Acquainted ⇒ Brett Talbot

IV. Transitioning

"I'm so sorry again for accusing you of groping these mosquito bites."

This is about the fifth time I've apologised since we left the bathroom, got in Brett's Range Rover and started the drive to his alpha's house.

He side eyes me. We're at a stop light that doesn't seem to be moving again any time soon. "Don't say that. They're an alright size."

I knit my eyebrows together. "Did you just compliment my boobs?"

If I'm being completely honest, I'm honoured that Brett has even taken the time to look at my boobs, let alone compliment them.

He nods. "They're boobs. Hard not to compliment them."

I shake my head with a grin stretching across my face. "You are such a fuckboy."

"Don't act like you don't love it," he says.

"You are actually ridiculous," I mutter. "I mean, objectifying women like that. Disgusting."

"The walking corpse has a mouth on her," he snipes.

I glare at him. "I hate you so much."

The thick traffic soon flows into a free run again. The drive to Brett's alpha's home shouldn't have really been all that long, but thanks to the traffic it had taken at least half an hour. I realise that I hate school uniform with a burning passion by the time we're at Satomi's house. My sweater vest is starting to make my skin itch and my collar and tie are just begging to be taken off.

Initially, I had liked the idea of school uniform. No one judging you for what you're wearing, having something set out for you and also looking incredibly smart. This is one of the "be careful what you wish for" moments. In reality, school uniforms were made by the devil himself.

As I walk in with my finger stuck between my collar and neck for some air, Satomi is already looking like she means business.

If I had to describe Satomi's appearance in one word it'd be "intimidating". The woman has thick black hair pulled into a knot at the nape of her neck, high cheekbones and flawless skin considering how mature her features look. She looks to be around forty, but something tells me she had seen much more of the world than half a century.

"Please sit," she says. Brett had said he'd call her before to let her know we're coming. She doesn't seem surprised by my visit, but she does seem hesitant to help. I can tell that she'd learned not to trust anyone a while ago.

She presses her lips into a firm line and studies me. "A vampire, you say?" She's speaking to Brett, but doesn't take her eyes off me.

"Yes, Satomi," Brett says. It's strange hearing him sound so respectful. "Her eyes were black and she had fangs. There was no heartbeat."

Satomi doesn't seem to notice when I flinch as she shoots her hand out and lays it on my chest. "You're right," she says. "The girl is dead."

He folds his arms over his broad chest. "What about the blood? What about being burned from the sun?"

Satomi shakes her head. "She's transitioning now. Soon she won't be able to walk in sunlight. She'll get cravings soon as well. It varies on everyone, but it should take a few weeks."

I raise my eyebrows. "Blood? Thanks but no thanks. Once I got punched in the jaw and tasted nothing but blood for days. It was one of the worst experiences of my life."

Satomi laughs coldly. "Soon blood will be one of the only things you drink."

I lean over the table intently. "Do I have to kill people?"