When I open my eyes, I wake to find myself in a place so devoid of light, it’s as if my eyes were still closed.
There is no way for me to gauge what time it is, let alone.
All I know is that I feel like I’m going to throw up because my stomach is churning like crazy, which means the woman—the shifter—hit me with tranquilizer darts.
Slowly, I sit up, trying not to move too quickly for fear of throwing up over myself, which is when something small and furry rubs up against my leg and its tail lashes against me.
With a sharp indrawn scream, I yank my foot away, and the thing—I’m trying desperately not to think it’s a rat—scurries away. And as if it and all its other buddies were just waiting for me to wake up, I hear them scurrying around, making me shudder in disgust.
I’m in a basement,
