Chapter 9 - Veronica

I try to go after Percy, but Maisie reaches out, catching my arm and pulling me back.

"Just give him some room," she murmurs. "We can go and find him in a second. Besides, I need to do this."

She picked up the syringe from the tray, and I glanced at it curiously. Do I trust her enough to let her stick me with this mysterious substance that she apparently just made herself?

"I took some of Percy's DNA and information from the computer," she says, a little self-satisfied smirk on her face. "Used some of the scent erasure process, reversing some parts to create this ," she flicks the needle before plunging it into my arm, "which should, theoretically, change your scent to that of a shifter and also show Percy's scent on you."

"Great," I mutter, biting my lip as she pushes it into my body. I don't feel a thing, but twenty minutes later, Maisie insists that I smell like the real thing. She looks really pleased with herself.

"Let me know if you have any symptoms," she says, snapping off her gloves and dropping them in the trash. "I'll probably need to give you that shot once a week to keep the scent right, but I'll keep an eye on it and adjust the potency if I can."

"Sounds good," I say, giving her a thumbs-up in the absence of knowing what to say to a statement like that. According to her, I now "smell" like a werewolf, whatever that means. When I turn to leave the room, thinking it might be a good idea to go after Percy, she pulls me back.

"Listen," she says, lowering her voice, "it's going to take a bit of gaslighting to get the others to believe this. You're going to have to lie about shifting for the first time here, and Percy and I will back it up. Say you need to call your parents and see why they never told you, that it's a really big deal. Tell them it felt like stepping into the right skin for the first time."

"That's really what it's like?"

Maisie flushes from head to toe, glancing down her full-figured body to her shoes.

"Well," she says, clearing her throat, "that's what it's like for me. I guess I can't speak for everyone."

"That sounds nice," I say, realizing I repeat what Percy said more. It makes me want to find him even more, and my heart skips when I think about the fact that he could be experiencing symptoms again already. I take a few blood-letting kits from Maisie, then hurry out of the clinic, carrying the tote bag.

I'm just turning the corner to leave the compound when I smack into someone, and we both stumble backward.

"Oh, Gods," they say, "I'm so sorry."

When I look up and see Linnea, she has her hand on her forehead, where we cracked our heads together. When her eyes land on me, she sniffs and pulls her head back, a look of incredulity falling over her face.

"What the—" she says, coming closer and taking a deep breath, her mouth falling open. "Veronica, what—how—"

When her eyes meet mine again, I realize I'm going to have to pull this off for Maisie and Percy's sake. I think back to what Maisie said in the clinic and try to sound convincing.

"Oh," I say, nodding and shrugging like what can you do? "Yeah, I—uh, I had my first shift just now. I guess, I guess that I'm a shifter. I am a shifter. I just—the vampire bite triggered it, I guess. It was latent."

Linnea continues staring at me, shaking her head slightly, sniffing again.

"…it felt like stepping into the right skin for the first time," I say, quietly, and Linnea's eyes widen before brimming with tears.

"Oh, Gods," she says, reaching forward and pulling me close to her. "Welcome to the pack, Veronica. We are so, so happy to have you. I never would have guessed—I didn't even know that was possible, for someone to smell like a human. Even my kids smell like shifters," she laughs quickly, "but what do I know? What did Maisie say about it? Oh—just wait until Rosa hears about this one! She is going to be tickled. "

"Yeah," I say, the word breaking off into an awkward laugh at the end. "Well, I was just looking for…Percy, actually. Have you seen him?"

Linnea has a knowing look on her face.

"That makes sense," she says, giving me a wry smile. "I just saw him leave here—his apartment is on the square, right above the bakery. Knock on the green door. That's my best bet for where to find him."

I thank her and hurry away before she can take too deep of a whiff and realize I'm all smoke and mirrors.

***

The door to Percy's apartment is painted in the same color as the bakery right beside it, which is closed. The sign out front indicates that it will open up at an ungodly time the next morning and close in the early evening.

I take a deep breath and knock on his door, desperately hoping he answers. A full minute goes by, and I take a step back, catching the shifting of a curtain in the window. Surprisingly, a little bit of anger pushes through me, and I step forward again, pounding on the door as hard as possible.

"Percy Veroux!" I shout. "You'd better let me inside right now !"

When the door opens a moment later, I almost get him in the nose with my fist, which is still mid-swing from the knocking. As soon as I see him, I let my eyes wander over him, taking in the rosy cheeks, bright eyes, and the fact that he's standing upright and breathing just fine.

