Jessica Sims - Wanted - Wild Thing

Mine just happened to be scarier than most: I was a changeling.

At least that’s what the old fortune-teller had told me. I’d had my first experience with my monster shortly after getting my first period. I was fourteen, and I’d made out with a guy on the docks at summer camp. He’d blushed and gotten a boner; I’d grown scales and a tail. My date had chalked up his horrific monster visions to some bad mushrooms. Me? I’d been terrified, so I’d done what any logical fourteen-year-old would have done—I’d stolen my mother’s wallet and taken a bus across town to consult a fortune-teller and get some answers.

It turned out that was the best thing for me. The moment I’d met the tall, willowy fortune-teller, I’d known she was different from other humans. She’d had a soft radiance that I hadn’t been able to identify then. I now knew what it meant—she’d had fae blood.

The fortune-teller told me as much a few minutes into our conversation. She wasn’t entirely human, her fae ancestry coming from her great-grandmother. Her great-grandmother had schooled her in the occult arts, teaching her everything she’d needed to know about the supernatural. Great-grandma had married a satyr, she’d told me, and I’d scoffed. The woman was clearly nuts.

Now, ten years later, I worked at a dating agency for the supernatural and had set up more than one lonely satyr on a date. Life was funny that way.

Anyway, the fortune-teller had had all the answers. She’d told me I was a changeling. That back in the days when the fae folk mingled more openly with humans, the fae would steal a human child and leave a changeling in its place for the parents to raise.

I’d heard the fairy tales, but I’d always thought that changelings were scary, legendary things. I’d been a cute blond teenager who’d happened to look thoroughly human until someone touched me.

The fortune-teller had explained that, too: my natural guard was down in those moments, and the “glamour” that had been cast on me faded. By the time I hit twenty-five, if I remained a virgin, the glamour that made me look human would be unable to overcome my beast side, and I’d be a monster forever.

At fourteen years old, I’d been shattered. Not only were my parents not my real parents but I was also a monster of some kind and would be cursed forever if I didn’t beat the deadline?

The fortune-teller had patted my hand and given me a ray of hope. According to her great-grandmother, every changeling had a perfect match in the world. He’d be The One for me, my True Love. If I found that man, I’d be able to touch him without triggering my monsterlike changeling side. Then I could break the curse, securing the glamour so I remained human, not scaly-clawed-bony-gargoyle-ish. I couldn’t even say what my monster form was; it just seemed like a mix of everything hideous.

So I had to find my perfect mate. And like the fairy tale where the girl kissed a lot of frogs? I had to touch a lot of men. I flirted freely, just a happy, cheerful, young woman. When I got the nerve up, I’d touch a guy. Just to see.

It triggered my monster every time. I’d become a master at escaping before people noticed. I’d feign food poisoning and hide in a bathroom until my creature side faded. I’d bail on a date through the back door—I did that a lot—and transform in the dark parking lot, where no one could see me. My changeling side never lasted long. Already, I could feel my fangs throbbing, a sign that they were about to slide back into my gums. I extended a hand, watching the hint of scales on my skin disappear, my curved, clawed fingers returning to their regular length, my pink-tipped manicure still flawless.

This guy hadn’t been The One, but that didn’t mean the right guy wasn’t out there. I’d keep looking for the answer to my problem, and I’d find it. I wasn’t about to let a little monster side slow me down.

The fact that my twenty-fifth birthday was less than a month away? I didn’t dwell on that.

I worked at a dating agency for the supernatural, after all. Midnight Liaisons catered to vampires, shifters, monsters, and everything else that went bump in the night and wanted a mate. If there was a perfect, magical man who would break my curse, and if he was out there for me, I’d be able to find him through connections at work.

I just had to keep on kissing my frogs until then.

Not everyone was cut out for the night shift at a supernatural dating agency. You had to be aware of things like full moons, species-specific allergies, late-night vampiric booty calls, and the ability to sound alert while answering the phone at two in the morning. It was a strange job, but I loved it. Our clients were weird, and I embraced weird. Weird was fun. Weird was interesting.

Weird, however, was not for everyone.

I eyed the empty desk across from me as I prepped my third cup of coffee, readying to start a long evening at work. And I sighed with loneliness. “I sure do miss Marie.”

Sara made a face. Her mate, Ramsey, was waiting for her, and she slipped her hand into his huge mitt. As they headed for the door, she said, “Don’t let Savannah hear you say that. It’ll hurt her feelings, and you know how easily pregnant women cry.”

“I know. I just . . . miss Marie.”

Marie Bellavance was my bestie. We’d been thick as thieves ever since we’d started working at Midnight Liaisons. If either of us thought it was strange that two humans were running the late-night shift at a company catering to an exclusive, secret clientele that hid the fact that they were supernatural, we didn’t comment on it. We liked getting paid, after all. And Marie was a hoot. She was acerbic, witty, wry, and always had interesting observations.

She’d been fired last month for dating vampires, but she’d had serious reasons for wanting to date the fanged persuasion. She’d been dying from an extremely rare, fatal disease, and the only way Marie could see to get around it was to be turned undead. Luckily, those issues had been solved by Josh Russell, a big, hunky were-cougar who’d saved her from her disease and had turned her into a nice, healthy were-cougar. Now Marie was working for Beau Russell, the leader of the Paranormal Alliance.

Savannah Russell, Beau’s cousin, had taken Marie’s place on the night shift. She was sweet and quiet, nothing like my witty, outspoken Marie. I gestured at Marie’s former desk. “Speaking of, is Savannah okay?”

“She’s got the barfs again,” Sara told me. “Called and said she’d be in late.”

I nodded and tossed another spoonful of sugar into my coffee. “I’ll hold down the fort.”

“You sure? I can stay awhile if things are too busy.”

I made a shooing motion, then picked up my coffee. “I’ll be fine. You two lovebirds go have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” I gave them an outrageous wink.

Sara giggled, and her mate—a big, burly were-bear—flushed bright red. So adorable. With a wave, they headed out.

I was alone.

Alone was boring, and it made for a long night, especially when the phones were quiet. And it wasn’t a full moon, or a Friday night, or anything else that would cause the agency to be busy, which meant I was alone with my thoughts.

I hated being alone with my thoughts.

I decided to text Marie. What’s up, chica?

It took a moment for her to respond.

Just left work. Beau and the wolf packs are still meeting all the time. Such a mess! Josh is taking me out to dinner tonight to make up for it, though.

Maybe you’ll get lucky , I teased.

I’ll be mad if I don’t! She punctuated it with a smiley face, then added, Gotta run. TTYL.