Page 24 of Mating Season
What can I say? All that is true, technically. “I can explain,” I say.
“I’m calling the police.”
I push my way into the apartment before she can shut the door on me, which I know obviously isn’t a great way to gain her trust, but we can’t have this conversation outside in full view of possible passing neighbors.
She races to the kitchen and grabs a giant knife.
I hold up my hands in surrender. “Please, just listen to me. Just hear me out. What I’m about to tell you is going to be hard to believe.”
“You sick, psycho. Why did you take her?”
“She’s my mate.”
“What does that even mean? You’re fixated on her or something?”
I can’t just shift and show her. Though honestly that would probably scare her more.
“No. I mean… no, I’m not fixated.” The more I try to explain this, the worse it will be.
My gaze shifts to the wooden block that holds all her kitchen knives. Her gaze shifts there as well. We both race for it, but I beat her there and pull out a knife of my own. I jump out of her reach as she slices at me.
“Nikki, I need you to calm down.”
“You’re a psycho stalker with a knife. I willnotcalm down!”
“I need you to just listen. I’m going to tell you something that’s going to sound crazy, but I can prove it, so just watch.”
She still has her knife raised, but I at least have her attention now. She isn’t about to look away from the knife in my hand. I decide a visual demonstration is easier than explanation first.
I raise the knife and slice it down my forearm.
She gasps, horrified. This was clearly not what she was expecting me to do with the knife. I’m also kicking myself for not giving Rosalie this demonstration originally back in my den. It just didn’t occur to me at the time—not that it would have made much difference.
“Nikki, watch.”
I point to my arm. Her gaze follows to watch as the wound seals itself.
She shakes her head. “It’s a trick.”
“It’s not a trick. How would that be a trick? This isn’t stage magic. You literally just saw me heal right in front of you.”
The human mind is ridiculously stubborn at accepting any reality that doesn’t match its current programming—something which often benefits the otherworld, but isn’t nearly as convenient right now. In general we don’t worry that much about the humans seeing some bit of unexplainable magic because they never trust their lying eyes anyway.
“How did you… How… What…” Finally her gaze raises to mine. “Whatareyou?”
Oh good. We’ve finally reached the explanation portion. And she at least is quickly coming around to the idea that I might not be fully human. It’s a start.
“I’m a bear shifter.”
She wrinkles her nose. “A werebear… like a werewolf?”
I roll my eyes. “We don’t saywere, but sure. About a month ago on the full moon, I was out in the woods… doing bear things,when I heard a woman scream. It was Rosalie. A man was attacking her.”
“The man she was running from?” Nikki says, trying to understand and put the pieces together.
I have to at least give her credit for making an attempt to understand all this instead of screaming and throwing all her kitchen knives at me—not that that would do anything.
“No, shewasrunning from me.” I probably shouldn’t have said that part.
