or two over my own 5’7”. But he had enough presence to fill up the tiny hospital room. Emma and the nurse both seemed enthralled by him.
I leaned against the wall, willing myself still.
“Okay, Emma,” Nevala said. “In a minute, I’ll do the swab, just like we discussed.”
Emma’s eyes flickered over to me.
“Would you like me to hold your hand?” I asked.
“Yes, please.” She spoke softly.
Nevala stiffened at the sound of my voice, but his hands were gentle on the child. She clutched my fingers while he completed the exam, but she never even whimpered.
The doctor didn’t look at me as he said goodbye to Emma and walked away.
* * *
I pulled out my smartphone as soon as I left the hospital room.
As awful as sitting with Emma had been, focusing on my job had calmed my nerves after Nevala had left.
I opened my notes file and began tapping away, taking down my impressions before I forgot them. The uniformed officer standing outside the doorway nodded as I walked by. Though I had worked with him before, I couldn’t remember his name.
The exam had been unpleasant, of course, but Emma had held up well. The nurse had given her a mild sedative. I had left Emma sleeping, after making sure both she and the nurse had a copy of my card.
I hadn’t had another chance to talk to her alone. I didn’t know what I would have said, anyway, didn’t know where to start discussing something that had been my biggest secret all my life. Wasn’t sure discussing my shapeshifting with a traumatized child was anything I was willing to do.
So instead, I focused on work. It was late, almost two in the morning. My boss, Gloria, would have wanted me to call, but I wasn’t going to wake her up. She slept little enough as it was. I would go home, turn the notes I was taking into a report, and then get some rest. Tomorrow was the weekly CAP-C Community Initiative board meeting; I could give my report to everyone then.
I was so intent on keying in my notes that I didn’t look up as I rounded the corner toward the elevator. I just caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of my eye, and then I was jerked backwards.
A hand came down over my mouth, stopping me as I pulled in breath to scream. The smell of him—sharp and dangerous—filled my nose and mouth and made my head spin.
Nevala.
I started to twist away, but he shoved me into an empty hospital room and kicked the door shut behind us. He kept one hand over my mouth and wrapped the other around my arms, pulling me up against him so that my back touched his chest. My shoulders tightened and I felt the shift trying to take over again.
“Be still,” he hissed into my ear. His breath fluttered against my neck and my heart pounded in response. “You can’t be seen here.”
What does that mean?
I stopped struggling and nodded warily.
He lifted his arms away and the air rushed in, cool where his hands had been hot against me.
I turned to face him, backing up until my knees hit the hospital bed behind me. I didn’t say anything; I still hadn’t decided whether or not to run screaming. But he was between me and the door. I would have to get past him first.
Nevala and I stared at one another, the sound of our breathing harsh.
The doctor finally broke the silence. “You’re not possible,” he said, running one hand through his hair as he shook his head.
I ignored the implications of the statement. “Counselors? Yes, we are.”
He gave me a sharp look. “That’s not what I meant.” He took a step forward. I leaned farther back, but I was trapped—I would either have to climb up on the bed or push my way past him. I wasn’t sure which would be better.
Then it was too late—he grabbed my upper arms and stared into my eyes. His hands burned hot against my skin. His eyes, too, glittered feverishly, golden highlights churning through the brown.
The intensity of his stare captured me. I drew in another breath, full of the scent of him, and my head swam. The color leached out of the room. This time, though, I couldn’t look away from him, couldn’t hide the way my eyes changed, the pupils narrowing and lengthening. The room shifted into shades of gray, and his golden eyes turned silvery as they held my own.
He inhaled sharply as he saw the transformation and his hands tightened convulsively.
“How are you here?” he whispered, shaking his head.
He pulled me closer to him, staring into my eyes. My pulse pounded in my temples. The muscles of my abdomen started to roil; I was about to shift, and I couldn’t control it.
And I might just be okay with that
, some quiet, still part of my mind whispered from far away,
because this man terrifies me
.
I might have a better chance against him in my serpent form.
But something—some instinct deeper than thought—urged me to maintain my humanity.
I still couldn’t break eye contact; his gaze was hypnotic.
He leaned in and kissed me.
And as a general rule, I avoid making out with men who drag me into dark rooms against my will.
But all those rules went out the window when this man kissed me.
His lips burned against mine, searing something deep inside, heating me to my core.
The almost peppery scent that had frozen me earlier now flooded my senses. His hands dropped from my shoulders and ran down my arms, wrapping around my waist and pulling me closer to him.
Muscles that moments ago had been writhing in an attempt to shapeshift now twisted to move closer to him.
He leaned me backwards and the edge of the bed pushed against the back of my knees. He moaned against my mouth and my knees started to go weak. He ran one hand down past the side of my waist and pulled one leg up, wrapping it around him. I could feel him against me, heat pouring through his body and into mine.
We leaned further over the bed.
Through the heat sliding into me from him, I heard the faint sound of a voice from the hospital PA system. The sound penetrated, shocking me back into myself.
I pushed back from him and rotated out of his arms, ducking under them to walk backwards toward the door. He spun to face me, and we stared at each other, still breathing heavily.
“What the hell was that?” I brushed my sleeves down over my arms and straightened my shirt.
When had it started to drift up over my waist?
Nevala watched my hands, his eyes still swirling with golden intensity.
I took a step back. “Answer me, or I’m going to report you to the hospital for assault.”
“You won’t do that.” He sounded confident.
“You don’t want anyone here knowing about you.”
My heart stuttered and my arms and legs went numb. “What do you mean?”
