Carefully, she picked it out of the tangles, and when she saw what it was, she dropped the wet mass of hair. It was another one of those weird iridescent scales she’d found in her bath sponge. She’d nearly forgotten about the last one. Or at least she’d tried to.
Gemma sat in the tub, leaning her back against the rim, and stared down at the big scale in the palm of her gloved hand.
Something strange was definitely going on with her. Ever since she’d drunk from the flask, something had felt … off.
Not that it was all bad stuff. In fact, Gemma couldn’t actually think of anything bad about the changes at all.
Sure, she’d bitten Alex yesterday, but he hadn’t really been hurt. And while the making out had been different, it hadn’t been bad. Kissing him like that had been fun.
Her body healed crazy fast. All her bruises and cuts had disappeared in just over twenty-four hours.
At swim practice today, she’d had her best times. Coach Levi was totally blown away by her speed. The weirdest part was that she actually had to hold back. She was afraid if she went as fast as she could, he’d think she was on something.
When she was in the pool, that same thing happened to her skin again. That odd sensation that felt like butterflies running from her thighs down to her toes. But it was actually a pleasurable feeling, so she didn’t mind it.
So if it was all good, what was she worried about?
Except … it wasn’t all good. As much as she wanted to brush off biting Alex’s lip, she couldn’t. She hadn’t spoken to him since then, but he’d probably passed it off as a heat-of-the-moment, kinky kind of thing. But it wasn’t.
When she’d been kissing him, she’d been so hungry. It was unlike any hunger she’d ever felt. It was part lust, like she’d wanted to kiss him and be physical with him. But the other part was actual starvation, and that’s why she’d bitten him.
That’s what terrified her. The hunger inside of her.
Gemma got out of the tub and flushed the scale down the toilet. Something was seriously wrong with her, and she had to stop it.
“Harper?” Gemma said and poked her head in her sister’s room.
“Yeah?” Harper was lounging on her bed with her e-reader.
“Can I talk to you?”
“Yeah, of course you can.” Harper set aside her e-reader and sat up straighter. “Wow. Did you do something in the bathroom?”
“Uh … why?” Gemma froze in the doorway. “What do you mean?”
“You look … good,” Harper said, for lack of a better word.
Gemma glanced down, looking herself over, but she knew what Harper meant. She’d already noticed it today. While she’d never been prone to acne, her skin was smoother, and it almost appeared to be glowing. She’d gone beyond her usual scope of pretty into something almost supernatural.
“I’ve just been using a different moisturizer.” Gemma shrugged, trying to play it off.
“Really?” Harper asked.
“No, actually”—Gemma sighed and rubbed her forehead—“that’s what I came in here to talk to you about.”
“You came to talk to me about moisturizer?” Harper raised an eyebrow.
“No, it’s not moisturizer.”
Gemma went over and sat down on the bed next to her sister. She didn’t know why she found it so hard to tell Harper about what was happening to her, except she knew she’d sound like a crazy person.
“What’s wrong?” Harper asked.
“I don’t know how to explain it,” Gemma said finally. “But … there’s something wrong with me.”
“This is about the other night, right?” Harper asked. “When you went out with Penn and the girls?”
“Yeah, kinda.” Gemma furrowed her brow.
“It’s perfectly normal to act out,” Harper said, trying to keep her tone soothing. “I mean, it’s not okay. You shouldn’t be out drinking, but it’s not uncommon. And I know I can be hard on you sometimes, but—”
“No, Harper, I’m not acting out.” Gemma sighed in frustration. “There is actually something wrong with me. Like on a cellular level.”
Harper leaned back and looked over Gemma again. “Are you sick? You don’t look sick.”
“No, I feel fine. Better than fine, actually.”
“Then I don’t understand.”
“I know you don’t.” Gemma shook her head and stared down at her lap. “But something is very wrong.”
A loud knocking came from the front door, more of a demanding pound than an actual knock. Harper glanced at her bedroom door, hesitant to leave her conversation with Gemma. But Brian was working late, and the knocking only got more insistent.
“I’m sorry,” Harper told her sister as she got up. “I’ll be right back. I’ll send whoever it is away, and we can talk.”
“Okay.” Gemma nodded.
As soon as Harper left, running down the stairs and shouting at whoever was at the door to keep their pants on, Gemma flopped back on the bed. She stared up at the ceiling and tried to think of how to phrase it to her sister that she thought she was transforming into some kind of monster.
“What are you doing here?” Harper snapped downstairs, and Gemma listened more closely.