So I marched across campus through the snow to the registrar’s office and prepared to stand in a long line to get a new class.
Before online registration arrived a year later, I heard the upperclassmen refer to this line as Purgatory. The name fit. Heaven if you made it to the end, and hell if you gave up to return another day. While I waited I tried to occupy myself with a book, but my nose kept urging me to turn around. I caught the scent of a wolf behind me—a male who reminded me of home.
Two girls joined their friend ahead of us. “Oh, c’mon,” the man behind me groaned.
He leaned toward me and whispered, “I bet if we growled we could scare them away.” His voice resonated with me, drawing me to turn around and face him. I’d seen him many times back home, but I’d never stood this close to Thorn Grantham before.
“You look familiar,” he said.
“We’re from the same town.”
His eyebrows lowered. “Yes, we are.” The line shuffled forward. “Well, then, I’m glad I get another chance to get to know you since I missed out on the last one.”
I wanted to roll my eyes, but it’s hard to mock an attractive man. Even the girls ahead of us turned in our direction, hoping to catch his eye. The trio included two blondes and one who wished her dye job could get her classified as one. They tried to spark up a conversation, and even when Thorn kept focusing on me, they didn’t stop trying.
“You’re taking a freshman course? You don’t look like any freshman I’ve ever seen,” said the tallest one.
He offered a lazy grin. “I guess I look mature for my age.”
I stifled a laugh. Male werewolves during the full moon smell like canned sex. If I hadn’t had home training from my parents, I would’ve rubbed my face all over his chest. It was a nice chest too.
“So what are you doing after you escape from the line?” the bold fake blonde asked him. Even though she was wearing a heavy coat, one couldn’t miss the healthy helping of breasts straining beneath it. Most men couldn’t resist those things. I assumed my short conversation with Thorn was coming to an end.
“Natalya and I plan to head down to the coffee shop for some studying,” Thorn said. “We’re taking English composition together and need to scope out a better study spot.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but his smirk stopped me. A blush tickled my cheeks. That tricky little devil. How did he know my name?
The woman nodded and turned back to her friends.
“How’d you know what class I need to take?” I asked.
He gestured to my backpack. “Your schedule is in the see-through pocket in the front.”
I tried to hide my smile. “How observant of you.”
He crossed his arms. “I could say the same about you.” He had a way of saying words that turned my insides into a buttery mess. I’d known him for twenty minutes and I already wanted to hand him my take-my-virginity-please card.
We strolled through the line for a bit. I wished I had something eloquent to say. Unfortunately, all I came up with was, “We don’t have to meet for coffee later.” The words stumbled out and I wished I could’ve snatched them from the air. Especially since most normal women didn’t try to retract an opening for a date. But I guess I didn’t exactly qualify as “normal.”
“You can’t back out now. Especially since you need to tell me your plans for the full moon.”
For the past few months, the full moon had just meant that I paced the rooms in my tiny apartment alone. I also never interacted with the meager number of wolves on campus. “I don’t have any plans.”
His golden eyes twinkled as he rested a warm palm on my shoulder.
“You do now.”
It’s amazing how time has changed the world around me. And yet while I worked at The Bends that morning, I felt as if I were standing still the whole time. My fingers lingered on the Haunted Heather collector’s set of porcelain figurines. For the third time, I’d pushed the moaning
pieces of porcelain around into different arrangements. Damn enchanted antiques. Every time I touched one, it groaned right on cue. To quell the desire to perfect their position, I mentally kicked myself and made a decision to move on to something else.
By ten a.m., The Bends’ usual throng of morning shoppers had pored over the wares. I took a few minutes when we weren’t busy to tidy up. I adjusted three rows of old costumes and just barely heard Quinton creep up behind me.
“We’ve never sold any of those,” he commented.
I avoided his dark eyes. After our “date,” I’d steered clear of him whenever possible. I respected him professionally, but the germ-laden dead-bodies thing made my skin crawl.
“Everything in here will have a home eventually. It’s all about the right shopper at the right time.”
He nodded and continued to stand behind me.
Okay, creepy janitor, I should find something for you to do
.
