The Baby Shift- Arizona Read online

  The Baby Shift: Arizona

  Shifter Babies of America 8

  Becca Fanning

  Copyright © 2019 by Becca Fanning

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  1. Monica

  2. Will

  3. Monica

  4. Will

  5. Monica

  6. Will

  7. Will

  8. Monica

  9. Will

  10. Monica

  Also by Becca Fanning

  Monica

  Monica Grey was nearly packed by the time her boyfriend Will came home from work. His last day of work, to be precise, because two days later they were moving to Phoenix, Arizona where Will had been offered a job as a medical researcher for a team studying werewolves at University of Arizona.

  Monica was both excited and extremely nervous for the move. This would be her third big move in the last ten years. She and her sister, Amelia, grew up in L.A., but Monica moved to Chicago for undergrad and did her masters in Boston. She’d met Will while she was finishing up her graduate degree in Theology and he was finishing his residency at the university hospital.

  It hadn’t exactly been love at first sight. Monica was a firm believer in astrology and the power of the zodiac to predict the future, and Will was all wrong for her. She was a Taurus, which meant she needed to be with a Cancer or perhaps a Capricorn, someone calm and gentle who wouldn’t disrupt her energy, but Will, a Sagittarius, was the exact opposite of that. He was adventurous and loved taking risks, the antithesis of what Monica needed or wanted, which was why she was so confused when she found herself in bed with him twelve hours after meeting him at the hospital coffee shop, where she’d gone to buy chocolates for a professor who was going through chemotherapy.

  It was the best sex of her life, though, and she couldn’t discount the insane physical connection she and Will had. And at first, their connection was physical. She called him for sex and nothing else, but gradually sex turned into sex and dinner, then sex and dinner and breakfast, then sex, dinner breakfast and a movie, and suddenly, they were dating. Two years later, Monica was hopelessly in love with Will, though she hoped that this was their last move for a while. She’d switched apartments three times since moving to Boston, and it was getting harder and harder to pack up all her crystals, tarot cards and essential oils, let alone her three yoga mats and assorted blocks.

  “Mon? I’m back, and I brought takeout!” Will called from the entry hallway to Monica’s one bedroom apartment. The lease on Will’s place had expired three days ago, so he’d temporarily moved in with her leading up to their big move. It was a good trial run for their future cohabitation, but already Monica was feeling a bit overwhelmed. She knew they were moving soon and things were a bit crazy, but Will was never home. He seemed to go to work the moment she got home from the yoga studio and not return until she’d left for her next shift. She hoped his new job, and the more stable hours his new employers had promised, would allow them more time to be together. She felt like they hadn’t had a real talk in weeks.

  Monica abandoned the pile of clothes she was trying to neatly roll and pack into a suitcase and went to meet him, giving him a tender kiss on the lips before stepping back to get the first good look of him she’d had in two days. Will had sandy blonde hair, a lean build and a constant smile on his face. He’d just come off a fifteen-hour shift, though, so his smile was a bit wan, his hair a bit messy, and his outfit disheveled and reeking of rubbing alcohol and antiseptic, two of Monica’s least favorite smells.

  “My hero! I packed all the kitchen stuff this morning, so all I’ve had to eat is a turmeric smoothie and a raw pizza from that café across the street all day. I’m starving.”

  Will wrinkled his nose at the mention of the café. Monica had dragged him there twice in the year she’d lived across from it, and each time he’d moaned and groaned about the lack of actual sustenance. “Raw pizza is not a food, it’s a vegetable,” were the exact words he used when his lunch had come that first day. They’d had to go out for veggie burgers and fries afterward to keep Will from getting hangry.

  Will handed Monica the bag of takeout while he took off his shoes, hung up his jacket and dumped his backpack on the floor. While he went into their bedroom to change, Monica went to the living room and set the food up on the coffee table. Will had also grabbed a kombucha for her and a beer for himself on his way home, and she cracked both open and poured them into tall glasses, the bubbles nearly fizzing over as Will came into the room and sat down next to her.

  He kissed her on the lips, a quick peck, before tucking into his chicken pad thai. Will was a devoted omnivore while Monica was a militant vegan, but somehow, they made it work, mostly because Will was usually too tired when he came over for lunch or dinner after work to complain about the lack of meat in their meals.

  After dinner, Will went to the gym and Monica did yoga, following a routine she’d devised back when she’d first moved to Boston after finishing her yoga teacher certification in Chicago. She’d secured a job at a yoga studio in Phoenix teaching workshops and Tuesday night pre-natal yoga classes, but she was worried about teaching bow pose. It was her Achilles’ heel, the one pose she had yet to master, and she’d been doing special shoulder-focused workouts for the last few months to help her build up to it. She was nearly there, able to hold it for a good five seconds before collapsing into a lump on the floor.

  Will came home while Monica was in the middle of the pose. All she could see of him were his hairy legs and bright orange running shoes as he walked over to her, kneeling down until his face was level with hers. “Mon, I just got a call. We need to move tomorrow.”

