My gaze shifted to the wizard across from me. For some reason, I focused on a single fleck of silver in his right iris. It flickered like a blinking star.
Nick blurted, “But I thought I always worked with Zac.”
Dr. Frank sighed. “Zac had a setback this week.”
“But he made great strides last week.”
“I thought so as well, Nick. But a warlock who casts
spells every time he sneezes can get himself into a bit of trouble.” Dr. Frank tapped his empty coffee cup and it vanished. “And the binding spell therapy doesn’t work well during the high pollen seasons.”
Nick nodded. “I’ll give him a call, nonetheless, to check on him.”
Among all the misfits in the room, Nick really stood out—he just didn’t seem like one of us. He sat up straight and his gaze bore directly into you. If he had anxieties, they didn’t show on the outside. And most of the folks in the room had quirks related to anxiety disorders. My curiosity got the best of me and he caught me staring. I glanced away, but not before he offered me a small smile.
“I’d like you two to take a weekend day to exchange an item of value with each other. You will return it to the other person at the next meeting. The key is for you to part with your personal property and then really think about whether it was necessary for your day-to-day survival.”
What kind of exercise was that? Didn’t matter. I was sure I could find something in my home I could pawn off on the wizard.
“Thanks. That should be it, everyone. I’ll see you during your private session with me during the week. Hopefully, the next time we talk as a group everyone will have made forward progress.”
Everyone stood so I did too. From across the room, I heard Dr. Frank say, “Oh, Mr. Fenton?”
Nick paused at the door. “Yes, sir?”
“Make sure Ms. Stravinsky gives you something holiday-oriented. And in a box.”
As I walked out of the room, I gave Dr. Frank the evil eye. Damn, that old wizard knew me too well.
Nick waited for me outside the office. The white wizard
leaned against the hallway wall. “Do you have a phone number or e-mail address I can use to contact you?”
As I approached him, I detected a scent I’d never smelled before. It tickled my nostrils like cinnamon. “We don’t really have to exchange stuff this week. We could try it next week if you like.”
From the face he gave me, I knew Nick wouldn’t let me wiggle past the assignment. Teaming me up with him was yet another smart decision on Dr. Frank’s part.
I fished in my purse and pulled out my card from The Bends. “Here’s my contact information at work. I live in Jersey.”
He nodded and placed the card in his coat. “I’ll be in touch this weekend.” With a brief flash of light, he shimmered out of existence.
The drive out of town allowed me to drift away on a cloud. The endless towns passed by, and I used the time to think about the positive aspects of my life. I had a home and a job. Okay, this should be where I come up with a vast list and go through a
Christmas Carol
moment where I learn that things are going my way. But I couldn’t.
Thoughts of a job and a home only went so far when you had a pack of killers on your heels—and the man whom you thought was the love of your life belonged to someone else.
F
or
the first time in years, I almost didn’t make it to work on time.
The culprit wasn’t an attack from the Long Island werewolves or my plan to hide all my ornaments from Nick. On my way to work I passed a garage sale. And those heartless people had put all their Christmas stuff out for sale. Their loss was my gain.
Eager to initiate the hunt, I pulled over to the side of the road and joined the other early-morning shoppers.
The house was a rickety one off the side of the road, with dirty old shingles dangling off the roof, warped siding, and a porch large enough to host a Stravinsky family reunion. They lived not far off the highway and had plenty of parking spots on their run-down lawn. Of course, the condition of their home didn’t deter me from stalking their goods. I gingerly walked across their muddy lawn, undeterred in my goal to reach the house.
At first I tried to walk in the street, but for the sake of not turning into roadkill I’d spotted on the side of the road, I braved the curb to reach the wares.
Part of me pleaded with myself to get back in the car to reach work on time. The urge to check my watch nagged at me like one of my little cousins. But when I spotted a whole table full of holiday cheer, a pleasant
feeling swept over me. A stirring in my senses, just like when one enters a bakery full of cakes and candies. Your mouth waters in anticipation of holding a warm treat in your hand.
