//Rabid// Part 2

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Spirit-jumping from Mount Everest didn't kill me, but it left behind a massive headache. 

I came to, freezing wetness dripping down my face as the world spun in a kaleidoscope of shapes and colors. My stomach rolled. Dear Jesus, don't let me puke...

"Good morning, Naomi."

"Mrs. T." I squinted up at her water-blurred figure, one eye locked tight against the pounding in my skull. "Please tell me I didn't miss breakfast."

"You've missed everything." She switched her glass pitcher to the other hand. It was still half-full of ice-water. "I won't ask why you're lying in the middle of the carpet. I'm sure it's for a ridiculous reason."

"Let's just say, I had a meeting of the minds and I won. I think." I got to my feet with a groan. This must be what a hangover feels like. Poor Humans and their limited capacities. How do they survive? "Would you mind standing still?"

"I'm not moving."

I grabbed the bedpost, taking an unceremonious seat on the mattress. "What's the time?"

"Noon, you lazy thing." She marched across the room, throwing back the curtains. 

I shied from the sun like a Vampire, screwing my eyes against the blinding light--and then I remembered. Damn Earth Smoke! "Shoot! I'm supposed to meet Addy! She's trying to convince me to help out with the cotillion, and I still don't have an excuse! All I can come up with is 'I'm allergic to dancing'!"

I hated my cotillion. My father had died the year before, so I ended up dancing with Charles. The whole time, it was like a stranger was wedged between us-we couldn't even make eye contact. I wasn't eager to relive any part of that experience.

"I'm sure cotillion is the least of your problems." Mrs. Trentley lowered her voice. Instantly, I was alarmed. "I caught Ethan Knight sneaking out at six a.m..." I scoffed, rolling my eyes like she was a liar. "Not a minute later, your grandfather came rushing into the foyer-like the damn thing was on fire. He was in such a rush he didn't mind his tongue. He was on the phone and I heard every word..."

It was sheer luck Mrs. Trentley overheard anything at all. For Supernaturals with advanced hearing, sound-proof walls were imperative. My grandfather went to great lengths to prevent eavesdropping within the manor. He must have been very upset indeed to speak so freely before Mrs. Trentley, whose presence he only tolerated because his pesky son had her job cemented in his will.

As her story continued, Mrs. Trentley's stern features grew ever more grim. "From what I gathered, there were attacks overnight, and he was responding. I've never seen the  man so... pale. I don't know what's happening in your world, Naomi, but you must be careful." She placed her hand on my arm, a rare gesture that would have offered more comfort if I hadn't needed it so much. "I'm not telling you this so you can run straight to the danger, mind you. I'm telling you so you can avoid it."

"Is that what my father would've done?"

The silence was heavy with the truth. 

Before he was dragged into the woods to be torn apart by angry rogues, my father stood his ground and fought. Maybe he could've avoided his fate by running, but wasn't that for cowards? Or was Luke wrong about me? I rose to my feet, unsteady, but resolved. "The Wolves view my father as a hero. Even the Vampires have respect for him. I see it now--I'll never earn that kind of acceptance sitting in the shadows."

"Oh, you dear, sweet girl. The darkness is the best place to be. One sees all from the shadows..."

Time would tell.

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