“Do your inner animals think they’re monsters?”
That was a question that had never occurred to him before. “I don’t know. I don’t know what they think they are.”
“Why don’t you ask them?”
“Hang on. I will.”
What doyouthink you are?Carter asked.
I don’t know,hissed one.
I can’t tell,chittered another.Who knows?
[baffled fuchsia]
If you’d stop shoving us away, maybe we could figure it out,growled another.
That caught Carter’s attention.What do you mean?
You keep pushing us down,screeched another.
Squashing us into the tiniest corner of your mind,snarled another.
Stop it,shrieked another.
He repeated this exchange to Fen, adding, “I don’t know what to do about it, though. If I don’t push them away, they yell so loud I can’t hear myself think. I’ll work on it, though. It was a good idea of yours. Maybe if they feel like I’m giving them more space, they can sort themselves out a bit better.”
“You’ve gotten better at controlling them, right? Maybe eventually you really will be able to shift into a bunch of different animals.”
He didn’t believe it, but he shrugged. “Maybe. In the meantime, I’m stuck with all this.” He waved a clawed hand at his eyes and wings.
Fen looked up at him with an odd expression. “You still don’t believe I think you’re hot like this.”
He didn’t want to outright accuse her of lying to spare his feelings. And shehadhad sex with him when he was partially monstered. But he’d had his gloves on. And that was before the wings. “Well…”
“You don’t,”she said. “Okay. I’ll prove it.”
Chapter 28
“Carter,do you know what women read?” Fen asked.
He blinked confusedly. “That’s an interesting change of topic.”
“It’s not, and I’m serious.”
He clearly seemed to think it was a trick question. Cautiously, he said, “Different women read different things. Your mother reads anything that wins a prestigious award. You read P. G. Wodehouse.”
Grinning, Fen said, “I appreciate your attempt to not stereotype, but for the purposes of this discussion, I’m talking about romance. Erotica.Porn.”
“Fifty Shades of Gray?”
She took out her phone, opened it to Amazon, and, using voice commands, said, “Wing romance.”
Triumphantly, she tapped the screen with a fingernail, forcing Carter to look at all the book covers with sexy shirtless winged men. “Angel romance. Dark angel romance. Fallen angel romance. See? Wings are hot!”
“Those are feathered wings.”
“Demon romance,” she said to the phone.