I felt that way when I reached the table. Eager. Excited. Elated. For a second, I was worried that an elderly lady was going to beat me there, but her destination turned out to be a rack of ugly hats. I would
never
buy a hat owned by someone else. For all you know, the previous owner might’ve been carrying the black plague in their mullet. Especially with hats labeled
“I got me a virgin fer Christmas!”
Right next to a dirty, holey hat that read, in large letters,
“Jersey Bred and Jersey Truckin’.”
Before I even touched anything, I assessed the cornucopia on the table. I had a limited amount of time, and there was plenty to keep me occupied. I had the eye of an antiquarian, but the restless hands of a five-year-old at a candy store. Without conscious thought I snatched a Christmas print Crock-Pot cover, two Frosty the Snowman oven mitts, and a set of broken Christmas lights. (They were labeled as “broken,” but if I find the time I’ll get them fixed—someday.)
The woman collecting the money grinned when she saw me coming with my hands full. She sat behind a card table with her money box ready to accept my cash.
“Is that it?” she asked.
“Oh, no.” I set my items on a free spot next to her. “This is my pile. I’ll be back.” I glanced at my watch. Shit. I needed to move much faster.
With time running out, I ran into the same battle I always encountered. The urge to buy everything versus the fact that I had no room at home. Why did I buy broken things, assuming that I’d fix them later? Then of course I’d remind myself that I only bought stuff I could actually
fix
, like Christmas lights. And I didn’t discard stuff
in a haphazard pile in my house. Every new ornament got a box and a thorough cleaning. So why not add a few more?
Every new shopper who passed the table stirred my blood. Two ladies brushed by the table with one picking up a Christmas tea set. The minute she put it down—hard enough to crack the delicate porcelain—I snatched it up. I had to take the four cups’ teapot and their respective saucers home before some other garage sale shopper wannabe without scruples broke them.
I hauled my final box to the checkout. The gushes of happiness overrode the nagging feeling to see how much I’d taken. And then I remembered that I was in therapy to combat this very problem.
Before I could change my mind, I placed the box on the card table with a heavy thump.
“Did you find everything you wanted?” She made me feel ashamed. A little anyway. I’d bought enough to empty my wallet.
I kept my voice even. “Yes, a few things.”
She tried to move the box to go through it. It didn’t budge an inch. “Wow, you’re strong,” she said. She came around to the other side of the table to fish out the ornaments.
I stole a glance at my watch and gasped. I had eight minutes to pack up and get to work. “Is there any way you could move faster?”
I pulled out my pocketbook. Time to wheel and deal. The woman wanted to wrap every damn dish in newspaper. “How about thirty for everything?”
Her mouth formed an “O.” I’d made her a generous offer in my opinion. I tried to look indifferent, keeping a straight face so I didn’t look like a shopaholic pining for my next fix.
“How about forty? That tea set is collectible.”
I couldn’t help smiling. “If it’s so collectible, why are you selling it at a garage sale?” I didn’t see a collector’s label on the bottom of the saucers. I also didn’t have time to go into such details.
“Thirty’s fine.” She shrugged. “Just clearing out a few things.” She motioned to a man sitting in a lawn chair, enjoying a morning beer.
“Hon, could you help this nice lady carry her things to her car?”
For a second, I was disappointed that she didn’t want to haggle. But as I helped the man carry my Christmas cheer to my car, I didn’t care. I couldn’t wait to clean my new ornaments. To find places for them in my home. I’d make them beautiful again. Make them shine in ways their previous owner, that woman, never had. By the time I was done, those ornaments would feel
loved
.
I reached The Bends in record time. I must’ve built up a few karma points, since I managed to avoid every cop on the Garden State Parkway. When I pulled into the parking space, next to other shoppers waiting to get inside, I expected the day to progress well. With several boxes of goodies in the backseat, the only thing that could bring me down today would be if Bill managed to mess up the SKU numbers in the store’s catalogue system again.
I opened the door and turned to see someone leaning against my car. How Thorn managed to sneak up on me every single time was a mystery I needed to figure out.
My gaze darted to the boxes in the backseat as he strolled over to me. “You’re up early.”
