7. Katrina

CHAPTER 7

KATRINA

I t was a little past seven, and the bar was full of people. The Friday night crowd had really shown up in droves, so I was finally getting a sense of what it was going to be like to bartend when things were at their peak. I was doing the best I could, but I’d be lying if I said my nerves weren’t starting to build. The last time I’d tended bar, it had been at a small drink station on a beach in Guatemala. At most, there were only ever a few dozen people ordering, and they all took their turns instead of shouting at me from every end of the bar.

It was so loud inside Smart Choice that night that I couldn’t even hear myself think—nonetheless hear what drinks people were ordering. I had to ask patrons to repeat themselves over and over again, and I still ended up giving them the wrong thing half the time. This, combined with my empty stomach and aching feet, made for a pretty crappy second-shift performance. When it came time for my break, I decided not to take it. I still felt like I needed to prove myself to Al so that he wouldn’t fire me and find someone better, so I thought it was best if I just worked through the night without complaint.

At a quarter to eight, he came out of his office to help me manage the chaos and frowned when he saw the look on my face. “Is everything alright?” he said.

“All good,” I yelled over the crowd. “Just a little frazzled.”

He checked his watch. “Hey, it’s almost eight! Did you take your break yet?”

“No, but?—”

“Katrina, you have to take your break!”

“Maybe later.”

“Not later! Now!” he insisted. “I should’ve been paying better attention to the time. Go upstairs and get something to eat, would you? I can hold down the fort for a while.”

“No, it’s really okay! I don’t need a break.”

He put a hand on my shoulder. “I don’t care what you need. It’s the law. Now go before I drag you upstairs myself.”

I laughed and took solace in the look of conviction in his eyes. He really wanted me to get out of there for a bit, and I was truly in no position to say no. My stomach was growling so loud it was audible even over the crowd, and if I didn’t sit down soon, I was at risk of fainting.

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll go. But don’t get too comfortable without me. I’ll be back soon.”

The only food in the apartment was a bag of frozen French fries that had been sitting in the freezer for over a year, based on the expiration date. I had no idea where they came from or whether or not they would be dangerous to eat, but at the time, I didn’t care. What had started off as normal, end-of-a-long-day hunger had quickly grown into something much more intense. I felt as if I was going to go crazy if I didn’t eat something right then.

I turned the oven on but was impatient and threw the fries in long before it was done preheating. After about fifteen minutes, I took them out even though they were clearly not done and started chowing down. The fries were limp and cold in the middle, and yet they were also the most delicious thing I’d ever tasted. I ate the entire bag’s worth in less than five minutes, not even taking a second to think about how that might upset my stomach.

“Arg,” I groaned as I came to the end of my dinner. I was still so hungry. I looked through the cupboards again, but they were still as empty as they were when I first checked.

My skin was starting to itch, and I wondered if I had enough time to shower. I figured I was getting some sort of rash thanks to sweating so much throughout the first half of my shift, so I quickly undressed and turned the water on.

I’ll feel better after I rinse off. Give my body time to realize that I gave it food, and now it needs to calm down.

In the bathroom, I stared at myself in the mirror and took a few deep breaths. A wave of nausea washed over me, but when I bent down over the toilet, nothing came up. Tears formed in my eyes, and they began to sting. I went to see if there was something in one of them, but now the mirror was fogged up from the shower steam. There was a tiny window in the bathroom that I’d tried to open the night before, but it seemed as if it was painted shut. I tried again, putting more effort in this time, and managed to rip it free. The window flew open with a loud clattering sound, and a rush of cool air hit my face.

I sucked in a lungful, and for a single moment, I felt better.

Then I stared up at the night sky and saw the moon.

It was large, and looming, and beautiful.

And full.

My eyes widened, and the nausea suddenly intensified as I stood there, dumbstruck, staring up at the floating white orb. When I tried to breathe in again, my lungs constricted, and I fell back inside the bathroom with a gasp. My hands were shaking. I went to turn the water off but screamed when I saw the hair on my knuckles growing right before my eyes. My nails, too—they were growing. Sharpening. I was about to let out another scream when, all of a sudden, my spine cracked, and I felt a sensation that could only be described as vertebrae scraping against vertebrae. It was horrific and so painful that I thought I was going to die. I grabbed hold of the sink to brace myself and watched in horror as the fog dissipated on the mirror, and my eyes flashed a golden yellow.

