If I wasn’t really their kid, I highly doubted they even knew. The Montgomerys were one of those so-called “dynasty” families that were weird about potential spouses tainting their bloodline. This was so strong in fact that my grandparents threatened to cut off my eldest uncle’s inheritance if he went through with marrying a barmaid he met back in college. Needless to say, he’s still miserably living in a lap of luxury as a terminal bachelor.
Had there been a mix up at the hospital? Had I really been switched at birth?
Was it even a mistake?
If I was somehow related to Casey and Felicia, someone knew about the swap. Why else had I been targeted? Why kill Blaine, only to bother bringing me back to life? Maybe I really was a Changeling, in more ways than one.
We remained silent for the rest of the drive after Reese dropped Carly back off at her house.
“You sure you don’t want to do something? Help get your mind off things?” Reese finally asked, rolling up to the side street of my house.
I shook my head. “I’ll be okay. My folks…or whoever they are…they’re home tonight, and we don’t really get to spend a lot of time together.”
“If you change your mind—”
I reached over and kissed his cheek. “You’ll be the first one I call.”
Considering Mom’s rant this morning, I figured it would be best to not get caught doing anything more, especially right outside the house, so I blushingly said goodbye and climbed out. I still would have loved to see the look on her face though if she had caught us.
Mom had made my dad and me promise that we’d always reserve Thursday nights for family. So long as Dad wasn’t away on business, we’d adjust our schedules accordingly and actually take the time to sit down for dinner and eat—together. I was supposed to be home by seven, and it was already a quarter after.
I prepared myself for a tongue lashing as I walked in the front, only to be greeted by silence. My heart immediately sank. “Hello?”
No response, except for Mom’s Persian cat lounging on the entryway table. She let out a low growl at me as I hung up my coat.
“Belles?” I brought my hand up to stroke her, seeing the fur on her arched back and tail puffing up. She hissed, swatting a tiny paw at me, and I took the hint. I called out for my folks again as I headed into the kitchen, receiving no answer.
Shocker.
Given that there wasn’t a trace of anything in the fridge but restaurant doggy bags, it meant I’d have to fend for myself. Rummaging through the containers, I found nothing but some old Thai food. I couldn’t remember the last time anyone here even ordered that, so I figured it’d be best to stay away from it.
“Who’s in the mood for delivery?” I queried to the empty kitchen, plucking off the coupon I had pinned up on the fridge. “No objections? Perfect.”
I ordered two extra-large cheese pizzas and headed up the stairs. The guy on the phone said I had forty-minutes till they dropped off the food, so I had time to take a shower beforehand. I kicked the door open to my bedroom, lobbing my jacket on the nightstand as I grabbed some fresh clothes from my closet. All the blood drained from my face as I looked up at the mirror beside my dresser.
“Look at what we have here,” cooed the brunette standing in the corner. In one swift motion, she crossed the room and shut the door. “About time you showed up. I’ve been waiting forever.”
I whirled around, almost winding up on my ass as I stumbled backwards over my book bag. It was the girl from Rockabilly Bob’s.
“What a pretty little thing you are. The Master’s going to be very pleased with this.” She practically salivated as she eyed me up and down like I was a hot fudge sundae. Her eyes burned a smoldering gold as her smile grew.
Crap.
She was a Hellhound.
“Any chance you’ll believe that this is just a case of mistaken identity?” I laughed feebly.
“Afraid not,” she cooed, taking her time as she sauntered towards me. “Could’ve spotted you a mile away.”
“And why’s that?” My voice cracked over each word.
“You’re marked.”
“Come again?” I looked over my shoulder, seeing the two-story drop outside the window. The chance that Mom’s rose bush garden below would cushion my fall seemed unlikely. In fact, it sounded awfully prickly. The girl guarded my path to the doorway, knowing full well I’d never manage to snake around her. And even at the off chance I managed, she’d probably wolf-out and rip me in half with her teeth.
“You’re marked,” she reiterated. “You belong to him now, and the Master has his plans.” She snarled, snapping forward.