“Night shift.” His voice sounded far away. He paid no mind to the boxes filled with red and green in my car.
I tried to keep my eyes on my final destination, my work, but Thorn had approached me with his arms crossed. “How are you feeling?” he asked.
“As good as I can under the circumstances. Did you find Wendell and his girlfriend?”
“No leads. Rex said their trail went cold after they passed through Double Trouble State Park.”
I figured as much. If I had to choose a tracker, Rex would’ve been last on my list. That asshole couldn’t track a carousel horse’s path. But Rex’s lack of tracking skills wasn’t what kept me standing here, especially with the need to get to work. I had something else lingering on my tongue.
“Why do you keep checking on me? Erica doesn’t seem to approve.” There, I’d said it.
“Damn it, Nat. You let me worry about Erica. What I’m doing here with you right now has nothing to do with her.”
“Well, she sees me as a threat.”
His eyes narrowed. “What did she say to you?”
I couldn’t lie to him. He knew when I lied or withheld information. “In no uncertain terms am I to come in contact with you.” I paused for a moment and ran my fingers along the wrinkles in my shirt. “Why are you checking up on me?”
“You’re my friend. I refuse to give that up for her.”
I wanted to ask him what other feelings brewed within him, but a seal formed over my mouth. Once he’d told me that I was his moon. At this moment, I felt like I was as far away as the Dog Star, Sirius, is from Earth.
I started to take a step toward my job, but he laughed and leaned back against the car.
“I just remembered the last time we hunted together.” He offered his golden smile. “Before I left.”
I laughed and moved next to him. He turned his head toward mine. The sunrise appeared behind him and cast an angelic glow around his head.
“I distinctly remember the time you led me toward the swamp.”
“Hey, it’s not my fault you’re gullible.”
“As a pack leader, it’s your job not to lead your flock astray.”
He pushed my shoulder affectionately. “You should follow your nose instead of the person ahead of you.” His tone turned serious. “Sometimes you have to depend on your own abilities and not those of your alpha.”
I nodded.
“You have a keen eye, Natalya. I still don’t understand why everyone doesn’t give you credit for Deirdre.”
Deirdre
. My mood immediately darkened. Five months before Thorn had left, one of the local girls had gone missing while her Girl Scout troop camped in the forest. The police had formed search parties, while the werewolves had organized themselves. A few rogue wolves had been roaming in the area and we were afraid they might find her first.
No one asked me to join their search party, so I’d headed out alone into the darkness. From the Girl Scout camp, I’d tracked Deirdre’s position. I squeezed my eyes shut, recalling how I’d found her. How the unhinged anger and hatred had emerged from me, like a consuming fire—
I found my voice. “Yeah. Good thing I joined in the search that night.”
He wrapped one arm around my shoulders and gave a squeeze for support. His hand lingered on my arm, adding heat to my skin. The pure torture quickened my pulse.
An awkward moment passed. Then our eyes locked for a moment and a hot sliver of passion passed between us. But I didn’t need eyes to sense his desire. His scent changed from calm to excited within seconds. He broke the stare and took a few steps to the side. We couldn’t keep doing this to each other. The invisible line that connected our bodies drew taut like a rope.
“I can’t keep you out here forever. You better get inside.”
I wanted to ask a thousand questions. Did he think about me after he left? Did he date anyone else while he was away?
As I walked away from him, I didn’t need to turn around to know his eyes were on my back.
If not for the full moon, I never would have met Thorn.
Back at the University of Pittsburgh, I’d somehow survived my first semester as an English major. But my second one didn’t seem likely to go as well.
Like every English major, I had to take English composition for my degree. It was a damn shame the professor didn’t know the value of deodorant. From the grumbles of other students who’d survived his class, I suspected that he’d gone au naturel for a long time.
I waltzed into the classroom, only to march right back out. Under most circumstances I could endure the smell, but the moon stirred the wolf under my skin. My senses flared and receded with uncomfortable frequency. On any other day of the month, I would’ve sat in the back of the class, but on that first day, I just couldn’t take it. I’d smelled worse, but geez, if you could smell that from ten paces away, would you want to hang out there?