The face staring back at me wasn’t mine.

It wasn’t even human.

I opened my mouth slowly to reveal a row of razor-sharp teeth, and that was the last thing I remembered before I blacked out.

“Katrina, are you in there?”

I woke up shivering and naked. It was dark in the apartment, and I was curled up on the floor next to my bed. My skin was damp from sweat, but my bottom lip was trembling from the cold. Every window was open as wide as it would go, and when I smacked my lips together, they felt dry and caked in a foreign substance.

“Katrina, if you don’t open the door right now, I’m going to have to call the police. Please, just tell me you’re okay! I’m freaking out!”

It was Al. He was outside the apartment door, and he sounded terrified. I pushed myself up to my forearm and winced when a sharp pain erupted from my lower back. “Just a second,” I managed to say. It took me more than that to gather my strength and get dressed. In the bathroom, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

I had blood caked all over my chin and lips.

“Hold on!” I said with a cracked voice. I bent over the sink and ran the water as hot as I could stand, then washed my face with rough and hurried movements. When all the blood was off, and the red water was washed down the drain, I took a deep breath and tried not to look as panicked as I felt. I walked across the room and opened the door.

“What is going on?”

Al’s eyes were heavy with exhaustion, and he was still in the clothes I’d last seen him in. I didn’t know if that meant not much time had passed or what, but I decided to play dumb for as long as I could.

Actually, no. I wasn’t playing dumb. I truly was dumb. I had no idea what the hell was going on, and I was utterly terrified but trying my best not to show it.

“I—I don’t—What time is it?” I asked.

Al balked at me. “It’s almost five in the morning! I’ve been looking for you all night.” He threw his hands up in the air. “Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?”

“I left?”

He stared at me with open confusion. “Are you sick or something? You look pale. Did something happen to you tonight?”

Your guess is as good as mine.

“I’m taking you to the hospital. Come on.”

“No, wait, I don’t need to go to the hospital. I’m fine, really. Can you just tell me your side of the story?” I asked. “I’m having a hard time piecing everything together.”

The frustration that Al had walked in with seemed to fade, and he let his hands drop to his sides. “You went on your break last night and never returned. I wasn’t able to come and check on you until after closing, and when I got up here, the place was empty. Your cell phone, wallet, and keys were all sitting on the dresser so I got scared and went running around town looking for you. When I got back to my apartment a few minutes ago, I thought I heard a noise up here and decided to come check again.” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “You really scared me for a second. I thought something awful happened. I thought you were like—dead.”

“I’m sorry, Al. I didn’t mean to scare you. And I feel terrible for leaving you all on your own to man the bar! Please don’t fire me.”

“I won’t if you tell me what’s going on!”

Shit. Didn’t see that coming…

I took a millisecond to come up with a convincing lie, and by some miracle, it worked. “Sleepwalking,” I said.

“Huh?”

“I’m a sleepwalker,” I explained. “Or rather, I used to be. I thought I had kicked the habit once I reached adulthood, but apparently not. It used to happen all the time when I was a kid. I would leave my room, sometimes even walk right out of the house, and my parents would wake up to find my bed empty. I saw a bunch of doctors for it, and we were eventually able to solve the issue, but now I guess the problem has returned.”

The story came so easily because it was something from my childhood. It just hadn’t exactly happened to me.

“So—you were sleepwalking this whole time?”

I nodded. “Yes. I must’ve laid down for a little nap while I was on my break, but then dropped into a really deep sleep and walked out of here. Again, I’m so sorry about this. I had no clue it was going to happen, otherwise I would’ve warned you that it was a possibility. I will be better about locking my doors and setting alarms so that it never happens again. Cross my heart.”

Al sighed. “I’m sorry if I overreacted. I didn’t even think people could sleepwalk for that long. Or that they could—like, open doors and go downstairs while they were asleep.”

“It’s pretty freaky, I know.”

“Well, I’m so glad I didn’t call the police.”

“Me too.” Like, really glad.

“Do you need to take a day off or go see a doctor or something?”

