Banishing the Dark (Arcadia Bell #4)(22)

It was easier to be calm when he was. And before I knew it, I was following his advice. Long breaths in, slow breaths out. His camera hid his face as he started snapping photos. And once I felt I had a handle on myself, I glanced down.

My skin was covered in iridescent scales. Dark ones. The first time I’d seen them in the mirror, I decided they looked black, but it was hard to tell with the quicksilver tint covering everything. A striking white-and-gray reticulated pattern broke up the black scales over my neck and shoulders.

“Breathe.”

Yes. I’d forgotten.

I lifted a hand to my head, to feel what I couldn’t see. Ridges came to a point on my forehead, like a widow’s peak, just above my eyes. The ridges flared to make a V shape, and above my hairline, they changed to horns, gently curving backward like crests on a dragon: one, two, three horns lined up in a neat row on either side of my head.

So different from Lon’s spiraling ram’s horns. His were textured like a fingernail; mine were glossy and smooth.

He snapped a million pictures, circling me. I looked over my shoulder as he did, seeing what the camera’s eye captured: black and white stripes lining my back. Flowing into my tail.

It jutted out from my lower back and was a couple of inches in diameter and the same length as my legs. Black and white rings, all the way to the tip. Sort of attractive, in a strange way. I tested it, willing it to move. It swished around my ankles. I could feel my ankles with my tail. It was just another appendage, swaying back and forth like a pendulum over my ass cheeks.

Lon was taking an awful lot of pictures. Then again, my backside was my best side. While he circled me, I ran my fingers over the scales between my breasts. They were so smooth. Tougher than human skin but still soft and flexible. The camera stopped clicking. Warm fingers joined mine. I tried not to flinch, and I didn’t pull my hand away. He was inside the ward now, only a couple of feet away. And the tips of his fingers moved between mine, touching the scales that I touched. Marveling with me.

My heart fluttered. Chills ran down my arms as a familiar heat spread between my legs. Wow. A couple of seconds of innocent touching, and my body was eager to climb his. My overenthusiastic reaction wasn’t as much of a surprise as what I saw when I glanced between us. No mistaking the tented fly of his jeans.

I mean, good God.

His fingers stilled on my scales.

He knew that I knew, which freaked me out. My conscience—surprise, I had one—backhanded my sex-starved body, and I lost my grip on the transmutation. The silver light faded. Sound returned to normal. And everything seemed to just draw up inside me. Horns, scales, tail—all of it receded, then disappeared. It was almost painful and very uncomfortable.

I stood in front of Lon, self-conscious and freezing and gasping for breath.

He made a low, frustrated noise as his face tightened into a scowl. Then he spun around and stomped away to the door. “Don’t summon Priya yourself,” he barked as he struggled to unlock the door with shaking hands. “If that got your mother’s attention, you don’t want her finding out Priya’s alive. Call Jupe, and get him to question Priya while he’s on the phone with you.”

And with that, he rushed out the door and slammed it hard behind him.

The awkwardness between us faded as the night bled into morning, but it was pretty easy to ignore something when you didn’t discuss it. And we didn’t. Not a single word. Which was fine by me. Because after hours of flipping through brittle pages of medieval woodcuts, I realized the likely cause of Lon’s brief carnal interest in me: my transmutated form must have brought back memories of Yvonne.

I’d seen her in her shifted state, right before I ripped out the spell that fueled it. She was easily the most beautiful woman I’d ever laid eyes on. God only knew how many times Lon had lusted over her when she was sporting horns. Plus, she was the mother of his child, so it was only natural that he still wanted her—and only natural that my serpentine form stirred up old feelings.

Maybe my supremely good ass helped. I liked to think so. But it was over and done, and as I sat across from him in a booth in the Redwood Diner at six a.m., belly filled with griddled breakfast, I was thankful it hadn’t created anything too weird between us. If I was going to struggle with it, better to do so alone, when he was well out of empathic earshot.

Besides, I had other things to worry about. Like how my pupils hadn’t returned to normal since I shifted last night. They were elliptical, slitlike snake eyes, and my blue irises were shot through with silver. My halo was also brighter than normal. A couple of hours ago, both of these problems were worse, so at least it was fading.

But still. Not good. I thought of Priya’s warning that the Moonchild would overpower the human part of me, which could strengthen my mother’s choke hold.

Lon wasn’t convinced. He thought maybe this was just a temporary side effect—that because my transmutation wasn’t aided by an artificial spell, as his was, maybe shifting back down just wasn’t ever going to be as clean as it was for him. We were both hopeful that the side effects would continue to fade, but for now, I was forced to hide my silvery irises by wearing sunglasses indoors, like a complete jackass.

“I don’t think I’ve ever put away that many pancakes before,” I said, slumping in my seat.

“I’m impressed,” he said, giving me a soft smile as he slid his empty plate over the scratched Formica tabletop. “Vitamins.” He nodded toward the three pills he’d foisted on me like some nagging parent—to aid in my continued recovery from the hospital stay, he insisted.