3. The Hairy Truth
3
The Hairy Truth
I woke up feeling like someone had stuffed my mouth with cotton wool and replaced my brain with an angry hamster on a wheel. The hamster was either rabid or high on something illegal.
A voice broke through the wheel’s maddening squeaks.
“Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit!”
I groaned and pulled the pillow over my head. It seemed Ellie was having another crisis. Probably discovered she’d drunk-ordered more crystals online again.
“This is bad,” the voice whined.
That didn’t sound like Ellie.
I cracked open an eye. Sunlight stabbed my retinas like a vindictive ex with a grudge. Pain exploded inside my head.
I moaned and brought a hand up to shield my face, only to freeze.
My eyes snapped open. Bile burned the back of my throat.
“What the—?!” I bolted upright and stared at my hands, my heart racing.
They were covered in hair. So were my arms. And judging by the way my pajama top was straining, other parts of me had undergone some disturbing changes overnight as well.
A sob from the corner of my bedroom made me look up. Ellie sat curled in my reading chair, mascara still streaked down her face from last night. She was clutching a baseball bat to her chest like it was the last life preserver on a sinking ship.
Bo lay on his belly beside her, his paws over his face and his large eyes peeking at me worriedly between his toes.
“Oh man,” the voice groaned. “Wait till the neighborhood woofs hear about this.”
I was about to ask Ellie how she’d mastered ventriloquism when I realized she wasn’t the one doing the talking. A lightheaded feeling swept over me as my gaze found Bo.
“Wait. Is that you?!”
Bo blinked. He sat up abruptly, jaw dropping open and head tilting to the side. “Whoa. You can hear me?!”
I swallowed hard, my pulse loud in my ears. “I’m still drunk,” I mumbled to myself. “That’s it. This is some kind of tequila-induced hallucination.” My voice sounded hysterical even to my own ears.
“I wish.” Bo fidgeted and peeked at me from under his lashes. “I gotta say, you’re taking this better than I expected.”
I stared at him some more before deciding screaming was a good idea right about now.
Ellie cried harder as my shriek filled the room.
Bo winced and dropped to the floor again, paws on his ears.
“Abby,” Ellie hiccuped between sobs. “I think—I think you need to look in a mirror!”
I ignored her and pointed at Bo. “ My dog is talking! ”
Ellie’s confused gaze swung from me to Bo. “What?”
“That’s not even the worst part,” Bo huffed. “Wait till you see yourself.”
“Why are you talking? Why is Ellie crying? And why can I smell Mrs. Chen’s coffee three floors down?! ”
I realized I was shouting and took a gulping breath.
Panicking was going to achieve nothing.
Ellie uncurled from the chair, took a hand mirror from my dressing table, and approached the bed, her knuckles white on the bat. She held out the mirror wordlessly.
I stared at it like it was a tax audit before taking it with trembling hands. I was pretty convinced I was not going to like what I was going to see. My eyes bulged when I caught my reflection.
It was ten times worse than I’d imagined.
“Argh!” The mirror slipped from my fingers and bounced on the bed.
“I tried to warn you about that guy.” There was a sullen undertone to Bo’s whine. “But nooo, you had to bring the werewolf inside our apartment.”
I stopped arghing and dragged my gaze from the furry freak show that was my reflection to the Husky. “The what?!”
A loud groan from the living room made Bo and Ellie jump.
Bo glanced in that direction and gulped. “Sounds like the werewolf is up.”
I listened with half an ear, still staring at my reflection in the mirror on the bed in horror. My cheeks sported an impressive coating of facial hair. My normally wavy brown locks had developed a definite wild quality. Even my neckline looked hairier.
That thought brought me up short.
I peeked inside my pajama top. This proved to be a bad idea.
“I have boob hair,” I mumbled hoarsely. I looked at Ellie. “ I have boob hair! ” I yelled, stabbing an accusing finger at my chest.
Ellie hiccuped and wiped her nose, her grip relaxing slightly on the bat. “Waxing those is going to hurt.”
“At least you don’t have a tail.” Bo’s attempt at helpfulness needed work.
Another groan came from the living room. It was followed by a man’s protest.
“Hey, could you keep it down? My head is killing me!”
Something snapped inside me. Maybe it was the facial hair. Maybe it was the talking dog. Maybe it was the fact that I could actually smell Mrs. Chen’s coffee three floors down (Colombian dark roast with a hint of vanilla).
I yanked the sheets off my legs, sucked in air at the sight of my hairy toes, arghed some more, and stormed out of the room. I ignored Ellie’s squeak of protest and Bo’s “Oh boy” as they trailed reluctantly behind me.
Our guest was sitting up on the sofa, his head in his hands. He looked normal except for a weird yellow tinge to his eyes and what appeared to be the mother of all hangovers.
He spotted me and paled. “Oh no.”
His expression of guilt confirmed my worst suspicions.
This asshole was the reason I’d woken up looking like Bigfoot’s sister.
“Start talking,” I snapped, advancing on him. “What did you do to me?!”
“I can explain.” He gulped and raised his hands defensively. “It was an accident. I was high on werewolf nip and?—”
I hit him again.
