Fangs by Mila Demastus

Author:Mila Demastus
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: horror, shifters, romance, new adult, paranormal
Publisher: Strawberry Pop
Published: 2021-03-26T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOUR

Rhys might’ve been on his way to heaven but I was in hell. Broke out in a blistering fever, couldn’t shake it no matter how I wrapped up or what kind of medicine I took. I ran ice cold water in the claw footed tub, sank into it up to my neck and shivered. Still no relief.

My mind went through ten kinds of misery – thinking about Rhys with Ruby Stevens. The why of it had me stumped. But she was a music producer and he played a mean guitar. Maybe she’d offered him a demo, too. I recalled the way she had looked at me, had almost come onto me. Maybe she was a predator, using young talent for her sexual quirks. Kicks are kicks but not if somebody gets deliberately hurt in the process.

I felt so wrung out – couldn’t eat, or sleep. I asked Merrie Abercrombie to babysit Miss Crawford. She eagerly obliged. Once alone, I curled up on my bed and left the TV on a classic movie channel, watching film noir until sundown. That’s when it hit me - hard!

The moon rose like a big white eye above the tattered purple and gold sunset. As soon as it came into my sights I felt a strange, all-over tingling. Once, when my dad was so sick with the cancer and we were stressed to the max with worry and grief – I broke out in hives, huge red welts covering me, and the itching, the unbearable, maniacal urge to scratch. This feeling was similar to that, only a zillion times worse. I took some allergy medicine, hoped it would calm me down but it didn’t. Then – the hair started rising up from every pore on my body! Soft brown fur was inching over me like a plague; my limbs were growing, tearing my clothes to rags. I screamed as the fur smothered me, until all I could see in the mirror were my eyes and my mouth. But they weren’t my blue eyes – they were fierce and glaring, almost white! And it wasn’t my mouth! It was that of a beast’s, with long, gnarled teeth protruding like ivory knives. They hurt, oh my God how they hurt! I cried, I cussed, I growled! What the fuck was wrong with me? Was I hallucinating? I couldn’t be! Everything around me was real, the TV blaring, the lights of my house glowing with that old, familiar mood, the inviting aromas of dinner wafting through the neighborhood as the people all around me began their nightly rituals. I could hear Mr. Andrews tinkering with his lawn mower in his shabby garage, and Belle Jenkins taking her Pekinese for their evening walk. I glanced out the bedroom window, saw Merrie Abercrombie doing her Zumba dancing in her parlor, with Miss Crawford perched at the bay window, spying on me.

It was real, but what was happening to me couldn’t be! A person can’t suddenly turn into some raging,

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