The minute I spent pulling them over wet skin covered in chill bumps was well worth it.
Barefoot and still shivering, I jogged past the lobby, the main desk, and the administrative office, headed toward the stairs at the end of the hall. My stomach was cramping with hunger and my head swam as I fought disorientation from shifting twice—one hell of a metabolic workout—without eating. And I couldn’t make my teeth stop chattering, no matter how hard I clenched my jaw.
I flinched when the door to the third floor landing squealed, even though I’d known it would. Darren would probably be able to hear that squeal from inside my dorm room, but he’d have no idea I wasn’t just another student staying on campus for the holiday.
I jogged silently down the hall, slowing as I approached my door, and only then realized that if the door was locked, I’d actually have to knock to be let in. I’d left my keys in my bag, back at the lodge.
Holding my breath, I pressed my internally shifted ear to the door and mentally catalogued the sounds from inside. Bedsprings groaned. The bathroom door squealed open, then partially shut, and water ran in the sink.
I closed my eyes and said a silent prayer that I wasn’t too late. That Darren wasn’t cleaning himself up after having slaughtered my best friend and roommate. Then I turned the knob and pushed the door open.
Robyn lay on her back on her unmade bed with her arms at her sides. Her eyes were closed. Blood was smeared across her lips and dripping down one cheek toward the pillow. She wasn’t moving.
Grief and denial slammed into me like a blow straight to my chest, and I couldn’t breathe. I was too late. Darren had killed her, and if I left her body there, he would dismember it and hang her head from…
Wait, why would he kill her in human form? According to Hargrove, unless her teeth had been shifted when she died, her human head would be worthless to mount, and presumably horrifically incriminating, should it ever be seen by the police. But Robyn hadn’t yet mastered any form of partial-shift. She’d hardly been able to control the normal full-body shift until recently.
Either way, dead or alive, I couldn’t leave her.
A glance at the bathroom showed that the door was only open a crack, and though I could see Darren’s shadow moving inside, I couldn’t see the psycho himself. Which meant he probably couldn’t see me.
Heart pounding, I crept silently across the room, listening for any sign that he might emerge. I was two feet from the bed when I realized Robyn’s chest was rising and falling in tiny but steady increments.
She was still alive.
My pulse rushed with sudden hope—and desperate urgency—and my head swam. I glanced at the bathroom door again and saw a sliver of Darren’s arm bleeding into the sink as he ran water over an open wound. If he leaned back, he’d see me. But I was out of options and out of time.
I lunged across the last two feet of carpet and almost tripped over a strange black bag near the foot of the bed. It had to belong to Darren, but there was no time to investigate, so I stepped over the bag and slid one arm beneath Robyn’s neck and one beneath her knees, praying she wouldn’t suddenly wake up and start screaming. But she was out cold.
The room spun around me when I lifted her, and though that should have been an effortless task for a shifter, it nearly cost me my consciousness. I was only operating at about half of my potential strength and speed, thanks to hunger and exhaustion. If I didn’t find food soon, Darren would gain a second unconscious shifter through no effort of his own.
Blinking to keep the world in focus, I carried Robyn to the ajar door and pushed it open with my foot. My vision began to darken in the hall, and one knee tried to fold beneath me. Even if I made it to the stairwell, I’d never make it down the steps without passing out, and the subsequent fall could kill us both.
I would have to hide.
Instead of turning right, toward the stairs, I turned left and headed down the empty hall as quickly as I could, counting the doors as I went. When Darren discovered her missing, if he didn’t assume we’d gone down the steps, he’d start checking dorm rooms, beginning with the closest. I would walk until I couldn’t walk any farther. Or until he came out of the bathroom.