“Did you take Mrs. Schaefer’s bureaus to the back loading dock?”
“I took care of that a while ago.” I knew he’d done it, but perhaps it would encourage him to remember something else he had to do. I most certainly didn’t expect him to go from piece to piece like I did, searching for dust or fingerprints to remove.
Bill came to my rescue. “Quinton, I’ve got the customer who bought that old chest. Been waiting a year and a half to get rid of the damn thing. Take care of it, will you?”
Quinton nodded again before he left my side. I watched him shuffle away and wished I could wash our encounter from my mind. Before Neil the zombie had made his appearance, I’d learned that there was more to the necromancer, but even I had standards, such as “no sex with men who played with dead people.”
Not long afterward, I had an unexpected visitor from New York. Heidi the mermaid stopped by.
When I’d actively participated in group therapy, we’d spoken often. She bounced into the room and browsed through a few tables before she came my way. Something about her reminded me of a contained supernova. From the way she walked to the cadence of her words, she held a power I didn’t understand.
Every time I saw her, I expected her to look like the legends in books. Long blonde hair, pale, translucent skin. But with bronzed skin, dark red hair, and light green eyes, this mermaid in black boots wouldn’t inspire anyone’s bedtime story.
I approached her with a smile. “What are you doing in my neck of the woods?”
“I had to get out of the city for a while.” The freckles on her face spread as she smiled. “I brought Abby along to keep me company.”
The Muse, dressed in a thick cardigan sweater and jeans, stood in the corner watching others walk past her as if she didn’t exist. Someone as beautiful as she was should’ve gotten a glance or two.
“Not sure if we have anything you like.” From the way they lingered, I sensed that they needed the company of someone who could relate. “I’ve got a break coming up if you want to get a treat. They have tasty smoothies at the local Dairy Queen.”
She nodded. “That sounds good.” No matter the season, even a mermaid couldn’t turn down a brain freeze–inducing Triple Berry Delight smoothie from DQ.
In the company of others, I felt safe heading down the street. The Long Island werewolves wouldn’t dare attack in daylight hours, but by this point I refused to take any chances.
As we walked along the road, Abby kept glancing around as if she expected us to be followed.
“C’mon, Abby.” Heidi pushed her forward. “Nat and I have everything covered.”
“A werewolf and a mermaid teaming up against the psychopath author who wants my help finishing his damn book. That’s not a plot I’d offer anyone.” She flipped her light brown hair back and crossed her arms. We’d get nowhere if she checked around every corner. From the way she walked, everything in her world must’ve projected danger.
Soon enough, we reached the local ice cream place. The older man behind the counter filled our order for three smoothies. Always friendly with a smile, Phil had served the South Toms River Township since I was a kid. “You ladies must be hungry if you need three.”
“Our friend is waiting outside,” I said.
“Well, bring your friend in next time. You know I love to meet new people.”
Heidi took a generous gulp of her smoothie before she replied, “Sure thing. Nice place you have here.”
As we sat at the tables outside the shop, I couldn’t help but think about Abby’s existence. My life revolved around organization and cleanliness, yet she lived in a world of not only loneliness but also fear. Fear of the very same people who served as her purpose in life—her authors.
Heidi raised her face to the sun. “So glad to be farther inland. I get the blotchies when the full moon approaches. The tides kick my ass.”
“Blotchies?”
She pulled up her tank top to reveal light blue dots that resembled hives along her ribs. Most likely her body’s reaction to anxiety.
I asked, “Do you run away every time the tide comes in?”
“Not all the time. Just on days when I miss home.”
We sipped in silence for a bit. To me, home was my family
of werewolves and my things—my ornaments. To be away from them brought up feelings I didn’t want to think about. “After all these years, do you still remember your home? If I may ask?”
“It’s my cradle. The largest home anyone could ever have. I’d never forget it.” She pushed her drink to the side and rubbed her palms against her blue jeans. “It’s also the darkest, most closed-in space I’ve ever been in.”
“Yet you want to go back.” It was Abby who spoke.
