The first officer laughs. “As if you don’t know, you naughty minx. You haven’t shown up for your venereal disease check-ups. And look at ye – darty eyed, blood on your lip, roaming the streets in naught but a fur coat. Looks like hysteria with a touch of syphilis to me! We can’t have you infecting the good men of this city.”
“This is preposterous.” I strain against the shackles, but they must be inlaid with silver, because I can’t break them. “We had an exemption. Your boss—”
“Not anymore, you don’t. You should have been more generous, sweetheart.” He breathes smoke into my face. “You thought you were special, but you’re just one morecocottewho’s going to learn her place.”
30
Arabella
IWATCH THE WOLF FROM ABOVE.
She watches me back, sitting upright, ears pricked, brown eyes alert. The more I study her features, the more I’m certain of it – that wolf is my friend.
She has Celeste’s red streaks in her auburn coat, her kind eyes, and a feral regality to her features. And there is the matter of that earring. The wolf didn’t pierce her own ear.
Plus, wild wolves haven’t been seen in England since before I was given the Kiss. And while I believe it likely many members of Sanctus lay claim to exotic pets, this she-werewolf isn’t a pet.
She’s my friend.
I’m contemplating what to do with this new information when the wolf’s head whips around, her snout in the air, sniffing some new scent. A moment later, there’s another knock on my door.
The wolf leaps into the bushes, heading closer to the stairs leading to the house, body low to the ground.
Hunting.
My heart thuds against my chest. I pull across the tablet that controls the features of the house and bring up the security camera. A figure stands on my doorstep, one hand casually wrapped around a bottle of blood while the other swipes through his phone.
It’s Gideon.
And coming up right behind him is Celeste.
Gideon has his head bent down, focusing on his phone. He has a tote bag from a gaming shop slung under his arm. A moment later, a text beeps on my screen.
Gideon:I’m here to work on our routine before tomorrow’s rehearsal. I promise I’ll even let you dress me as a meerkat.
I text back as quickly as I can.
Arabella:You fool, get out of here.
I search my memories for what I know about werewolves, which isn’t much. They exist only as rumours among our kind – fairytale stories about a time long forgotten. All I know is that every full moon, a werewolf transforms into their wolf form, with all the wolfish instincts and proclivities that entails. A single werewolf can terrorise a whole village when their shift overtakes them, and they are driven by their hunger, their need to eat and to protect their territory. If they ever did exist, I’ve been told, they were hunted to extinction a long time ago.
But that can’t be true. Because Celeste ishere, stalking towards Gideon, and one thing Idoknow about werewolves is that in their wolf form they are vicious, and their hunger knows no limits.
My phone beeps again.
Gideon:Is that any way to talk to the greatest meerkat to ever grace the stage? Please let me in. Don’t make me press my beautiful face pathetically against the window.
As quickly as I can, I grab the dead songbird (don’t think about bird guts between your fingers) and the tablet, punching the button to open the living room window.
“Hey, Celeste,” I call out. “You don’t want him. He’ll be stringy. No flavour.”
I toss the poor songbird out the window. I have many talents, but underarm bowling is not one of them. The birdsplatsagainst the sculptural fountain in my garden, spilling blood and bits across the white tiles. The scent hits my nostrils, and a flash of raw hunger surges in me. But Celeste doesn’t even slow down. The bushes rustle as she sneaks closer to Gideon.
I’ve got Gideon’s attention, at least. He steps out from the entrance, gaze trained on the bits of bird. “Arabella, what’s going on?”
Shit.
The wolf growls. I slam the window shut as Gideon hollers. He whirls around, searching for something that could fend off a wolf. Celeste leaps for Gideon. I sprint to the front door, punching the button to open it as I grab an umbrella from the stand.
