The concrete was as cold as ice against my face as I laid prone on the basement floor. But I didn't have the energy to move, nor any warmer area to move to. I also wasn't sure if there would be enough warmth anywhere in the world to comfort me.

The only light I had down here came from a small window high on the one wall furthest from me. Which was the only way I could figure out how long I'd spent down here. Three long, agonizing days.

I'd lost count of how many times I fought, screamed for help, raged and even begged while Philip was here that first night. But, of course, no one came to save me. Once he was able to subdue me, click the manacle to my ankle and stick me with a syringe that was filled with some sort of light sedative, I found out exactly what kind of a monster he was. No, he wasn't a shifter or anything. Most of the time the true monsters are the humans.

Philip was the last face I saw. No one had been down since. I didn't really know how I felt about that, other than extremely thirsty. The pain, which seemed to seep out of every pore, was less sharp now. More like total-body dull throbbing. There was nothing I could do about it, anyway.

No one was coming to save me. I was sure by now that my mother had come up with some reason why I wasn't at the coffee shop. My best friend had sold me to Dookey. And I had told T4 that I was giving them their freedom. They were probably using that freedom, and I was not even thought of. Even if they did, they wouldn't have made it past the front door.

I was going to die here on the floor, totally forgotten about.

I'd also done some pondering about the fact that my mother apparently wasn't actually the woman who gave birth to me. At least I knew why she never loved me. Answers were answers.

Unfortunately, that particular answer only led to more questions. Where was my birth mother? How did I end up in the custody of the hag upstairs? Was my distaste for the bean water hereditary? Was I really something other than human?

I was trying to tell myself that the answers didn't matter. I would probably be dead before I got any.

Suddenly the upstairs door opened, and down came the Hag and… Mr. Thompson.

It appeared life was not yet finished packing me up the fudge factory.

"Pepper spray or taser?"

The Hag just scowled at me, but Thompson cocked his head. ".....what?"

"I want your opinion. Since I have every intention of getting out of here, I'll need something with me to make sure this doesn't happen again. So… pepper spray or taser?"

He was silent for what seemed like ages, so I continued.

"See, here's my problem. I started thinking taser was more effective, but the perp needs to be within arm's length. Which is less than ideal. Then there's the pepper spray. It can be used at a longer distance, not too long… like two erect penises further than arm's length. But those two erect penises could mean the difference between living a full and happy life, and being dry-docked by a guy named Butch whilst tied to a shady motel toilet. However you need aim for pepper spray, and I have yet to test mine. Also, I heard something about bear spray. Does that mean it's just for bears? Or is it a spray can of concentrated bear urine? Will it make the perp growl like one and flail like a constipated mongoose? I just need to know these things before I make an informed decision."

In lieu of an answer, the Hag walked up to the cage, grabbed the hand I had resting on the bar, yanked me painfully forward and used a syringe to shoot an orange liquid into the side of my neck. I couldn't help the whimper.

"How long does that take to work?" Thompson asked.

"The serum just negates the effects of the medication. We still need to force a change."

A what now?

"And how do you plan on doing that?"

The evil gleam in Hag's eye did nothing to comfort me. She disappeared behind the stairs and came back with a long metal rod with a two-pronged end.

"Not very long, I'm sure." Hag stepped casually toward me and thrust the pointy end of the rod into my cage, connecting with my arm.

The pain came instantly. My entire body seized up, contracting violently as wave after wave of the worst pain I've ever imagined crashed through me. It felt like an eternity, but was probably only a few seconds before something changed.

Yes, my body was still in an unfathomable amount of pain. I was fairly sure I peed myself. But something seemed to stir in the back of my mind. I was too distracted to register the animalistic growl that came out of my mouth against my will, or the presence that was taking over my body.

A flash of white hot pain rippled everywhere, and then it disappeared. I went down hard on my side. And once I was able to focus, I realized something wasn't right.

"Extraordinary." Mr. Thompson was eyeing me up like a fat man at an all-you-can-eat buffet.

"As promised, Mr. Thompson. One wolf shifter. As soon as you pay me she is yours."

… what?

I slid my gaze down to my arms. Instead of arms I found auburn-fur-covered wolf legs.

Well….shit.