For some reason, Mrs. Woodbine didn't let my growl scare her, or maybe she was too into seeing my blood pour out of me to notice. She made a high sound of satisfaction, staring down at me. “Now, this is what I want from you, witch. I want you to give me an address, no, a phone number. I'll take a phone number. You have to know her phone number, where to reach her.”
I was biting my own lip, fighting the urge to growl again. My body trembled from the adrenaline rush from her sudden attack on me. The need in me to do something was so strong it all built up inside like a pan of oil on an open flame about to ignite. I didn't know what it was that was coming on. But something— some raw, primal thing—was building up inside me, and the way it felt, I couldn't stop it if I wanted to.
“A phone num
