Baz looks up at me, and his cheeks look fuller than normal. He smiles then, and I see them—long white fangs, trying to push out over both his lips. “Wicked,” I whisper, trying to look closer. He pushes me back, but not far. “Open your mouth again,” I say. “Let me see.” He sighs and pulls back his lips. His fangs are huge. And they look so sharp. “Where do they even come from? Like, where do they go when you’re not using them?” “I don’t know.” He sounds kind of like he’s wearing braces.
