“That’s what jump points do. They teleport people to different destinations.”
I couldn’t resist smiling. How neat.
Nick reached into his coat and pulled out something that appeared to be a marble. Without much light I couldn’t discern its exact shape. But after a few seconds the marble quivered and bright light enveloped the room. I squeezed my eyes shut from the glare.
“Hey, could you be careful with your flashlight there?”
He chuckled. “Sorry about that. This basement has cockroaches and all sorts of nasty things.”
My nose had told me the place wasn’t clean, but after he’d turned on the light, I wished he’d turn it back off. Every corner of the basement was filled with boxes—covered in mold.
I covered my mouth and tried not to retch. “I thought I smelled mold, but I didn’t know it was this bad. Oh, my goodness, it’s everywhere—”
We weaved around the maze of boxes until we reached the end of the storage room.
“Couldn’t they … move the jump spot?”
“For my sake, I wish they could. But this building belongs to a warlock who doesn’t appreciate others casting spells in his domain. He’s been kind enough to allow me access.”
I huffed. “So you’re saying someone willingly lives like this?” I reached into my purse and pulled out a baby wipe to use on my hands. They weren’t dirty, but I still felt soiled. I offered one to Nick and he gratefully used it.
“When you see where we are, you’ll feel better.” Eventually we emerged into a lobby, a rather clean one, at an office. I watched as men and women emerged from the
Greenpoint Gazette
building to head out for an early lunch along Nassau Avenue.
We walked out into the street and I gazed at the buildings. How I missed New York. I immediately recognized the location—the Greenpoint community of Brooklyn.
So many scents, both welcoming and repulsive, but a cornucopia of richness for me to absorb. I noticed many places we could have lunch, whether we wanted American or Polish food. Archie’s was great, but even I knew a little variety never hurt.
“From the look on your face, you’re hungry. We could eat before we head to Dr. Frank’s.”
“I’d love to.”
We strolled for ten minutes. Eventually, Nick pointed out a pizza place, but I declined.
“But they’re owned by werewolves. I’ve had their pizzas before and they’re not too bad. I thought you’d feel comfortable there.”
“Yeah, but just because they’re clean doesn’t mean they can make pizza. Werewolves make the worst pizza.”
He shrugged. “Your choice. But unfortunately the rest of the places nearby aren’t clean to … our standards.”
I hadn’t expected my escort to cater to my needs. From the look in Nick’s eyes, the werewolf pizzeria would offer a sane place for us to eat.
“Lead the way. We have time to eat and do a bit of shopping. I want to be on time.”
After we entered the place, I knew I’d come back again. It was pristine and well organized. A hostess in a black dress greeted us at the door. “Ready to eat? Booth or table?” She wasn’t a werewolf, but she smelled of magic. Perhaps she was the daughter of a supernatural and a human.
“A booth, please,” I said. I hated tables and sat at them only if I had no choice. Tables offered points of vulnerability.
With only the workers who were having lunch early roaming about, we had no trouble finding a perfect booth.
As we sat down I said, “This has to be a dream.” The jade-green seats were comfortable and wonderfully clean.
“Yeah, I eat here often. The owner is … like us. He’s pretty strict about cleanliness. I think he’s won awards from the Department of Heath for the cleanest kitchen.”
I ran my finger over the table and just about purred. Perfect. Just the way I like it.
“He told me a few weeks ago that he’d had some Department of Health trainees come through to see how he runs his business.”
A waitress appeared to bring water and take our orders. While I perused the menu, Nick struck up a conversation. “So you lived in New York before?”
“I lived here a little over four years ago.” My voice trailed away as I scanned the listings. Nick had entered dangerous territory.
He paused for a moment and folded his arms across his chest. “And? Most people live in the city for a reason. You moved back to New Jersey to work at a flea market?”
“People leave the city all the time. I had a job that didn’t work out for me.”
“In what way? I’d have thought you’d crack working in a city like this.”
My grip on the menu tightened. “Over the past few years, things in my life have changed in many ways. Some of them haven’t been good.”
He took a sip of his water. “And that’s why you’re seeing Dr. Frank.”
I nodded. “Yet again. I guess I finally want to get my life back on track.”
“I fell off the track and I’ve been off it for years.” He cocked a grin. “Perhaps too long to climb back on.”