“No, it’s not a big deal. Now that I know it might happen again, I’ll keep better tabs on it. I have ways of managing it.” She went to the door and opened it for him. “Thanks for checking on me. It means a lot. I’ll try not to worry you so much in the future.”

He laughed as he stepped outside. “That would be great, thanks.”

“I’ll see you at work tonight, okay?”

He nodded. “Okay, but if you decide you would like the day off in the end, just say the word.”

“Don’t count on it.” I smiled. “I’ll be there.”

I shut the door behind him, and once I was alone in my own quiet space, the panic from earlier set in once more.

“Okay,” I said under my breath. “Now it’s time to go talk to that psychic guy and find out what the fuck really happened to me last night.”

The sun wasn’t even up yet, but I didn’t care. This guy knew that something was going to happen to me the night of the full moon, and I needed answers immediately. I banged on the door to his little shop until finally, after what felt like forever, he drew the piece of fabric back and looked out at me with narrowed eyes.

“I need to talk to you,” I said. “Right now.”

“I knew you were going to return,” he said as he opened the door. “I just didn’t know it would be at the crack of dawn.” He stepped aside to let me in and flipped the light switch on the wall. “Go ahead and sit down. I’ll put some coffee on.”

“No time for coffee. Tell me what you really saw in my palm yesterday and what it had to do with the full moon.”

He looked at me with utter annoyance. “I don’t understand why you’re asking me these questions when it’s clear from your state that you found out exactly what I saw.”

“What happened?” I asked again.

“You tell me. Did you turn into the beast or what?”

So it was real.

I flashed back to the moment I looked in the bathroom mirror. The sharp teeth and elongated snout. The yellow eyes that were still somehow vaguely mine.

I gulped. “How?” I croaked, my body beginning to shake with fear. “How is this even possible? What is happening to me?”

He smiled sympathetically. Or maybe it was pity. Either way, it didn’t make me feel much better. How could anyone be smiling at a time like this?

“Sit,” he said again, motioning to the table and chairs. “I’ll be back in a second, and then we’ll figure this all out together.”

As much as I hated him for stalling when I felt like my world was falling down around me, I knew I didn’t have much of a choice but to do as he said. He was the only person who could help me uncover the truth, and if I was being perfectly honest, a cup of hot coffee did sound pretty good right about then. I took a seat in the same chair as yesterday, and he returned a few minutes later with mugs full of what smelled like flavored pod coffee. He put one down in front of me and sat.

“The full moon turned you,” he said in such a casual tone that I almost started laughing. This all felt like one big joke.

“Into what?”

“I assume a wolf, but it could’ve been something else. There are a few different species of weres that have been written about, although I’m not sure that anyone has ever confirmed the existence of those besides wolves.”

I stared at him for a moment. “Are you suggesting that I’m a werewolf?”

“It’s not a suggestion, dear,” he said. “That’s just the reality. Your reality.”

“Absolutely not.”

“I’m afraid so. I saw it in your palm, and I can see it even more clearly in your eyes this morning. You turned last night, and you’re going to do so again when the next full moon rolls around. That’s why I’m hoping this time you’ll actually stick around long enough to look through some of the items I tried to send you home with yesterday. They’ll help you stay in control a little better. And keep others safe.”

“Hold on,” I said, putting a hand in the air. “Back up. This is insane. I can’t be a werewolf! This—this has never happened to me before!”

He smiled. “I know. That’s what makes it so fascinating. You’re not a shifter because otherwise, you would’ve been born with this ability. Instead, you’re cursed. Which is very different and much more dangerous.”

“Cursed? But who would curse me?”

“If you don’t know the answer to that question, then I’m going to have to look at your palm again.”

I didn’t give him my hand right away. I was frozen in place as a memory of a night just three weeks back resurfaced.

“Remember when I asked you if you had any mortal enemies?” the man said as I fell halfway back into my past, hearing his voice as a far-away echo. “This is why I wanted to know. Because someone has done this to you.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “It wasn’t someone. It was a group of people.”

He raised a brow. “Is that why you’re on the run? Are you hiding from these people?”

“Not them. They may have been the ones who did this to me, but they didn’t do it on purpose. Truthfully—this is all my fault.”