This time, he managed to stay conscious. “Ouch.” He winced and swiveled his jaw with a couple of toe-curling pops. “I probably deserved that.”
“Probably?!” I snarled. The word came out more growl than human speech. I blinked, momentarily shocked.
“You really pack a punch,” he mumbled, still rubbing his chin. He flinched at the sound of my knuckles cracking. “Look, I’m really sorry I bit you. I’m Hugh, by the way.” He brightened a little and offered his hand. “Hugh Hawthorne.”
I slapped it away. “I don’t care if you’re the Hugh with the claws from the movies!” I jabbed a furry finger at him. “Fix this, whatever the hell it?—!”
I froze as his words finally sank in. The dots connected inside my head like death knells. I looked jerkily at my hand.
“It was the bite?!” I said hoarsely.
“Yeah,” he said, contrite. “There’s not a lot I can do to fix it.” He swallowed at my glower. “But my older brother can probably help. Samuel is the alpha of our pack and our problem fixer, so I’m sure he’ll?—”
I held out a hand, stopping him mid-flow. I was pretty certain I’d heard him wrong.
“Could you repeat that?”
“My brother’s the alpha of our pack. You know, like a wolf pack?” A nervous chuckle left him. “Because we’re werewolves? Well, I am anyway and now apparently, so are you.”
“Told you so,” Bo muttered from behind the couch.
I stared blindly at Hugh’s glassy smile. My chest tightened as my sick new reality began sinking in.
“Werewolves aren’t real,” I denied.
My life was complicated enough without me turning into a four-legged monster that howled at the moon and avoided silverware.
“Says the woman currently sporting more facial hair than a Viking,” Hugh said.
I lunged for him. Ellie grabbed my arm.
“No more punching the werewolf.” She waved the bat warningly at Hugh. “Even if he deserves it.”
“He totally deserves it,” Bo said indignantly. “Abby looks terrible. I’m never going to live this down at the dog park.”
The hamster wheel started squeaking in my head again.
Hugh’s eyes bulged. “Your dog talks?!”
“Apparently that’s a thing now,” I managed between gritted teeth.
“Why do you keep saying Bo’s talking?” Ellie said, puzzled.
Hugh and I stared at her.
“You can’t hear him?” I asked.
“No.” Ellie glanced suspiciously at Bo. “Is he really talking to you?”
“Yeah,” I muttered.
“You should hear what Ellie says to her plants,” Bo grumbled. “Also, she lied about that speeding ticket she got when she was driving your car last summer. She had her coochie waxed that day and was rushing home to ice it.”
Hugh and I exchanged a look.
“Maybe your dog has werewolf blood in him?” he hazarded.
We studied Bo. He was attempting to discreetly lick his balls.
“Which part?” I said.
I realized I was getting chummy with the guy who’d turned me into a human Sasquatch and resumed scowling.
“Can we focus?” I gestured at my hairy self. “What exactly is happening to me? I mean, how can I become a werewolf overnight? I was a perfectly normal human yesterday!”
“Normal is questionable,” Bo muttered.
I cut my eyes to the Husky. He gulped and avoided my stare.
I glowered at Hugh. “Start talking.”
Hugh cleared his throat. “Well, when a werewolf bites someone?—”
I showed him my fist. “If you finish that sentence with ‘and that’s how babies are made,’ I swear to God I will punch you again.”
“Right.” Hugh scratched his cheek. “The short version is it’s not actually that hard to turn a human into a werewolf by biting them. It depends on the cycle of the moon.” He paused, like he was choosing his next words carefully. “The good news is, Samuel can help you control your transformation since he’s an alpha. The, er, the bad news is—” He stopped, a sheen of sweat suddenly beading his forehead.
“What’s the bad news?” I asked dangerously.
“You’ll have to join our pack. That’s kinda nonnegotiable.” A brittle smile stretched Hugh’s lips. “Also, the next full moon is in three days. That’s when you’ll shift fully for the first time.”
I closed my eyes and counted to ten. It didn’t help. I opened them again and glared at the asshole on the couch.
“Take me to your brother. Right now!”
“Don’t you have a meeting with the auditors this morning?” Ellie said worriedly.
Acid reflux hit my chest hard. I’d forgotten about the damn auditors.
“Turning into a werewolf sounds like a legit excuse to call in sick,” Ellie said.
“My boss will kill me if I do,” I groaned. I cut my eyes to Hugh. “How long will it take for your brother to turn me back to normal?”
“I don’t know.” He flinched when I took a threatening step toward him. “Maybe an hour!” he warbled.
“We better get going then.”
“You should wear some kind of disguise before you go anywhere.” Ellie chewed her lip. “Halloween was a month ago.”
I looked down at my pajamas and hairy everything.
“She’s right,” Hugh said. “You look pretty frightful, if I say so myself.”
Bo nodded. “Ditto. I don’t want this news out on tonight’s social howl.”
I scowled and stomped out of the living room, hairy toes and all.
“Don’t forget to grab a hat!” Ellie called out after me.
“And maybe a paper bag for your face,” Hugh added.
“Bro,” Bo said.
I slammed my bedroom door so hard the walls shook.