  Will

  Will Fibson couldn’t help but feel bad as he drove the rental car on 95S. Monica was in the seat beside him, sitting cross-legged with her hot pink headphones clamped on her ears to block out road noise. He assumed she was meditating, but for all he knew she might not be listening to anything; the headphones might be there just to block him out.

  Monica had been less than pleased when Will had rushed home the night before to tell her they had five hours to finish packing, book a flight and then find a rental car to get them from the airport to their new house in Phoenix. “But I don’t understand why the university can’t wait another two days. What’s the rush?” was her response when Will explained that he’d received a call on his run from his new supervisor in Phoenix saying they needed him at the research center as soon as possible.

  “They didn’t really explain, they just said it was urgent and I was needed immediately. But they offered to pay for the moving costs and ship the rest of our stuff out, plus they’ve made sure our new house is ready for when we arrive, so at least you can get settled in right away, and I’ll try to be home from work as soon as I can be to help you unpack.”

  Twelve hours later, they were parked outside their new house. They’d rented it furnished, having found a nice two-bedroom house with wooden accents, comfortable furniture and a spare room they could use as an office. Will’s supervisors had recommended they use the university housing website to find a place, and this one had popped up immediately, with rent well within their price range and a beautiful backyard Monica could easily picture doing yoga in. She was currently saging the house, cleansing it of the bad energy of its past owners, while Will called a cab to take him to the university. He normally biked to work, and had planned on doing the same thing in
Phoenix, but their slap-dash move meant he hadn’t been able to bring his bike with them. Until the university shipped it to the new house, he was reliant on public transportation and Uber, and he was so anxious to get to work that he decided to go with a taxi to get him there as fast as possible.

  “I should be home in a few hours, okay? And then we can get some food and talk and figure out how to deal with all this. I love you, Monica. I’m sorry this is all a bit harried, but I promise we’ll celebrate the move properly when I get home. Will you leave at least some of the unpacking to me?” he asked, kissing her on the cheek as he unlocked the door. He wished he could do more, could kiss her and touch her and show her with his body just how sorry he was, but time was of the essence.

  Monica scowled at him, telling him that she needed to unpack to keep her from having a total meltdown. Will left her on their doorstep with her arms crossed, shooting daggers at him as he climbed into the cab.

  Will was slightly anxious as the cab wound around the crowded streets of Phoenix toward the university. It was early afternoon, but he had a sinking feeling he’d be at work until late in the evening. His boss had sounded extremely anxious on the phone the day before, and Will wasn’t looking forward to his first shift. This job was supposed to be less stressful and more stable than his job as a consultant at Boston University Teaching Hospital, but it was shaping up to be even worse. The cab pulled up to the main research center, and Will’s new colleagues all stood outside, arms crossed, eyeing him wearily as the cab pulled up to the curb.

  As soon as he opened the door, they were pulling him by the arms, practically dragging him into the research center. What the hell was going on, he thought to himself as a man blindfolded him and suddenly, everything went dark.

  Monica

  Monica watched Will’s cab wind down their street until it was out of view, then she shut the door firmly and turned to her to-do list. She was a nester, always had been, and couldn’t rest until wherever she was living was unpacked and decorated.

  The first thing she did was to find the wireless router that had been installed in the house by the previous tenants. They’d transferred the Internet bills to Monica’s account to save the hassle of calling the installation company once she and Will moved in, so it was easy for her to go online and start a grocery order to be dropped off later that day. She’d taken most of her spices with her in a suitcase on the plane, but the house was lacking in every other essential, so she spent an hour picking out organic flours, sugar, lentils and tofu, plus some meaty stuff for Will. By the end, she’d ordered enough food to last them for the next week.

  With the grocery order done, she then set to unpacking the bedding and her and Will’s clothes. The master bedroom was on the first level of the house in the back and faced the small garden. It was light and roomy and looked sparkling clean, but as Monica dressed the bed and went to start hanging clothes in the closet, she found a long, talon-like nail on the floor near the dresser across from the bed. It looked like it had come from some sort of wild animal, but surely wild animals didn’t frequent residential areas like the one they were in?

  Monica found more talons in each room in the house, along with the occasional tuft of greyish-brown, coarse hair. Stated in their housing contract had been a thorough clean of the house prior to their arrival, courtesy of the university landlords, so Monica was confused by the scattered debris, and a little frustrated. It meant she had to find the vacuum cleaner and suck up all the hair and nails before finishing unpacking, which took her well into the late hours of the evening, even though they’d only been able to bring four suitcases between them on the plane. But everything had to be perfect. It had to look live-in, homey, for Monica to be able to rest that night.

  Will texted her right before bed to let her know he’d be coming in sometime around 3, but Monica couldn’t wait up for him. She was far too exhausted. She’d finally finished unpacking, storing the suitcases and moving boxes in a closet near the living room, and after putting away all the food that had been delivered, she felt like she was about to fall asleep standing up. She could talk to Will in the morning. Knowing she was going to bed with an unpacked house full of her and Will’s favorite things took the edge of the anger she’d been feeling this morning during their drive, and she hoped that the following morning, they could go back to normal. She’d cook Will his favorite buckwheat pancakes with agave syrup, they’d snuggle up in bed, have slow, gentle sex, and all would be well.

