Chapter Two: What's that? Where? Over there? It's...

I have a love/hate relationship with waking up. One, I loved dreaming because my dreams were awesome and fun; and two, I just plain liked sleeping. But I seriously hated waking up, or more specifically waking up now, because I never knew what to expect. Would I be in a morgue? Tied to a chair? Being sexed by my hubby? It was anyone’s guess.

 

This morning was no different.

 

I woke up slowly and angrily. Some dumbass thought it was okay to make a bunch of obnoxious racket early in the morning. Guess what? It wasn’t.

 

I threw off the sheet, slammed open the door and glared at the supernatural beings moving around. There was a bellhop in the middle of the room with all our luggage loaded onto a cart. I glared at him along with everyone else.

 

“The f**k's going on here?”

 

“We’re leaving,” Bane said easily, and turned back to the bellhop.

 

I growled, actually growled like a freaking, well, wolf. “And you thought it was alright to do it at--” I searched around wildly for a clock, and some of my anger fled, replaced with guilt and embarrassment when I saw the time. “--one o’clock in the afternoon?”

 

Well, actually normal checkout times were much earlier, so I guess Bane did sort of have the right of way with this one. He escorted the bellhop out and told Casper to go with the guy. Then he turned back to me and gave me one of those looks. Bane and his stupid looks. I could write a freaking book with all of them. This one said: not going to say you're wrong and apologize?

 

I crossed my arms, cocked my hip, and stared him down. I returned the look with one of my own: nope.

 

“Go get dressed, habibi.”

 

I tossed my head. “I am not a dog, Bane.”

 

He smiled. “You sure about that?”

 

I sputtered, closed my mouth, opened my mouth again, and closed it. I looked around the room at Luther and Samantha for help, but the pair just regarded us like we were circus freaks. Was no one going to help me? Then again, we were kind of having a couples spat, but still! Where my sistas at?

 

I turned on my heel and slammed the door closed. I couldn’t tell Bane he was wrong, but I would not give him the satisfaction of hearing my angry outburst. I was already broadcasting “screw you” as loud as I could through my thoughts.

 

So I wasn’t good at comebacks; yeah, well, I had other talents: namely cursing like a sailor, eating like a pig, and being the surprising paranormal on the block. I smiled and flipped my hair. I still had it.

 

I started towards the bathroom, not because Bane had commanded me, but because I wanted to get ready. But something dark on my side of the bed caught my eye.

 

“Please tell me I didn't bleed all over the sheets,” I groaned, making my way over there. I don’t know why I thought dying would’ve stopped my reproductive organs, since it hadn’t stopped my heart. Wishful thinking, maybe? The MSing might explain why I was waking up so late and biting everyone's head off. Hey, I knew when it was hormones and when it wasn’t, and I was willing to cop to being a raging, hormonal b***h if it was the former.

 

I blinked down at the dark smudges on my bed and noticed it was my fur/fuzz. I looked down at my body. Nope, still fur. Had I shed during the night? Ew, that’s gross. I poked at the black hair and nearly gagged when I saw flakes of skin mixed in. Yeah, they were my flakes of skin, but still.

 

Than I smiled wide. Or had I changed? Maybe after Samantha and I got back at whatever time we got back at, and I’d changed and come to bed, I’d also shifted.

 

“Peaches!” Bane interrupted my thought process with a knock on the door. I pulled a sheet over the hairy mess just in case he decided to come in. “We are on a schedule. Hurry up.”

 

I stuck my tongue out at the door before I turned back to the bed. There wasn’t much to do now. I mean this pretty much proved it. I was shedding, like a dog, and that only meant one thing.

I sank to my knees, my arms on the bed, eyes staring at the black stuff growing on my body. “Aw freaking a, I’m a werewolf.”