Thin Skinned by Margo Bond Collins

Author:Margo Bond Collins [Bond Collins, Margo]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: urban fantasy heroine, werewolves, weresnake, werewolf, urban fantasy, paranormal romance, urban fantasy with female protagonists, Urban Fantasy Romance, Paranormal Shifters Romance
Publisher: Bathory Gate Press
Published: 2019-01-21T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

I had figured something out while we were chatting.

From the minute Phil had focused on my breasts, he had stopped thinking of me as a monster and started thinking of me as a person.

No one on the plane was able to do that. Baby Paige, maybe, but nobody else. Lori and Hale sat there silent, staring at me in shock and horror. Ron was wary of me. The three Spanish-speaking men were divided between terror and awe, though at least two of them were more afraid of Phil.

But Phil had been focused entirely on the top half of my body. So as I inched toward the casket, he was paying attention to where my hands were. And they were far away from anything that he might consider important.

But he was so, so wrong.

My favorite form, the one that I had slipped into for the bottom part of my body when I had taken the snake-goddesses form, was a constrictor. And that meant I could hold on to things with any part of my snake-shaped body.

It didn’t matter that I was far too far away from the casket to grab the package Phil had Ron put in there.

And he really shouldn’t have said that I had nowhere to go. It engaged that illogical, reptilian part of my mind. The part that made me put my plans into action even if they weren’t fully considered.

When I moved, I moved with the speed of the striking snake. No one was expecting it—not really.

I used my tail to reach inside the casket, wrap around the package, and pull it back to me, even as I slammed myself up against the bulkhead door.

Phil finally noticed the package moving toward me. As I took it into my hands, he said, “I don’t know where you think you can put that. Taking it out of the casket doesn’t matter as long as it’s back in there when we land.” I stared at him briefly, then let a long, slow smile spread across my face. As he watched, I focused on shifting just a little—and only my mouth.

Tearing open the top of the package, I pulled out a velvet bag. The brown-paper packaging dropped to the ground. I peered into the small bag.

Diamonds. Of course. What else would a true villain trade in?

I almost laughed. Instead, though, I unhinged my jaw, opening my mouth wider and wider, until I heard gasps from the other people on the plane—and I opened it even wider still, just because I could.

I tilted my head back, held the bag above my distended jaw, and dropped it in. Then I let my shifted internal organs muscle it along, down toward the lower half of my body.

That was going to be miserable and uncomfortable later. But it was absolutely worth it for the look on Phil’s face.

His shock dissolved in seconds. “Cut her open and get it out,” he demanded, flicking a wrist my direction as he pointed at me. Nobody moved, and he spoke again, this time in Spanish—I presume to repeat the order.

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