notice I’m lying on a bed, in what I think is a dimly lit bedroom. Which doesn’t make sense, because the last thing I remember is talking to the Bloodletter—right up until I heard someone in my head with a British accent.
My eyes fly open as I remember Hudson, and I bolt upright, then wish I hadn’t as the room spins around me. I do my best to breathe through the nausea and focus on remembering what’s important. Namely, Hudson, and what he did or didn’t do.
Did he take control of my body again?
Did he hurt Jaxon or the Bloodletter, and is that why they’re not here?
Worse, did I hurt them?
I glance down at myself, checking for blood—something I’ll probably do every time I wake up for the rest of my life now, courtesy of Hudson’s little werewolf-hunting expedition. So, thanks for that, Hudson. I appreciate the mental scars.
“Sorry, I didn’t think he’d bleed so much. It was just a little prick. Then again, so is he.”
Oh God. I didn’t imagine it. Damn. I close my eyes and lie back down, praying that none of this is actually happening. That it’s all just a really bad dream.
“Stop talking to me!” I order.
“Why on earth would I do that now that you can finally hear me? Do you have any idea how boring it gets in here? Especially when you spend so much of your time mooning all over the place about my loser brother. It’s nauseating, really.”
“Yeah, well, feel free to leave anytime you want,” I suggest.
“What do you think I’ve been trying to do?” Exasperation colors his tone. “But you got pissed off about that, too, even though it was your idea. No offense, Grace, but you’re a hard woman to please.”
This isn’t happening. It can’t be. The body snatching was bad enough, but now I have to deal with this disembodied voice in my head, too? And not just any disembodied voice but one that belongs to a psychopath with a full-on British accent? How is this my life?
“Hey now, I resent that. I’m not disembodied. At least not completely.”
“I see you’re not even going to argue about the psychopath part.” I shake my head in astonishment.
“It’s called picking your battles. You should try it sometime. You might end up in the infirmary less. Just saying.”
The fact that he might be right about this one specific comment only annoys me more. “Is there a point to this conversation?”
“Grace,” he says softly. “Open your eyes.”
I don’t want to do it. I don’t even know why, except that I really, really don’t want to.
But at the same time, it’s sort of a compulsion. The kind that I know is going to hurt later—like when I chipped my tooth in seventh grade and couldn’t resist touching it with my tongue, even though I knew it was so sharp, it would cut me. That’s what it feels like listening to Hudson tell me to open my eyes.
“Wow, so I’m a toothache now?” He sounds insulted. “Thaaaaanks.”
“If you were a toothache, I’d go to the dentist and let her drill you out of my head,” I tell him, my voice filled with the frustration I can’t get away from. “Without novocaine.”
“You’ve got quite the mean streak in you, Grace. Does it make me a masochist if I admit that I like it?”
Ugh. Seriously? I can stand the voice in my head. I can maybe even put up with the fact that that voice belongs to Hudson. But the sexual innuendo is going to make me vomit.
I finally stop fighting myself and decide to open my eyes if it means it will shut him up, even for a second. Then really wish I hadn’t because—
Holy hell. He’s right there, one wide shoulder resting against the icy wall near a lamp, long legs crossed at the ankle, obnoxious smirk on his ridiculously pretty face. He’s got the signature Vega high cheekbones and strong jawline, but that’s where the similarity to Jaxon ends. For where Jaxon’s eyes may be as black as a starless night, Hudson’s are an endless blue sky. Thick eyebrows, the same shade of rich dark brown as his short hair, slant downward, his gorgeous eyes narrowing as he takes in every detail of my reaction. And that’s when I realize, Jaxon might ooze power and danger in his every movement, but Hudson has always been the real one to fear. Jaxon was a blunt weapon next to his brother, who seems to