I still couldn't believe Selene had told me to bring the corpse. Carrying a dead vampire slung over my shoulder wasn't how I imagined my night would go.
Now that I had more time to look at her, Selene looked like she was in her early thirties. Long brown hair, piercing green eyes, sundress with a denim jacket over it. But something about her presence made me feel she was older. Much older.
We walked in silence to her place.
To my surprise, Selene lived in what looked like a clinic. The waiting room, the sterile halls, the faint smell of antiseptic—it was all normal. Until she led me into the doctor's office, where a hidden door behind a bookshelf slid open.
Behind it was… well, exactly what you'd expect a witch's lair to look like. Shelves lined with jars, old tomes stacked high, strange herbs hanging to dry. A metal table sat in the center of the room.
"Put it there," Selene instructed, nodding at the table.
I laid the vampire's body down. She pulled on gloves and began examining it with clinical precision.
"This one was starved," she explained, her voice calm, almost detached.
"Starved? You mean… hungry?" I asked.
Selene shook her head. "Not just hungry. Someone deliberately withheld blood for days—weeks, maybe. A new turn, probably eighteen, maybe twenty years old. They pushed him past the edge. Released him here, half-mad."
I frowned. "So if he wasn't starving, he'd be stronger?"
"Not necessarily stronger," she corrected, "but more disciplined. More careful. A fed vampire wouldn't have attacked so blindly. He'd have played with you first."
That sent a chill down my spine.
She finished what I could only describe as a macabre autopsy and peeled off her gloves. I took the chance to ask the question gnawing at me.
"What do you know about werewolves?"
Selene smirked, as if she'd been waiting for me to ask. "Not everything. But more than you do."
"Confident, aren't you?"
"I have reason to be." She tilted her head, studying me. "Tell me, Daniel—your sharp instincts. Were those your gift?"
"My what?"
"Your extra ability. Beyond the usual—strength, speed, durability. Every werewolf has one."
I shook my head. "No. I had that before. It's the only reason I survived the thing that turned me."
"Interesting." Her eyes gleamed. "Then it means yours hasn't revealed itself yet. Every werewolf has something different. It could be anything—telepathy, hardened skin, mind-reading…"
I leaned back, uneasy. "So how do I find out what mine is?"
She smiled in a way that didn't make me feel better. "I know a way. But you'll have to trust me."
"Why?"
"Because it involves drinking something most people wouldn't even hold their nose near."
I sighed. "Of course it does."
She moved to a shelf and returned with a steaming mug. "Drink this."
The liquid was clear, but the smell… The smell was wrong.
"Dubious was an understatement," I muttered, pinching my nose.
Selene's lips curved. "If it were easy, anyone could do it."
I braced myself and downed the mug. The taste hit me like rotten meat left out in the sun.
"Oh, that's rancid," I choked, gagging.
Selene only watched.
Then it began. My body burned from the inside, heat rolling through me until sweat dripped down my back. My pulse thundered. Something inside me… unlocked.
Focus, I told myself. I tried moving objects with my mind. Nothing. Tried listening for thoughts. Nothing.
Hours passed. I nearly gave up—until I caught my reflection in the glass cabinet across the room.
It wasn't my face staring back.
It was someone else's.
I stumbled to the mirror, heart hammering. My features shifted again, rippling like water. My jawline thinned, my nose changed, even my voice when I gasped came out higher. Female.
I willed it again and my face shifted into an older man's. My own voice deepened to match.
Selene's eyes widened slightly, then narrowed with interest. "Shapeshifting. Rare. Useful."
I stared at my hands—now rougher, broader than they should be. "I can look like anyone…"
"Not just look," she corrected. "Sound like them, too. You'll learn to refine it with practice."
I felt a surge of exhilaration… just before the world spun around me. My legs buckled, and I nearly collapsed.
Selene caught me by the arm and guided me toward a couch. "Easy. The potion forces your body to burn through enormous energy to activate the gift. Rest, Daniel. You'll recover."
I sank onto the couch, every muscle trembling. My eyelids drooped. The last thing I saw before sleep claimed me was Selene pulling a blanket over me, her expression unreadable.