He smiled wider, and this time I saw that his canine teeth were a little elongated and far too sharp. “You don’t want anyone to know you’re a shapeshifter.”
It was the first time anyone other than my parents had said the word. I took a deep breath to call his bluff, but his next words left me frozen in place.
“Because if anyone here knew what you were,” he said, “they’d want me to do my duty. And technically, my job is to kill you.”
And that was it: the moment I lost my already-tenuous grasp on my identity as a human as my animal instincts took over. The world grayed out, tiny flecks of light sparking inside what I’d always considered a cloud of magic surrounding me.
Shifting doesn’t hurt, precisely, but it’s not a comfortable experience, either—bones and muscles pop and grind as they compress and stretch, reforming themselves into a new shape. And there’s always moment of heart-stopping panic between the realization that I’ve lost my limbs and the acceptance of my serpentine body.
The whole process takes less than a minute, but it’s a minute of vulnerability, and I always come out of it prepared to strike.
I don’t know if that part’s instinct, or maybe some sort of early training.
I remember waking up in Dad’s herpetology lab that first morning. Everything before that is a blank. Dad and I have speculated that I underwent some kind of trauma. After all, something had happened to leave me stranded out in the West Texas desert where he found me, alone, all those years ago.
In any case, this shift was no exception. As the mist cleared from my eyes, I found myself reared back, hood fully extended, prepared to strike.
But Dr. Nevala sat perfectly still, simply watching me with those eyes of his—though through my shifted eyes, they looked silver rather than golden.
Weaving back and forth, prepared to move quickly if necessary, I held his gaze.
A slow, breathy sigh half-whistled from his lips. “Wow,” he said, speaking quietly. “Your animal form is as beautiful as your human one.”
I hissed, in part to illustrate my disdain for his appraisal, but also to taste the air surrounding us.
He wasn’t lying—I could scent his admiration, sparkling across my vomeronasal organ. The flavor of his tone was much like my father’s when he worked with his own snakes.
This was not a man who feared snakes.
I looped the lower part of my body out of my clothing, now puddled on the floor beneath me. Then I slid sideways to the cool tile floor, never taking my gaze off the human man in front of me.
In this form, the heat that poured from his burned against my skin even more intensely, and I found myself wanting to coil around him, soak up some of that warmth for myself.
You can’t snuggle up to a man who just threatened to kill you, Lindi.
But I could appreciate how hot he ran.
“Ms. Parker,” the doctor said. “I don’t think you can make your way out of the hospital alone—not without being seen.”
He was right. I hadn’t really thought this through. Even if I did make it out of the hospital without being seen, I would end up at my car. I kept an extra key hidden in a wheel-well for just this kind of emergency, along with a set of clothes in the trunk, so I would be able to shift into my human form and drive away—but only after I spent several long, naked minutes illuminated by the bright streetlight I’d parked under for safety’s sake.
Note to self: park in dark corners from now on.
Nevala had been watching me as I processed all of these ideas. I don’t know how he knew when I reached the logical conclusion, but he said, “I’m going to step out of the room. I’ll stand outside and keep anyone else from coming in until you tell me otherwise. Okay?”
I dipped my head once to let him know his plan worked for me, but I still watched the doctor carefully as he skirted around me, hugging the walls. I didn’t taste any fear in the air, though, so keeping his distance might have been for my benefit.
At the door, he stopped and looked back. “But we are going to have to talk, Ms. Parker. I don’t think you have any idea how much trouble you could be in.”
I didn’t acknowledge that statement, torn between a desperate desire to learn something—anything—about my origins, and an equally strong determination to stay away from someone who suggested that his community expected him to murder me.
When the door swung shut behind him, I began the process of moving back into my human shape. The shift took longer this time. Repeated shifting over short periods of time uses up much more energy than it does if I give myself time to recover.
Panicked shifting is also an energy-suck.
In any case, I struggled back into my clothes and pulled my hair into a loose knot at the nape of my neck.
I knocked lightly on the door from the inside and said, “Dr. Nevala?” in the most neutral tone I could as I pushed it open.
But Nevala was gone. In his place stood a stone-faced security guard, who nodded at me. “Ma’am. The doctor said I was to see you safely to your vehicle.” Everything about his body language—from the ‘parade rest’ stance with his hands loosely clasped in front of him and his back ramrod straight, to the overly grim look on his face—suggested that he was determined to take this job seriously. I wondered briefly if Nevala had put a bug up his ass about keeping me safe, or if this was the guy’s normal demeanor.
In any case, I didn’t try to convince him that I could walk alone. Nevala’s conversation had rattled me, and I found myself glancing around to make sure I wasn’t ambushed by those other shifters—the ones who would expect Nevala to ‘do his duty’ and kill me.
Assuming he knows what he’s talking about.
Assuming he isn’t flat-out insane.
At the car, I turned to dismiss the guard, only to find him holding out a folded piece of paper. “The doctor said to give this to you before you left,” he intoned. I stared at it as if it were the snake, rather than me—and not the happy, loving, shape-shifting kind of snake, but a creepy, evil, poisonous, hanging-out-in-Eden kind.
But whatever the note contained, it wasn’t the guard’s fault, so I plucked it out of his hand and slid into my car. The guard was still watching me, so I dropped the note onto the passenger seat, as if I weren’t half-desperate to read what it said.
As I pulled out of the parking lot, I began scanning the streets for somewhere to pull over and read what Nevala had sent.
But first, I wanted to put a little distance between me and the hospital full of shapeshifters who might want me dead.
I was halfway home before I realized that I had lost my phone somewhere in that hospital room.