"Veronica," he says, as though I'm the last person he expected to see.

"Percy," I say, clearing my throat. "Can I come in? I think we need to talk."

"Right," he says, blinking and rubbing his hand over the back of his neck, turning and making like he's going to walk inside.

"Excuse me?" I laugh, from my place on the sidewalk. He turns back to me, bewildered. "Did your mother not teach you any manners?"

"Oh," he laughs, rolling his eyes. "Veronica, would you please do me the favor of coming inside?"

"I would," I say, stepping over the threshold and closing the door behind me. I climb up after him, eyes strictly on the stairs beneath my feet so I'm not tempted to look at his ass. Curiosity burns inside me, and I desperately want to know if it's as good as I remember.

"Oh honey ," I can remember Ms. Pearl saying, after meeting him for the first time. "That boy does squats ."

"Some people also say I have a great personality," Percy had called from the porch, apparently not out of earshot yet.

"Oh my god," I'd said, covering my face with my hands, mortification searing over my face.

"Don't hide, sweetheart," Ms. Pearl had said, leaning around me so she could watch him leave through the glass. "Hold your head up. You've got quite the catch with that one. And I don't just mean the butt."

"Thank you, Ms. Pearl!" Percy had called from the road, waving to us as he climbed in his car.

"How in the world did he hear that?" she'd said, chuckling to herself as she poured herself another cup of tea.

Now, we walk into Percy's apartment, which is bare-bones. In the living room, there's a couch and bookshelf, and when I walk down the hall, clearly snooping, there's a queen bed in the center of the room. A small dining table is pushed against the wall in the kitchen. No other furniture, no other decorations.

"I love what you've done with the place," I say, and to my surprise, Percy lets out a loud laugh. "Wow, if you liked that, I can keep them coming all night," I say, smiling as I take a seat on the couch. He pulls over a chair from the dining table and sits across from me, lacing his hands together and letting them hang between his legs.

Now that we're sitting here, looking at each other, I feel this undeniable pull to crawl into his lap, straddle his legs, tip his head back, and—

I catch myself, shocked at how easily I just started fantasizing about him like that. After blinking and clearing my throat, I set my tote bag down on the ground and crossed my legs in an effort to calm myself down.

Percy's nostrils flare, his eyes dipping to my legs for a moment as I move, and I swallow.

This might be harder than I thought. I take another deep breath.

"Is what—is what you said earlier true?"

"You might have to be a little more specific," he says, laughing a bit.

"About, well, about not remembering anything from that time?"

"This is kind of a dark story," he murmurs, putting his hands on his neck and leaning back to stretch in the chair. "Are you sure you want to hear it?"

" Yes ," I say, something in my chest skipping at the thought of him sharing this with me. When we were dating, he gave off the vibes of being an open book, but would frequently change the topic when I tried to ask about too much, like what he did for work and when his family was going to visit.

"Okay," he sighs, running his hand over the golden stubble on his face. Even after everything, he's still as handsome as ever. Now, instead of the golden retriever look, he looks a little more like a weathered sailor, or a woodsman. Those images aren't doing much for the warmth building between my legs, so I try to refocus on him as he talks.

"A few years ago, I was part of a special ops team. It operated under a specific branch of the government responsible for maintaining paranormal peace. Specifically, our team dealt with rogue alphas and packs that didn't respect the humans living near them. Then, we got the call to go to Rosecreek.

"When we got there, we learned that the rogue alpha there was working on a serum that would prevent a shifter from taking their animal form—a fate worse than death. Many of the subjects tested with the serum died from the stress. Some of them made it through but became severely depressed and had chronic pain daily.

"Right after learning that our leader at the agency had betrayed us, we were ambushed by a group of Varun's men. During that fight, I was—"

He stops talking, and I lean forward without thinking, putting a hand on his knee. Both knees are bouncing up and down, and he's wringing his hands together so hard I'm worried they might pop off.

"Hey," I say, tugging on him, and he pulls his chair a little closer to me. I take his hand and turn it over in mine, gesturing for him to go on. A voice in my head screams, What are you doing ? It reminds me that this is the man who kidnapped me. I tell it that's not true—this is only the body that kidnapped me. The man there now would never do that.

And I realize, at once, that I believe it. Percy may have ghosted me all those years ago, but I don't think him capable of kidnapping and trapping people. For the first time since he took me from that running trail, I believe that it wasn't truly him.

