Skinwalker

Chapter One

"Once upon a time there lived in a certain village a little country girl, the prettiest creature who was ever seen."

Creek's End had been the make out spot for the town's teenage population for as long as I could remember. I had overheard the many tales girls in my graduating class whispered about their nighttime adventures at the rocky point that jutted out over Willow Creek. The guys, in turn, had boasted about their sordid conquests to their friends, the listeners always cheering them on.

It was almost like a right of passage here. You weren't really a woman or a man until you had been invited out to Creek's End. Everyone knew what went down there. You'd spend the night in a car, steaming up the windows and hoping the Sheriff didn't make his nightly rounds until after the final, gasped breath.

My freshman year of high school, I had made a promise to myself that I'd never wind up there. I'd scoff at any guy who dared to ask me and question, "what kind of girl do you take me for, exactly?" while pressing a hand to my chest in mock anger. They would have to woo me first, wine and dine me before I ever agreed.

Truth be told, I had never anticipated being asked. I flew under the radar at school, and most guys barely acknowledged my presence. I had always, unapologetically, been a nerd. My ideal Friday night was lounging around the house eating Phish Food ice cream in my pajamas and raving on my blog about the newest ARC I'd gotten my hands on.

My adoptive parents always joked that they took in an 80 year old woman wearing a teenager's skin. I mean, I knew I wasn't your average 19 year old–in more ways than one–but the thought of going out never appealed to me. It just seemed exhausting. All of the talking, and the people, and the mingling... No, I'd rather stay home and get lost between the pages of a book. Inhaling the skin-warmed pages in the comforting cocoon of my downy quilt while sipping on hot cocoa was my idea of a good time.

Honestly, I wasn't even sure how to act around 'normal' people. Most teenagers didn't slip out of their human skin like a coat and grow a tail occasionally, but I did. When I got restless and irritable, the only cure was to shift skins and go running. There was nothing quite like feeling the forest, soft and lush, under your paws as you raced between trees with the wind tickling your ears. The change prickled under my human skin when I was anxious or under any stress, so I've always been afraid that if I did go out, I'd change in front of a crowd of people when my nerves got the best of me.

Johanna and James Grace, my adoptive parents, were aware of my... unique ability. They understood it about as much as I did–which was to say, not at all. All they knew was what the man who placed me in their arms told them all those years ago: "The shift will take her when her body grows from girl to woman. Do not be frightened; she is a gift. We entrust her to you."

Lo and behold, when I hit 11 and my body underwent the usual changes, I also discovered my second form. Mom, a doctor by trade, had clinically explained puberty to me in mortifying detail, so I was prepared for the grosser aspects of it. Growing boobs was nice and well, but the other bits? The hair growing in weird places and other unsavory parts? It was the pits.

But the worst part was the first change.

There I was, minding my own business and brushing my teeth, about to jump into the shower, when a tingle started in my spine, taking my breath away. It spread like wildfire, burning sparks traveling across my body at lightning speed. Dropping my toothbrush, I grasped at the marble counter top, unsure what was happening. I'd tried to call out, but every time I opened my mouth, steam rushed in and boiled the words away.

I couldn't catch a solid breath.

I caught sight of my face in the mirror, and froze. The skin on my cheeks was writhing, my nose shifting shapes. Pressure behind my teeth made my eyes tear up and my mouth opened on a silent cry. Newly grown fangs glistened in the bathroom light. I clamped my mouth shut, gouging out a chunk of skin on my bottom lip. I swallowed blood before reaching for the hand towel laying beside the sink. I brought it up to my mouth, only just noticing the claws that had sprouted my from nail beds. I opened my mouth to scream but a high-pitched whine was all that emerged.