  Will

  Will came home the next morning feeling strange. He was woozy and dizzy, and frequently felt like he was about to fall over, despite being seated in a cab. His appetite was also raging. He couldn’t remember if he’d eaten dinner, and he was ravenous, sincerely hoping that Monica had cooked something and left a portion for him in the fridge, or had at least ordered groceries so he could make himself a hearty breakfast when he got in.

  It was just after 8:00am when he walked through the door to their new house. The living room had been filled with the knickknacks Monica had stashed in her suitcase, insisting, despite Will’s concern, that they were “essential” to the rushed move. Will was glad she’d packed them. The little figurines and clocks and incense diffusers made the room look more like a home, like their home. The couch looked cozy, with large throw blankets cast all over it, and Will couldn’t wait to cuddle up on it with Monica in his arms. But first, he needed food.

  Walking into the kitchen, Will opened the fridge and was met with blissfully cold air, a soothing balm to the frustrated heat he’d been feeling since the previous evening. The fridge was filled with food, and Will quietly took out a packet of turkey bacon, some eggs, a sesame seed bagel and a stick of grass-fed butter. He found a frying pan under the sink, and quickly set to work making himself breakfast, which he devoured in less than five minutes.

  Will was exhausted by the time he finished eating. It had been a long, long night of work, and his memory of the night was jumbled thanks to all the activity, but what he knew for sure was that he needed rest, so he crept to the master bedroom, stripped, and snuggled in behind Monica, who was still sleeping soundly.

  Three hours later, they both woke up. The sun was high in the sky, filling the room with sunlight. “Morning, Mon,” Will whispered as he drew Monica further into the embrace of his arms. She felt good, her skin cool against the fire that seemed to be raging inside his limbs, making him hotter with every minute. He’d known that Phoenix would be warm this time of year, but Will figured after a childhood spent in the desert of New Mexico, he would be used to the heat. Apparently not.

  Will got up and walked over to the thermostat to see if he could turn the air conditioning up. He desperately needed more sleep, but there was no way he’d be able to get comfortable if he was this warm. But when he went to open the panel on the screen, he read the numbers 6-0. 60 degrees? Surely it couldn’t be that cool. There was no way he’d be sweating this much if it was that cold in the house.

  “Hey Mon, are you warm?” Will asked, though he already suspected that he knew the answer from the way that Monica had wrapped herself in the duvet as soon as Will had vacated the bed.

  “Not since you got up, no. I’m freezing, actually. Could you turn the temperature up a bit?” she asked from beneath the covers.

  “Could I just crawl back in and warm you up instead? I’m boiling.” As Will crawled back under the covers, Monica placed her palm on Will’s forehead. “Oh my God, Will! You’re burning up!”

  Will looked down at her and noticed her peering at him strangely. “You look a bit odd. Are you coming down with something? You’re all clammy and grey.”

  Now that she mentioned it, Will was feeling a bit weird. He wasn’t sure what was wrong, but he definitely felt overly warm, and sweaty, and a bit nauseous. “Maybe. Eric, my new boss, said I don’t have to come in until 5:00 this evening, so I’ll just rest until then.”

  Will wasn’t exactly looking forward to his next shift, if he was being honest w
ith himself. His new work environment was even more stressful than the last, and he couldn’t keep doing night shifts with no warning. At least at the hospital, he’d known weeks in advance when he’d be working nights so he could prepare. Here, they seemed to expect him to work whenever they needed him. Maybe moving to Phoenix hadn’t been such a good idea after all, Will thought to himself as he once again drifted back to sleep.

  Monica

  When Monica checked Will’s forehead a few hours later, he was still burning up. His skin felt like it was on fire. What was wrong with him? He was also starting to look even more ashen. This wasn’t something a turmeric shot and some garlic broth, Monica’s normal go-to remedy for any and all illnesses, were going to fix.

  When 3:00 came and Monica couldn’t rouse Will from bed, she took matters into her own hands. She took his phone from where it sat next to him on the bedside table and searched through the contacts for the number of his new boss, then hit the call button.

  “Hello?” a deep, masculine voice answered.

  “Hi there. This is Monica Grey. I’m Will Fibson’s girlfriend, and I’m afraid I don’t think Will can come in this evening for his shift. He’s been in bed all day and I think he’s come down with something.”

  Monica was expecting Eric to be at least somewhat sympathetic—after all, he’d also forced them both to uproot their lives a full two days earlier than planned, with no real explanation, the stress of which had probably made Will sick—but instead, Eric laughed. “Oh yes, it is that time of the month for him. We gave him some medication yesterday to stave off the shift, but he will probably feel funny for most of the experiment. I promise the effects will wear off eventually, Miss Grey. I assure you that there’s no need to worry.”