The Skin She's In by Margo Collins (online e book reader .txt) 📕

“We have to decide what to do with the snake-brats,” he announced.

“There is a plan in place,” Janice replied. I remained in awe of her ability to remain calm week after week.

“I would like to call a vote,” Hank said, again as usual.

“You know the protocol.” The entire conversation was falling into a routine. Hank had yet to put together a petition requesting a vote on the issue with the signatures of at least 20% of the voting shifters in the district. I hadn’t had the nerve yet to ask how many that would be. I did know that most of the wolves had signed it.

“Werewolves are arrogant assholes. Ignore them,” Kade had advised the one time I mentioned it to him.

It looked like I was going to be able to take that advice for another week, at least. Still, I was worried that a vote on the issue was inevitable.

And shifters hated lamias almost more than humans hated snakes.

I was afraid that fear would lead people to vote to treat a bunch of babies as outcasts.

AFTER I LEFT JANICE’S house, I met Eduardo for a training session.

When Ed had spoken up for me at the Council meeting where they decided whether or not to allow me to remain a member of the were community, he had specifically requested that I join the Shields, the protective arm of the ruling group. It had been a strategic move, but apparently he planned to follow through on his promise to bring me up to speed as a shifter-style cop.

So during the day, I worked as a counselor at the Children’s Advocacy and Protection Center, or the CAP-C, and a few evenings a week, I got pummeled by my mentor.

Sometimes my beatings took place when I was in serpent form and Eduardo was a werecoyote. Other times, like now, we sparred in human form in order to train me to fight under any conditions.

Right now, my condition was exhausted, and Ed’s last leg-sweep had knocked me to the ground.

I lay there panting, unwilling to get up. “That’s it,” I said, wrapping my forearms across my eyes. “I quit. I’m wiped. I’m bruised. I’m all done.”

“You going to use that line the next time someone’s out to kill you?” Ed circled around me, the slight smile on his lips never quite meeting his eyes. Truth be told, I thought Ed might be more cold-blooded than me, all things considered. I didn’t know what it might mean that he had asked me to be on his Shield team—and had apparently specifically planned to train me himself.

I didn’t want to disappoint him, though, so I dragged myself up off the dusty ground and once again took a fighting stance.

“Tell me again why I can’t shift in the middle of a confrontation?” I asked.

“It takes attention and energy to shift. You may not be able to spare those.”

“Right,” I muttered, striking out at him with one fist and missing. Ed seemed to flow away from my hands and feet, and I was always reaching out too far, overextending myself.

If I was such a crap fighter, why had he asked to have me on his team?

Part of the answer was that it had been an attempt to save me.

But there was more. I could tell. My counselor’s instincts practically shouted at me to find out the reasons, that they would be important later.

Either that or I was too curious for my own good.

Probably the latter.

“Even now, you’re distracted.” Without any other warning, Eduardo did some complicated strike-and-twist that shoved against my shoulder and practically spun me around. That he caught me before I hit the ground only proved that I was completely inept.

“I told you I was done,” I said, hanging from his grip as if we were dancing and he had just dipped me low toward the ground. “I still have reports to write up tonight.”

The werecoyote had intimidated me even before he went all Mr. Miyagi on me. Now he practically terrified me. Only the fact that I was a reptile in my other form kept him from scenting it on me—and I wasn’t even sure of that. I didn’t know how long it would last, either. Kade said he was beginning to be able to discern my mood from my scent at any given moment.

Luckily, my professional training had taught me to remain impassive in a variety of counseling situations, so I was generally also able to keep my expression clear, at least.

Now, though, I let a little bit of my irritation shine through. “I need to go home, Ed. Let me up.”

For the first time all night, his smile made it to his eyes.

Right before he dropped me.

I DIDN’T MEAN TO SHIFT. Usually, Ed is right. It takes concentration and energy to change into my lamia from—not to mention a boatload of intention.

This time, though, I did it unconsciously, and quickly, whipping away from Ed’s hand in my serpent form before I ever hit the ground.

All around me, bright sparkles spun and glittered indicating we were in an Earth-magic circle, one of the areas that allowed us to draw additional energy during our shifts.

That explained why Ed had chosen this particular spot.

Had he provoked me to shift on purpose?

Flicking my tongue out, I pulled air in over the Jacobson’s organ in my mouth that allowed me to analyze the molecules around me.

His pleased surprise at the shift fizzed through me, crisp and light. I didn’t taste any deception, didn’t smell any intent behind the action.

I had never yet met anyone who could lie with his scent.

Doesn’t mean it’s impossible.

I slithered out of the torn remains of my clothing and coiled in the dirt, continuing to assess Ed’s reaction.

“Okay, la serpiente. You’ve made your point. It’s time to head home.” Squatting in front of me, he held out one arm invitingly. “Let’s go.”

Grudgingly, I twined around his forearm, hoping he would sense my own irritation. If he did, though,