Becca was asleep as I slipped out of the room and tip-toed downstairs to the hallway. Jen’s dad was sitting in the living room armchair, a cloud of foul smoke suffusing the air as he slurped on the cheapest cider and watched TV.

I considered, just for a moment, ending his life. It would be a simple thing to do and likely a benefit to the world. But then I would need to deal with Becca and that wasn’t worth the hassle. Besides, if all went well I would be out of this body in a few days anyway.

Still wearing the clothes I’d put on that morning, I pulled on my coat and headed out, closing the door silently behind me.

The air was crisp and cool, the slightest of chills to the air as the moon was obscured by dark clouds that promised rain. I pulled the coat a little tighter around myself and set off walking at a brisk pace.

I needed the space to breathe to feel like myself again. Being stuck in this new body was claustrophobic and while I could distract myself for a while, sometimes I would find myself suddenly and acutely aware of the difference to my own and it sent me reeling.

My control would slip and the body’s muscle memory would take over, natural movements it had performed a thousand thousand times when Jen wore it, and I would catch myself, staring in horrified surprise at gestures and movements that were so very not my own.

I was self-aware enough to know that it could be my masculinity that was rebelling against the overwhelming femininity of the body I wore. But I suspected not. Rather it was the slow slipping of my mind as it bent and shaped itself to fit this new form.

The mind matches the body. I had read that once before, in some ancient tome that spoke of shapeshifters and skinwalkers. How they were perfectly at ease in either male or female form because their minds were malleable, able to conform to whatever shape their body took and be at ease.

But they expected that. I did not.

I shivered and wrapped my arms a little tighter around my body, hugging myself and feeling pretty miserable. Barely two days and already I was going through some existential crisis. Hardly an inspiring sign.

The distant sound of voices raised distracted me and pulled me towards them. A distraction was exactly what I needed and those voices hinted at just that.

I found myself approaching a pub, the Black Bull or so said the faded letters on the wooden sign above the door. A couple of men stood in the doorway, smoking and laughing as they cracked jokes. Both had a pint glass in their hand, the dark contents sloshing around tantalisingly.

It had been more than three decades since I had a beer, I realised. At least by how time had passed for me in my hellish prison. I had only a few coins, loose change from shopping earlier, but it would be enough for one drink at least.

The men mumbled apologies and ducked out of my way as I approached and I raised my eyebrows at their deference. A novelty for me. I could feel their gazes fixing on my ass as I pulled open the door and stepped through, but for some reason, it didn’t bother me.

Which, in itself, did bother me.

The inside was much as advertised by the exterior. Dated furnishings with ripped fabric on the stools and chairs. The walls were stained yellow with years of smoke that was still there despite smoking being banned inside for years now.

The chipped and dented bar was polished but the floor before it was sticky and grime stuck in the edges and corners. The crowd was sparse with more men than women and tending to the older end, though in a back room that I could see through an open door, there was a younger crowd surrounding a pool table.

“What can I get you, love?”

I titled my head as I studied the selection of bottles on the shelves behind the bar. A poor choice, the standard fare and nothing too expensive. I hadn’t expected much but even my low expectations were let down by what was on offer.

“Lager,” I said, nodding at the beer pump before me. The barman grunted a reply and grabbed a pint glass from beneath the bar.

I watched him fill it, salivating in anticipation. He placed the full pint glass in front of me and I handed over the handful of coins. He frowned down at it and gave back a twenty-pence piece before shaking his head and turning away to use the till.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

That first sip was exquisite. It was cheap and frothy, cold and sharp, but it was something I had not had for so long that it tasted like nectar.

I took another swallow before wiping my mouth with the back of my hand and turning to lean back against the bar.

Other than the occasional glance and leer that I wasn’t supposed to notice, I was largely ignored by the crowd. Which didn’t really suit me just then, so I pushed away from the bar and headed into the back room.

There, I definitely received more attention. Some of it was good, admiring looks from the boys, and others bad. I was intruding on the girls’ territory and they were not shy about showing their displeasure.

I raised my glass in mock salute as I winked wickedly at them.

That really didn’t do me any favours but I was fine with that. Father had once told me that I was addicted to chaos. Causing trouble even when I knew I would be punished, just to see what chaos would erupt.

I’d denied that for a long time, hating to admit that Father was right about anything but ultimately, I couldn’t keep on denying it. I thrived on chaos. I loved it.

