Shadow of the Moon #1 (Werewolf / Shifter Romance) by Mac Flynn

Author:Mac Flynn
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-06-22T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 4

I walked down the long white halls of the hospital and out into the darkening day. The setting sun in the west warned me I had a half hour to get home. Unfortunately, I didn't have my car. Randy hadn't managed to sneak that into the room.

"Damn it. . ." I muttered.

My salvation was a bus stop by the hospital, and in a short time I found myself seated in a grimy, uncomfortable long leather seat. The bus bumped along the roads towards my destination, or close to it. The hospital was in a swanky part of town, but my apartment building wasn't, which meant I had to make a connection ride to get home.

I leaned my forehead against the window and sighed. My mind and body were still a little tired after my long nap at the hospital. I reached up and touched my neck. The soreness had all but vanished. I felt the soft, low ridge of the scar.

The hairs on the back of my head stood on end. I looked to my left across the aisle and caught an old woman staring at me. She turned away and stared intently at her window. I pulled my shirt collar higher to hide the scar. I hated to wear turtlenecks, but my scar was pretty noticeable. It looked like I'd tried to commit suicide with a chainsaw.

The bus came to my stop and I hopped off. The sun was just about gone and stars twinkled in the eastern sky. I looked up at those shining gas orbs and frowned. A strange pulling sensation swept through me. I felt like I had to be somewhere else, like I was late on an important dinner date with a friend I hadn't seen in years.

I squashed the feeling. It didn't make any sense. Nobody waited for me at a restaurant, or even at home. I lived alone in my dinky, squalid little apartment.

The next bus arrived and I hopped on. A few stops later was mine. I stepped off and looked up. Before me loomed an ancient brick apartment building. Its stoop steps were worn down from years of countless feet. The glass windows were foggy from all the smog. Drab curtains concealed most of the rooms from prying eyes, mostly thieves who wanted to case the lower rooms. That's why I had a third-floor apartment. The only way was up a rickety old fire escape that had a landing at my bedroom window. A murder would have had to be suicidal to be that homicidal and risk those old, swaying metal stairs.

The hour was late when I walked through the faded lobby and up the stairs to the fourth floor. There wasn't an elevator. My weariness from earlier returned in full force as I shuffled down the hallway to my corner apartment. It paid to pay a little extra. One less neighbor to keep me awake.

I unlocked the door, slipped into my apartment and closed the door behind me. I flicked on the lights and tossed my purse on the table near the door.

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