“We all have to go home eventually. Whether it’s kicking and screaming or swimming with the current, it’s up to us.” I sensed Heidi’s legs swinging under the table as she spoke. “Right now I’m prolonging the inevitable. The wave is coming, and soon I won’t have any place to hide.”
I could relate. The Long Island werewolves were coming for us. It was my chance to make my stand. But with every confident thought came ten doubts—doubts that I could ever be worthy of the pack. Or of Thorn.
I said, “I kind of wish going home would solve all my problems. But my home is a lonely place.”
They didn’t speak. Only listened.
“I thought being alone would mean I wouldn’t have to hear what people had to say about me, but once in a while I wish I could trade a few of my things for a lifetime of being normal.”
“Normal is overrated,” said Abby. “And it doesn’t produce bestsellers either.”
I cracked a smile. “Kind of sad when we reach the point where humor is all we have left to keep us from drifting out to sea.”
Heidi reached behind her neck. “I have something to anchor you.”
“I don’t need anything. I just need to keep coming to therapy. It worked before.”
“Here.” A gold necklace slid out of her shirt with a pink shell attached. She placed it in my palm.
“No, I can’t take this.” I touched the faded pink shell, still warm from the contact with her skin. Like me, she radiated heat. I traced my fingers along the ridges and found them smooth with age.
“You will. You’ll insult me if you don’t.” Our gazes locked and I slowly nodded.
I had in my palm a part of the deep sea. A part of a creature that had perished a long time ago and that represented home for Heidi. How could she give this away so easily? I would’ve never given it to someone.
“Whenever you need a place to stay, you two are always welcome at my place.” After I said the words, I wondered how I’d managed them. I’d allow two more people to see my home? To touch my things? Yet when I looked at them, just like when I looked at Aggie, I sensed a sisterhood of chaos. Heidi and Abby weren’t strangers. They’d heard my adventures during therapy. My sanctuary should be theirs as well.
“Thanks,” said Heidi.
The Muse simply smiled. “This is a nice town.”
We finished our drinks and watched the squirrels scurry about along the road. A few cars passed and we cracked jokes about the human tourists.
Finally, Heidi stood and I followed her to toss our cups in the nearby trash. “It’s getting late and I have to take Abby home.”
I turned to look at Abby, who continued to drink at a leisurely pace. “Why can’t anyone see her?” I asked Heidi.
“She’s a Muse. Only the writer she inspires can see her.”
I frowned. “Then why—?”
“We aren’t human. She can only inspire humans.”
“Guess that means werewolf authors are screwed.”
She laughed, her crimson curls bouncing. “Pretty much.”
We parted ways, the mermaid and the Muse waving while I put on the necklace. I waited a few minutes for the shell to bring me peace, but nothing happened. I guess it only works on mermaids.
The rest of the morning went by without incident. I was glad the time passed so easily; it let me save up my energy. At lunchtime, Aggie waited for me in a booth at Archie’s. Ever since the attack, she’d offered to drive me to work and meet me for lunch. I tried not to think too hard about the fringe benefits she was getting: a free lunch, and a vehicle for field trips to the store.
I slid into the booth. “Did you bake anything today?”
She rolled her eyes and headed to the line. “That was a one-time thing, Nat. If you don’t want me to touch your precious kitchen, just say so.”
I followed her and whispered, “You know I didn’t mean it like that. You did a great job cleaning up afterward.”
She plucked a snack-sized bag of chips from her purse. “I even dusted around that ugly set of figurines you have in your china hutch.”
I folded my arms, trying not to think about Aggie dusting my china. “Any calls for me today?”
“No calls.” I’d noticed that she’d deleted the message from her father on the answering machine. It had even disappeared from the caller ID log.
“Does anyone ever call your house?”
I tried to suppress a laugh. “Yes. The customer-service people at the Home Shopping Network. The clerks at The Bends.”
She emptied the bag. “I mean
men
. The kind who leave dirty messages on a single girl’s answering machine.”
We gave Jake our order and sat back down to wait. Aggie didn’t have a snide comment as I cleaned the table with baby wipes. Matter of fact, my partner-in-crime even wiped off the ketchup and mustard containers.