There was something deeply fulfilling about lobbing a figurative grenade into a crowd and watching the explosion in real-time. Of course, Delilah had been eager to point out that I had a streak of cruelty to match her own, and that, again, was something I couldn’t deny.

I sipped at my beer and watched the boys play pool, ignoring the girls' glares as I wore only a smile on my face, which likely irked them more than anything else.

It didn’t take long for one of the boys to work up the courage to walk over to where I leaned against the wall.

He was tall, perhaps an inch under my height in my own body, and slim though there was definitely definition to his arms and shoulders. Someone who worked with his hands, I guessed, and not some gym rat.

His sun-touched skin was clear with only the faint hint of dark stubble on a well-defined jawline. There was a definite swagger to his walk and I found myself eyeing him as he approached. When my eyes met his, I felt a definite tug.

My smile didn’t slip but I was alarmed! That was the body’s reaction and not mine and the very fact that I could feel it meant that even in the short time I had been in the body, I was starting to connect firmly with it.

I might have less time than I’d thought.

“Hey.” His voice was smooth, his smile effortless with just the one corner of his mouth lifting higher than the other.

I quickly took another sip of my drink.

“Hey yourself,” I said, eyes flicking towards the girls. They were not happy, which made me immeasurably more so.

“Not seen you in here before.”

Which could be true. I had no way of knowing one way or another. I lifted my shoulders slightly as his eyes flicked down to my cleavage and then back up to my face. His smile never faltered and I felt a definite heat.

Fuck.

I threw back the rest of my drink and leaned in towards him. He smelt good. Which confused me as there wasn’t much in the way of aftershave, just some deodorant and his own natural odour. I found myself not caring as I inhaled that scent and widened my smile.

“Want to get out of here?”

His eyebrows raised but he didn’t question his luck as he downed his pint and slipped an arm around my waist. He shot a cocky grin at his friends as we headed for the door and their raucous roar of approval followed us outside.

“Where we going?”

“Somewhere quiet,” I said, voice trembling with anticipation.

“I’ll call a taxi.”

“No, out here is fine. Close. Now.” His hand slipped down to my ass at my fevered tone and he leaned down, mouth opening as he went in for a kiss.

I hesitated, not quite certain I wanted to go through with it but then gave a mental shrug and gave in. Our lips met, his breath hot and heavy as he pressed his to mine with an urgency that sent a shiver down my spine.

Despite that urgency, the kiss was not hurried. It was a slow, deliberate exploration of my mouth and I responded in kind, savouring the moment. His hands moved up my body as I slid mine down his sides, gripping his waist and pulling him against me.

I could feel his excitement and I almost gave in to this body’s desire before I pulled away, eyes fixing to his and holding him with my stare. There was heat in his gaze and he moved in for another kiss but I pulled away again, teasing him, as his excitement pressed hard against my thigh.

“Fuck,” he gasped. “I want you!”

“Good,” I whispered, running a finger down his cheek. I could feel the heat of his skin, and there was an almost electric charge between us. He was defenceless before me as I pulled him closer, my voice lowering to a sultry whisper. “Aphrodite, a dhíbir dúil, tabhair dom umhlaíocht anama seo.”

The rush of power as my magic surged through me was almost more than I could bear. As aroused as this body already was, it was almost enough to finish the job. I trembled and gasped as the boy’s eyes went round, and then blank, his will stolen for the moment.

I reached up and patted his cheek as I felt something close to regret for not pursuing what could have been a novel experience. Instead, I had a different kind of fun in mind.

Whispered words filled his head as I pressed my lips close to his ear, the pliant mind eager to absorb and obey my instructions. He released his hold of me, shaking his head and backing away. A flash of anger crossed his face, his cheeks heating as his smile turned to a scowl, his handsome face twisting with anger.

He turned around and stormed back inside the pub, throwing open the door as he barged past an old grey-haired man on his way to the toilet. The old man stared after him as he stormed into the back room where voices raised in query soon turned to surprise and then alarm.

A girl screamed, a man cried out and glass shattered. I leaned back against the wall, throwing back my head against the rough stone as I listened to the sounds of violence from within. More voices were raised in alarm and bodies rushed through from the front room as older, calmer heads tried to calm the growing storm of violence.

Laughter filled the air and I realised it was mine, as I enjoyed the chaos I had wrought.