Under Her Skin by Margo Bond Collins

Author:Margo Bond Collins [Bond Collins, Margo]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bathory Gate Press
Published: 2016-06-14T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

I tried to ask questions, but Kade kept insisting that the Council was the next step.

We stopped by the hospital first, both to check on Kirstie and to make sure the first dose of antivenin hadn’t had any adverse effects. Her parents still watched me warily, but this time I kept my distance.

Kade called a nurse over to him and they conferred briefly. “Continue to watch for any signs of a reaction, and contact me if necessary,” he said to the dark-haired woman in scrubs. With a nod, she rolled a computer on a stand over to her and began entering the appropriate notes.

“How do you get away with it?” I asked as we left the hospital.

“Get away with what?”

“Having a hospital especially for shifters?” I pitched my voice low, trying to keep from being overheard.

He laughed. “It’s not only for shifters. There aren’t enough of us to warrant a whole hospital—and even if there were, we rarely get sick enough to need hospitalization.”

“That makes it even stranger. How do you get away with a hospital that caters to shifters but still has human patients? That nurse was making notes in Kirstie Bryant’s file. What if another doctor looked them up? Do all the doctors and nurses know about the shifters? How does this all work?”

Pulling his key-fob out of his pocket, he unlocked the truck. “I know you have a lot of questions. And I am more than willing to answer them. Just not all at once. And not until after you meet with the Council.”

* * *

When Kade said “the Council,” I could hear the capitalization in his voice, a respect echoing through his tone that caused me to expect a giant room with vaulted ceilings decorated in gold-leaf and a dais up at the front. In my mind, the Council members were dressed in long black robes—maybe even with white wigs. Like judges from some other country.

I was right about the vaulted ceiling. But it was over someone’s lovely living room in a nice, middle-class neighborhood. A short, pudgy woman with an upturned nose and gray streaks through her dark hair opened the door. She glanced at me curiously when Kade introduced me simply by name, her blue eyes glinting behind round-rimmed glasses, but she led us in without comment and invited us to take a seat on the couch. I found myself scooting closer to Kade as other people filed in.

With each new arrival, the level of the energy swirling through the room spiked higher and the muscles in my back grew tighter as I fought off the urge to shift.

“You’ll be fine,” Kade murmured, dropping his hand down to rest on my own. I hadn’t realized that I had grabbed the edge of the sofa cushion. I spread my fingers wide and smoothed down the brocade fabric.

I leaned in close to place my mouth almost directly to his ear, pointing my mouth down and toward the back of the couch in an effort to

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