Free Moon Sworn by Keri Arthur

desperate to avoid. I hated the taste of blood, even when it came after the thrill of chasing and catching rabbits.
    If Jack was right, it seemed I was going to avoid the whole blood-taking thing—but at what cost?
    What exactly was that damn drug turning me into?
    “Given our success rate at predicting where these changes will go, I think it’ll be safer if we upped the monitoring.”
    And wasn’t that what I wanted to hear. The tests might not bother me as much as they used to, but there were some months where I could sympathize with pin cushions. “Are we talking weekly?”
    “At least.”
    Crap. “It’s not going to alter anything, Jack. It’s not going to help.”
    “It’s better that we track the changes rather than find out the hard way, Riley.”
    I guess so.
    “Okay,” he added, “we have the address. We’ll send it through to your onboard.”
    Which I was nowhere near. And suddenly part of me didn’t want to go anywhere near it. I drew in a shaky breath and blew it out slowly. It didn’t help calm the nerves or the aching desire to just flee. “I’ll head there now, then go for lunch.”
    “Keep the com-link on, Riley.”
    He hung up. I shoved the phone into my pocket, then pushed to my feet. The smell of blood stung the air, metallic and cloying. I briefly wondered if that smell would ever call to me. Just because my DNA seemed to be veering away from that aspect of vampirism didn’t mean it couldn’t veer back.
    I turned resolutely on my heel and walked away. I couldn’t change what was happening to me, and I wasn’t about to spend time dwelling on it. I had enough troubles on my plate; I didn’t need anything extra. I t didn’t take me long to fly back to my car, but three shape-shifts into seagull form in as many hours had totally shredded my top. I grabbed a T-shirt out of the trunk and dragged that on before jumping into the car and driving over to the address Jack had sent me.
    It turned out to be a less-than-impressive-looking concrete apartment building in the back streets of St. Kilda. I found a parking spot several buildings down, then climbed out of my car and strolled back slowly. The apartment that was linked to the phone was situated on the fourth floor, which in this case was the top floor. I studied the windows but couldn’t pick which one was our target. They all had the same limp-hanging curtains, the only difference being the color. Some were blue, some were pink. All were sun-faded and somewhat grimy looking.
    The building didn’t appear to have any sort of security system installed up front—which, given the somewhat rundown appearance of the place, wasn’t really surprising. The door was painted a gay red, but the paint was peeling and the wood pockmarked with holes. The air coming out of the place was a rich mix of sweaty humanity, cheap perfume, and sex.
    Which suggested it was probably a brothel. And while brothels had been legal for more than a few years, I wasn’t sure they were supposed to be situated in this section of St. Kilda. As a general rule, they had to be away from main living areas, but it wasn’t unknown for councilors to be bribed to look the other way.
    I glanced through the doorway as I walked by and saw a rather large and muscular-looking guard sitting in the hallway. Which maybe explained why there was no outside security, but it still seemed like overkill. This area was well policed, and, as far as I knew, there hadn’t been any trouble here for months.
    But maybe he wasn’t just here to guard the ladies. Maybe he was also a sentinel for the room upstairs. The one that held a rare land line.
    I kept walking until I’d gotten around the corner, then once again shifted shape, hoping like hell the T-shirt held up better than the blouse. I was running out of spare clothes.
    I flew up to the rooftop and landed on the filthy tiles. I didn’t immediately change back to human form, but instead strutted around like any regular gull as I checked