Sharp Change(5)

“What the heck do you mean the barbecue? Isn’t that on Sunday?”

“Sophia? Are you OK? You do know it’s Sunday right?” Her sister’s humor faded as worry filled her voice.

Ah shit! It had taken all of two seconds to burst her sister’s bulletproof happiness bubble. “Of course I know it’s Sunday,” she lied with a chuckle. “I’m just messing with you. I’ll see you in two hours, OK? Don’t worry sis, I’ll be there.”

She took a deep breath. Thank God Julia wasn’t next to her, or she’d smell the lie in no time. Stupid shifter genes. There was no hiding the truth from any of them.

Ugh, her body was sore and sensitive, like when she was PMSing or ready to get the flu. Keep working like a robot, you nimrod, and your mistakes are only going to increase, she thought.

The groan that slipped through her lips came out sounding more like a strangled frog, which begged the question, was she also getting a sore throat? She couldn’t believe she’d slept through Saturday. She must have been super exhausted.

She needed coffee. Tossing the pillow to the floor, she sat up and looked around her room. Something was off, but she couldn’t put her finger on what. Her nose wrinkled at a distant foul smell. Something to investigate later; right now she needed to take a shower.

She sat on the toilet, relieving her ready-to-burst bladder. Still wondering what was different, she kept her eyes closed, stripped off her tank top and shorts, and walked into the shower. A low hiss pierced the air as warm water caressed her skin.

She looked around, wondering where the noise had come from.

There was nothing.

She took her time washing her hair and hummed while she brushed her teeth. Much more awake when she got out of the shower, she stretched and yawned.

She grabbed a fluffy blue towel and dried off, wondering why the material felt so coarse on her skin. Sandpaper would probably feel softer. Apparently she needed to change her fabric softener.

Wrapped in her short purple robe, she walked out of the bathroom, not bothering with the foggy mirror. A noise at her front door grabbed her attention as she was about to get dressed.

“Coming,” she yelled as she walked to the door.

Leaving the chain on, she opened the door to look outside. On her front lawn lay her weekend newspaper, ready to get soaked by the sprinklers that were going to turn on in a few minutes.

Growling at having to go outside and get it in her robe, she peered around and saw no one. She ran out onto her front lawn just as two of her neighbors walked out.





Chapter Two



The man across from her, Henry—or was it Harry—had asked her out once, but she’d declined. He grabbed his paper and took a deep breath. His head snapped up, and he looked right at her.

The other man, Richard Lezz, she knew from The Back Door. He was a regular there and made her feel super uncomfortable with his slick toothy smiles and I’m-too-sexy demeanor.

Richard, or Dick as he preferred—although why he’d like to be known as Dick Lezz was beyond her understanding—also took a deep breath and turned to stare in her direction. Then to her consternation, they both started walking toward her.

Something weird was going on with their faces. Dick had never looked so severe, and Harry looked positively feral. Self-preservation made her run into the house and lock the door.

What the fuck?

Taking shallow breaths, she peeked through the peephole and saw them stop in the middle of the street. They stared at her house for a few moments and turned back to their own, walking back slowly and looking at her place every few steps.

What the heck was that about? She was tempted to make the sign of the cross and find some holy water. As she walked back to her room, she decided she’d have to control her mental instability at the barbecue. No need for Chase to know she was halfway past deranged.

She pulled on a charcoal wrap dress and some flat sandals to go with it. Walking to the bathroom she looked at her hair and almost collapsed. When the heck had it grown so long? Had she been ignoring it to the point it now reached her shoulders?

She knew she’d gotten a cut only two weeks ago…hadn’t she? There was no debating she’d been preoccupied with her research; she must not have noticed how long it had gotten. One thing was for sure: that long sleep seemed to have helped her get some color back.

Her skin was positively glowing with vitality, and even her eyes had a clear, gemstone sparkle to them. Hey, maybe now that she actually looked better than just a geeky geneticist, she could find a way to make her vocal chords work in front of FBA Chase.

For some reason she didn’t want to question, she felt the need to check the street before she walked out. Her two neighbors’ reactions had scared the crap out of her. Plus, she didn’t have any weapons to fight big, four-legged, super-fast man-animals…hmm…manimals…now that was funny. She’d made up a new word.