Waking Up Were by Celia Kyle

Chapter One
     
    Brenna’s best friend, Dr. Harper Morray, had jumped off the deep end. No, she didn’t just jump. She’d sailed right over it and crashed amongst the jagged rocks of sanity. All those late nights and working twenty-four hours straight had finally broken her mind. Really. Brenna wasn’t lying.
    “Wait. What? What’s a were ?” Brenna’s tone leaned toward interested, yet neutral. She didn’t want to lead her friend on, but also didn’t want to outright call her a liar. Not when it seemed she was so close to a psychotic break.
    “Not what, who . And that’s you.” Harper looked so cute in her dementia. Like a little stethoscope-wielding pixie. Brenna wondered if she should call Harper’s husband before, or after, she called the loony-bin.
    “ Were , what?” she tried again, gauging the extent of her friend’s delusion.
    “Wolf.” Harper gave a brisk nod, as if that would settle things.
    Not so much.
    “Huh? You’re losing me. Back up, sweetie. Little words, and say ’em real slow. Ten margaritas makes my brain a little fuzzy.” She gave her a nice, serene smile. One that said Brenna thought she was bat shit crazy, but still loved her to bits. “Now, how did you decide I’m a were … a werewolf?” Brenna raised her eyebrows, humoring Harper. Isn’t that what people did for crazy freaks? Humor them?
    That earned her an eye roll from Harper. “Keith was so not worth getting drunk over. He was an ass.”
    Yeah, but he was Brenna’s ass. For two years, his ass belonged to her. Or hers belonged to him. Whatever. “We had a history, Harps, and I deserved a drink or two.”
    “Uh-huh.” Her friend gave her a small, sympathetic smile. “He wasn’t worth last night’s drink napkins and if I’d known what you were going through, you know I would have been there for you.”
    “I know.” She wasn’t gonna tell Harper she was right about Keith. He really wasn’t worth last night’s drink napkins. Especially since she owned the house they’d shared and he hadn’t been working for the last six months. Now she knew why. Apparently keeping his dick hard and inside the teller at the bank down the street was really tiring. “But, aside from this dog bite, I’m fine. A bite, by the way, you’re supposed to be treating.”
    Harper’s pitying grin turned into an excited smile again. Damn, here came the delusions again. “I’m getting there. Let’s back up to the were thing. That’s the important part.”
    Brenna did not think it was important. At all.
    Harper did not seem to care what Brenna thought and continued. “You were human.” She raised her left hand. “And now you are a werewolf.” She raised her right. Then Harper’s gaze swung back and forth between them. “Human. Now you’re a were . Oh! Once human.” She lifted her left again, shaking it. “Now you’re a kick-ass were. Go team furry!” Harper then raised her right hand high, fingers wide as if hunting for a high-five.
    So not happening.
    Coming to her best friend’s veterinary practice had seemed like a good idea when she’d woken with a nasty bite on her arm and a hangover to end all hangovers. Her insurance had a ginormous deductible, so the ER was out. Harper treated her for free. Score!
    But now that she was in an exam room with Harper, the woman smiling wide and her face flushed with excitement over some were thing, Brenna realized she’d made a mistake. Or rather, the state’s veterinary medical board had made a mistake by licensing the woman.
    Trapped in the small room, nothing more than a solid steel table separating her from Dr. Crazyton, Brenna sorted through her options. She could perform an awesome ninja flip move and fly over her friend. Or one of those really cool floor-roll things where she’d conveniently spin out of reach. There was also straight-up hand-to-hand combat as she fought through a war zone. Gauze would go flying to the left, cotton balls to the right, and Harper would get a