"During the fight," he continues, his voice rough. "I was poisoned. With the serum. I'd heard stories about what happened to people who had it in their bloodstream, and I could already feel it starting to block my shift. It was terrifying. Like suffocating.

"I asked Aris for his gun, and I took it out into the woods, far enough away that I hoped the others wouldn't hear it, but when I raised it to my head, and said a prayer to the Gods, I suddenly felt faint. I passed out, and heard the gun going off when I hit the ground.

"The team had so much going on—I don't know how long I was like that, face-down in the forest, but eventually I came to. I got to my feet, already feeling stifled and bottled up without my ability to shift. Imagine if you had your arms and legs tied tightly together, and all you wanted to do was move."

"Like when you're wearing a tight shoe," I ask, "and you can't wiggle your toes?"

"Yeah," Percy says, laughing a bit, his other hand coming to mine, his fingers tracing over mine lightly. He's telling me a tragic story, and I meant for his touch to be more comforting than sensual, but I can't help it—the way he's touching me sends zips of electricity up my arms. "Exactly like that, but about a million times worse."

We sit there quietly for a moment, as he traces up and down my hands. Again, that voice in the back of my mind screams at me. Even if he wasn't in his right mind when he kidnapped me, he still ghosted me all those years ago.

I pull my hand back, clearing my throat.

"Anyway," Percy says, looking physically pained. "I don't remember much after that, until I woke up in the clinic, in a holding cell. They say I went out into the town and fought some shifters who had come from California, but I don't have any memory of that. I just remember a few snapshots."

"Like what?" I ask, my voice quiet.

"There was one moment," he says, "where I became lucid, and I started toward a cliff's edge, thinking that if I just threw myself off, I might be done with it."

"Jesus," I say, shaking my head and putting a hand to my mouth. Tears well in my eyes at the thought of it—all of it. Him being on his own for so long. The pain that he's been through.

But he hadn't been through any of this when he decided to ghost me the first time. So, he might not be an evil kidnapper, but he is definitely not worth my romantic interest.

I desperately try to remind my body of this, hating how my stomach just winds tighter and tighter the longer I'm sitting next to him. I can't stop thinking about the fact that I have never felt him inside of me, and based on what Maisie said, I might never get the chance.

"What are you thinking?" Percy asks, and I choke on my own spit, sending myself into a coughing fit.

"What?" I rasp, accepting a glass of water when he brings it over to me. "Why—"

"Well," he says, spreading his hands out, palms up, "you came over here, asking questions. I just—I was wondering what you were thinking. What inspired that."

"Oh," I say, coughing a bit more, remembering why I came over in the first place. I take a deep breath. "What Maisie said is true. You might need another blood transfusion. And I don't want to sleep in the clinic."

"It's better furnished than my apartment."

That makes me laugh, and I turn my head away from him before my eyes can track to his Adam's apple, the line of his jaw, his soft, twinkling brown eyes.

"Here's what we're going to do," I say, clearing my throat. "I'll get some things from the shelter, then crash on your couch until—"

"No way," Percy says, shaking his head. At first, I think he will say that I can't stay here, which makes my chest hurt a bit, then he says, "You take the bed."

"Percy," I say, swallowing hard and avoiding his eyes. It's hard to look at him without the memory of him situating my hips over face popping to mind. Without meaning to, I take in the stubble on his cheeks and wonder how it would feel, which makes my face flare. "You are literally the one who has just been mortally wounded."

"We are even in the vampire bite column," he points out.

"Mine was a vampire bite. Yours was a vampire chomp."

"I didn't know there were categories for that," Percy says, the corner of his mouth quirking up, "and I definitely didn't know you were an expert on those."

"Despite what you might think, the vampire nibble is actually the deadliest of all."

"Just the phrase is enough to make me sick," he laughs, and I realize I'm standing in his apartment with him, laughing and joking like we used to. I sober up, breathing out and looking to the ground when Percy says, "I'm honestly surprised you're handling this as well as you are."

"Well," I say, toeing the tote bag on the ground with the blood kits. "I might have a breakdown later. I'm not sure."

"Did you check your calendar? Pretty sure tonight isn't free—it's moving night."

"I have a single backpack," I say, thinking of that backpack at the shelter, and hoping I don't run into anyone else on my way to get it.

"Still a light traveler," he says, nodding.

"Right," I say, rubbing my hands up and down my arms, nodding again. "Well, I'll be back."

"Thanks for the warning," he jokes, half-heartedly as I rush down the hall and to the front door, entirely sure this entire thing is a massive mistake.