“Because they’re weird.” Her lips twist down in a frown that honestly makes her look cute as hell. I probably shouldn’t bethinking just how adorable she is when she’s covered in blood and just offed someone, but I never claimed to be normal.
I huff a laugh. Being what I am, I know a thing or two about weird eyes. There’s nothing she could show me that would shock me.
“I promise they’re not that weird. And even if they are, I don’t care. What I do care about is any injuries to you, and I’m getting worried when I can’t see for myself that you’re okay. You think you could do me a favor and show me your eyes?”
She sighs. Lark then tilts up her head and blinks open the most startlingly neon-green eyes I’ve ever seen.
I was wrong about not being shocked. So fucking wrong.
My breath stalls in my lungs as I try to wrap my brain around what this means and how the fuck we missed it. I’m sure gaping at her isn’t helping the situation any, but this is so far from what I expected that it’s not even funny.
Lark’s one of us.
Her neon eyes, the same base color as her regular eyes, are a dead giveaway. Regular shifters’ eyes turn amber when they change forms or experience strong emotions. Our kind is unique in that our eyes glow a neon shade of our normal eye color instead.
Somehow, she’s survived twenty-five years without a valor to protect her. Had the fae known what she was, she would’ve been hunted down and slaughtered before she could even walk.
Her saving grace is that she smells just like a normal shifter. Sometime, when there’s not a dead dude in the same room, we’ll need to figure out why she smells like that and how she ended up living with regular shifters. But now’s not the time.
“Oh, fuck,” I blurt and instantly regret it when her face falls. “Your eyes aren’t weird at all. I promise. I’ve actually seen eyes exactly like yours many, many times.”
That’s an understatement, if I’ve ever heard one.
She squints at me, like she’s looking for a lie. When she doesn’t find it, she relaxes minutely. “If you say so.”
I give her a reassuring smile before calming calling, “Hey, Az. I need you to come here. We have a bit of a situation.”
Az’s voice is dripping with sarcasm when he growls, “You fucking think, Sherlock? There’s some guy dead on the floor, and Lark’s entire apartment is covered in the evidence. Jesus fucking Christ, this is a mess. It’s gonna take cleaners at least a day, if not more, to wipe the scene clean.”
“I’m aware,” I say in as level of a tone as I can manage. I don’t want to freak her out, but this is a really big fucking deal. It changes everything. “But I really think you’re going to want to see this.”
He sighs and stomps over to where we are behind the sofa. He stops in his tracks when he gets a good look at her eyes before crouching down to be eye level with her. “Well, well, well, little bird. What have you been hiding?”
CHAPTER 28
LARK
My eyes go wide at Azrael’s comment, and my heart starts beating hard, which makes my still-injured head throb painfully. While shifting healed me enough to string a thought together, my head is still pretty banged up.
I’ve kept what I am a secret for so long out of fear of what would happen if anyone found out. Azrael’s comment doesn’t really do anything to ease that worry.
He’s dressed just as intimidatingly as usual, in a perfectly tailored black suit and matching shirt and tie. I’d like to think he would look less threatening in a tee and jeans, but I can’t imagine him ever dressing down that much.
Without taking his spring-green gaze off me, Hal reaches back and slugs Azrael in the arm. Azrael looks so offended at the move that I’d laugh if I weren’t trying so hard not to fall apart.
As soon as I saw Hal, the numbness that was blocking all the emotions roiling under the surface started to crack. Now, I’m trying my damnedest not to break down into a sobbing, shaking mess. I don’t want the guys to see me like that.
“Do you know what you are, wild girl?” Hal asks quietly, like I’m a wild animal he’s afraid to spook. That honestly might notbe far from the truth right now, as everything in me is screaming to run away and not look back.
Unable to force any words out of my bruised and sore throat, I just shake my head. I wish I knew what I was, but I don’t. It’s been a mystery since the first time I shifted, one I’ve guarded closely for fear of what could happen if anyone found out.
“Well, the good news is we know exactly what you are. You’re one of us. There’s nothing to be scared of.” He gives me what’s supposed to be a reassuring smile, but the worry in his gaze kind of ruins the effect.
Still, a tiny seed of hope blooms in my chest. He not only knows what I am but is also the same thing I am. I never thought I’d find anyone like me or ever figure out why I have weird eyes and can shift into so many different creatures.
“What am I?” I rasp.
“It’s going to make more sense if I show you, but I can’t do that here.” His face is apologetic, and I, admittedly, feel disappointed. But I can wait a little longer. Shoving a hand through his brown hair, Hal asks, “Can you tell me what happened?”