His positive nature was infectious. “So you’re going to work at a pawnshop for the rest of your life?”
“I wish I could. Dr. Frank tried to take me on as an apprentice but that would require a few years of medical school.”
“I think you’d be a great therapist. That calming spell is divine.”
He chuckled. “Sometimes we wizards get a thrill from the exchange too—if it’s with the right person.”
I tried to hide my smile as we sat for a bit. Was he implying that he got as much from using his magic to calm me as I did?
To end the silence I asked, “So, are you a goth wizard or something?”
“Goth? Whatever made you think that?”
I pointed to his death-march clothes.
“Oh, I guess I would give that impression. No, I prefer to wear black. If there were any dark stains it would be harder to see them, and my whole wardrobe looks the same, so there’s less stress.”
Every once in a while, Nick stole a glance at my face. The whole encounter didn’t bother me at first—I’d had men check me out before. But it was unnerving the way he stared at the contours of my face as if he found me interesting. His heart rate hadn’t changed, nor did his scent indicate that he was aroused. Thorn never examined me like this. He would’ve undressed me with his eyes by this point. Suddenly, I couldn’t stop my cheeks from reddening. Was Nick using glamour to hide certain things from me? To me, the world is a place of smells indicating the state of everything, including whether someone was sick, aroused, or angry. A scent revealed everyone’s true nature, but somehow the man in front of me showed me one thing but told my nose something else.
Not a bad trick if it was true, especially if it meant that someone wanted to reach out to me. I wouldn’t mind hooking back up with Thorn, but he wasn’t free. And with all the burdens I had to bear, a little calming magic on demand wouldn’t hurt.
The continuous line of customers distracted me from my thoughts, in particular the shape-shifter couple that entered the restaurant and sat across from us. They nodded briefly in Nick’s direction and ordered from the waiter.
We watched the other customers until our food arrived. Now, most folks might think that werewolves growl and snarl when they consume their meals. But, well, as someone with an obsessive disorder, I eat like I’m dissecting my meal in a biology lab.
I ate my pizza with a fork and knife to keep my hands from getting greasy. If I’d ordered the lasagna, I would’ve cut every piece for the perfect fit in my mouth. At Archie’s I’d gotten eating a burger and fries down to an exact science of cleanliness.
Across the table, Nick did the same. A wide grin spread across my face. He smiled too and added a wink. For once, I didn’t feel self-conscious about my actions.
Great minds think alike
.
The therapy group went well—the first three minutes anyway. Besides Nick and me, the gang from before was there: Abby, Raj, Tyler, Heidi, and Lilith. Dr. Frank used the first three minutes of the session to prepare us for the arrival of our newest member.
“Now I want you all to take a moment to feel calm and prepare yourself for a new member.” As in the last session, Dr. Frank worked his white-wizard magic to woo us into a serene state.
I wished the man bottled the stuff so I could hoard it.
“I wanted to wait until everyone was present and seated before I introduced you to Starfire Whimsong.”
Oh, this had to be good. A few people here would need more therapy just to get over the stress caused by parents who couldn’t just name their kids Will or Betty.
Mr. Whimsong, as I shall call him henceforth, came in after Dr. Frank left the room to fetch him.
The appearance of our newest member elicited a laugh from Lilith; she covered it with a hand. Apparently, even the desperate had standards. Mr. Whimsong was dressed in a Hawaiian shirt and jean shorts. Never mind that the weather outside was cold enough for a jacket. With his cheeks rosy from the outdoors, a bright smile, and a long mane of blond hair, Mr. Whimsong resembled a husky Norseman. From where I sat, I immediately noticed his hands, or should I say, the lack of hygiene they exhibited. A layer of black dirt was caked under his uneven nails. Accompanying him into the room was the scent of forest magic—on top of his deodorant-free “natural smell.” Heidi scrunched her face. Hell, even the mermaid knew he stank.
He nodded to everyone and went around the circle trying to shake everyone’s hand. Not the smartest choice with this group.
“Hey, thanks for letting me come by.” He held out his hand to Tyler and the dwarf shook it with an uneasy smile. Heidi and Abby didn’t have cleanliness issues, so they shook his hand and mumbled their names.
