Something was happening to me. Something I couldn’t explain away with WebMD symptom searches or rational thinking, and that terrified me more than any stranger with golden-brown eyes ever could.
I skated through another workday, moving carefully, speaking minimally, and avoiding eye contact with Bartlett. Thankfully, today had been blissfully free of inexplicable frost patterns and reindeer visitations. I even managed to get through a clientconsultation without suggesting that anyone should receive lumps of coal. Progress.
Friday afternoon freedom beckoned as I put away files and shut down my computer. The weekend stretched ahead like a promise with forty-eight uninterrupted hours where I could lock myself in my house and avoid Christmas decorations, mysterious men, and any form of supernatural wildlife.
As I stepped onto the elevator and caught my reflection in the mirrored walls, I frowned at the noticeable unevenness creeping across my spray tan. The warm glow I’d gotten on Monday was already fading in patches.
Perfect. Just what I needed to complete my week of bizarre bodily betrayals.
I briefly considered letting the tan fade completely. It would certainly save me money, but the last time I’d gone au naturel for longer than a week, a guy at the grocery store had asked if I was filming a vampire movie. My natural complexion wasn’t just pale, it was practically translucent. Without the protective layer of artificial bronze, I reflected sunlight with enough intensity to potentially cause traffic accidents.
Decision made, I texted Serena at Glow Goddess to see if she could squeeze me in. Her immediate “come right over” response was the only good thing that had happened all week.
Thirty minutes later, I stood in a paper-thin disposable thong, arms extended like a starfish while Serena circled me with her spray gun. The small booth smelled of coconut and chemicals, a combination that had once been comforting, but now it made my nose itch.
“Hmm.” Serena paused, her brow furrowing as she examined my stomach.
I dropped my arms. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s...” She tilted her head. “It’s not taking right. See this?” She pointed to a patch on my ribcage where the color looked almost watered down. “And here.” Another spot on my forearm showed the same uneven absorption.
“Maybe the nozzle is clogged?” I offered, trying not to soundas desperate as I felt. If even my spray tans were going haywire, what hope did I have for maintaining any semblance of normal?
Serena shook her head. “Let me try the darker formula. Maybe your skin is being stubborn today.”
“Whatever works.” I resumed my starfish pose, closing my eyes when she began spraying again.
The cool mist hit my skin in even sweeps. I counted my breaths, trying not to think about ice powers or telepathic reindeer or cookies that magically appeared in my car.
“What the hell?” Serena’s voice snapped my eyes open.
The new formula wasn’t doing much better. In some places it had taken fine, but on my chest and hands it refused to absorb, leaving a mottled, sickly effect.
“Is something wrong with the machine?” I stared down at my blotchy arms in horror. I looked like I was molting.
Serena ran a finger experimentally across my shoulder. “Your skin feels normal. The temperature’s fine, no excess oils.” She frowned harder. “It’s like the pigment is being... rejected.”
“Rejected? By my skin?” I squeaked. “That’s not a thing. That can’t be a thing.”
She pressed her lips together. “Well, it’s definitely a thing happening right now. I’ve been doing this for eight years, and I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Of course, she hadn’t. Because normal people’s bodies didn’t suddenly decide to repel spray tans. Normal people didn’t frost over windows or talk to Christmas fauna.
After a third failed attempt with yet another formula, I gave up. I looked like I’d been tanning with stickers all over my body. I paid Serena extra for her trouble, mumbled something about seeing a dermatologist, and fled to my car.
By the time I got home, I’d convinced myself this was just one more thing to add to my growing list of “weird shit happening to Neve that she’s going to aggressively ignore until it goes away.” Right below ice powers and the box of cookies that was waiting for me on my doorstep.
Chapter 4
Total Hack Job
Ijolted awake to sunlight streaming through the blinds I’d forgotten to close. Typical. The universe couldn’t even grant me the small mercy of sleeping in on Saturday. I groaned and rolled over, my hand sliding across the silky sheets. Something felt different. Wrong.
I lifted my arm into a shaft of sunlight and froze.
Where yesterday there had been a patchy, leopard-print disaster of bronze and alabaster, my skin now gleamed with uniform paleness. Not just my normal paleness. No, this was full-on Snow White territory. As if I’d never applied a spray tan or been in the sun in my entire life.
I scrambled out of bed, tripping over my duvet in my haste to reach the bathroom. The mirror confirmed that every trace of artificial color had vanished. My skin looked like fresh snow. It was absolutely terrifying.
