Michael

“Michael! MICHAEL!” Emelda’s voice rips through the gloom just as I’m about to reach my front door. I’m in my wolf form, my dark brown, nearly black, coat dusted with beads of mist as I turn on the top step to look down at the vampire rushing in my direction. She’s soaking wet and moving at the speed of light as she runs up the steps, coming to an abrupt stop.

She huffs several breaths before running a hand over her wet face and opening the door.

I stride in, shift back to my usual form, and cover myself with a robe before she’s even closed the door behind...