Then Mr. Whimsong came to poor Raj. Our visitor reached for the Indian deity’s hand, but Raj’s didn’t move. “Nice to meet you,” Raj mumbled with a nod. His gloved hands gripped the box of antibacterial wipes I’d recommended. From the look on his face, he appeared to have high hopes of not needing it.
Mr. Whimsong chuckled. “Oh, that’s all right, man. Some folks like their personal space in this universe.”
I could’ve avoided the handshake like Raj, but I wanted to be cordial like my grandmother had taught me. I briefly shook Mr. Whimsong’s hand before he took the empty seat between Dr. Frank and Raj. Thank goodness I had some hand sanitizer.
Watching me apply a generous amount of Purell to my hands, Nick gestured for me to toss the bottle. I pretended I didn’t understand.
Dr. Frank said, “Starfire is here with us today to begin group therapy. I appreciate you taking the time to welcome him.” He turned to Mr. Whimsong. “Feel free to tell the group whatever you like. We have a supportive atmosphere here.”
From across the group’s circle, Nick gestured again with a growing frown. I mouthed the word, “What?”
Our little exchange didn’t prevent Mr. Whimsong from telling us his harrowing story. “I’m glad to be here with all this positive energy. I mean, man, this city is practically overwhelming, with the pollution and chemicals. But then I come in here and all I see is positive people trying to help each other.”
The mermaid sighed in agreement. From across the room, Nick flicked his fingers and the antibacterial bottle flew out of my hands.
“I thought the east coast would be a good place to work—whoa, flying stuff there.” He chuckled again and then continued. “You wouldn’t believe how hard it is to be a nymph with all those companies poisoning the environment. All these dying kids without food, the melting icebergs—all of this has gotten to me, and I’m kinda having trouble coping.”
We all fell silent and nodded in sympathy. Even super-naturals deserved to live free from their anxieties. My problems seemed trivial in comparison; poor Mr. Whimsong had the weight of every melted iceberg on his mind. (Should I be a good girl and not mention the growing global warming problem?)
“Have you taken any steps to lower your anxiety?” Heidi asked.
“I spent some time in India to find my center and refocus.
But it didn’t work.” His head swiveled to Raj. “Awesome country you got there, brother.”
Raj rolled his eyes and suppressed a laugh.
But Nick couldn’t hold his laughter in. He covered his outburst with a cough as Lilith chimed in, “I agree that finding your center doesn’t work. Have you tried to let it go and tell yourself that shit happens?”
All of us turned to Lilith with wide eyes. I guess she didn’t see Mr. Whimsong as a potential date.
Dr. Frank said, “What we’d like you to do today is talk through your problems, and then talk about the solutions you can find to face them.”
Mr. Whimsong lowered his head. Now his long blond hair covered his rosy cheeks. “I face these problems every day, man. I head out there and try to bring down those greedy corporations.”
“I think he meant facing your problem via non-protest-related activities,” Lilith said.
Nick leaned back in his seat. “Could you shut up for ten minutes?”
“Now, now, Nick. Lilith, are you having a rough day today?” Dr. Frank asked.
She grinned and revealed a line of toothpaste on her teeth. “Actually, no. I have a date for tomorrow night.”
“God help him,” I mumbled.
After that, each of us discussed our exercises and offered support—real support that let us laugh and even allowed Abby to cry. It’s amazing how baring your soul to a small group of people can make such a difference.
After the session, I declined to talk further with the new representative for SETA (Supernaturals for the Ethical Treatment of Animals) so Nick could escort me home. According to Dr. Frank earlier, we’d successfully completed our exercise and were now ready for our next one.
“I think you’re both ready for another exercise. But I need you to be on your best behavior this week,” Dr.
Frank said. He eyed us both with suspicion. Did he know about the Statue of Liberty commemorative ornament hidden within the folds of my purse?
“You guys need to head over to a pawnshop in Brooklyn this week or the next. Nick needs to face the prospect of returning an item, and Nat, you need to resist your urge to acquire new things. I think this will be a low-stress exercise, since you aren’t being asked to remove anything from your home.”
I bit my lip.
Sounds easy enough
. And it wasn’t as if the pawnshops in Brooklyn even stocked halfway-decent ornaments. (Should I tell Dr. Frank that I’d already scoped out most of the establishments on a biyearly basis? Nope, I thought not.)