The character in question continued to slump against the counter. The bottle of bourbon lay outside its sack on the floor, empty and forgotten. The metamorphosis into his werewolf form, the very same one I’d take on tonight, was not yet complete. Instead, he stood there with clawed hands, long snout, and foul bourbon-laden breath. I shook my head while I assessed the scene.
“Mel, you can’t keep doing stuff like this,” said the guy in the green jumpsuit. “This is your fourth notice for public intoxication this month.”
“I’m busy right now, Mike.” He then issued a coughing snarl worthy of one of my intoxicated uncles. “This guy won’t buy my watch. That’s …” He searched for the word in his drunken haze. “Discrimination.”
Buy? I thought he wanted to buy it
back
.
The clerk rubbed his face with his hands. Nick leaned against a wall, amusement shining in his dark eyes.
“Look, Mel, it’s time to go. You’re usually so peaceful when I ask you to come down to the center. Let’s go.”
Mel snarled. I took a half step back as the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. How fast could a shifter fully complete his change? And was there really such a thing as a “peaceful” drunk shapeshifter?
Everyone stood still as Mel’s claws ground into the wood. Since my nose and eyes thought he was a true werewolf, my body reacted in turn. My fingers twitched. Deep within my belly the thirst remained, and I was eager to hunt. Eager to call Mel to my side. But this wasn’t the place, and the human side tried to quell the wolf that writhed under my skin. Then Mel jumped onto the counter. He continued to focus on Mike.
“Natalya.” A brief whisper from Nick. He’d watched me this whole time. He shook his head once. What had he seen me do?
A surge of power blossomed in Mike, and the clerk took a step back. From my position I couldn’t see any changes, or dancing light. All I heard was a hum in my ears that grew until it made me scrunch my forehead in annoyance. Ready to strike, Mike stood still. I glanced at Mel and made a subtle gesture.
“Come to the van, Mel. You shouldn’t stay here with these humans.”
Heads swiveled my way in shock. I purred, “You answer to the moon now—and to me. You will come with me to the van so that we may hunt.” I hadn’t known I could speak like this. I drew his gaze as I took a step back toward the door.
“Nat, what are you doing?” whispered Nick.
The change lingered on the surface of my skin as Mel perched, ready to pounce. I didn’t know how fast spellcasters
like Mike were. But I suspected they needed to be quick on the draw to catch a crazed shapeshifter.
“Don’t come near me,” Mel growled at Mike. “I know what you warlocks do to people like me.” He blinked twice and shook his head. Then he shifted his attention to me. “What are you?”
Who’d have thought our little exercise in restraint would take such an interesting turn?
“Mel, I’m like you. It’s time to go now.” When I said the words I couldn’t believe how authoritative I sounded. Only an alpha would dare to use such a commanding manner.
Mel slowly stepped off the counter. For each step I took out the door, he took one too. Just behind me, I heard Mike murmuring words. Suddenly, a veil of heavy magic flowed out like thin curtains in a summer breeze. I briefly closed my eyes as the sensation cascaded over my body. I wasn’t sure what Mike had done to us until a couple with their dog walked past us without freaking out.
Five more feet and I’d reach the van. Almost there.
“Get in the van and sit down.” He paused for a moment. Had I lost the edge I thought I had? I lifted my chin. No time to second-guess myself with pedestrians walking around. “Inside. Now.” I snarled for good measure.
Mel entered the van through the back and sat down quietly. Mike came up behind me and shut the doors. With a curt nod, he said, “Thanks, ma’am,” and pulled away.
I stood there for a few minutes trying to absorb what had happened. The other Natalya I knew would’ve just stood by and watched the whole event occur.
Nick walked over and touched my shoulder. “What you did was crazy. You should’ve let Mike take care of it.”
“I know. I guess I had to do something since he was in werewolf form.”
He nodded. “Mike’s pretty powerful. He could’ve handled it. You could’ve been hurt badly.”
The look of concern on his face made me feel guilty, but at the time it had seemed like the right thing to do.
Nick said, “Anyway, it’s time to leave. Even though I don’t think you learned your lesson.”
I shook my head with a snicker. “I don’t think I did either.”
“I need to grab something to eat. Are you hungry for lunch?”
“Yeah.” The scent of food along the street made me realize that I was, even though Aggie had made a generous breakfast that had nearly cleared out my fridge. “I need something substantial though.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything different.” He chuckled. “Do you mind if we make a stop at my place? I need to pick up something, and if we eat at Ralph’s, I can drop it off.”
I smiled at the great memories I had of Ralph’s. Most supernaturals knew about Ralph’s food cart. As a
magical
traveling cart, though, his shop tended to appear and disappear in various places. When I’d worked in New York, I used to visit his cart often for the werewolf specials. Not that the other awesome carts here in the city didn’t have their merits. By all means, like anyone who’d lived in New York City, I could appreciate a good cupcake, piece of pizza, or even a fresh gyro. They were also much easier to find with websites, and die-hard fans flocking to them. But there was just
something
about the taste of Ralph’s food.
“I can practically taste his meat sticks,” I said.
Nick nodded as we strolled back to the car. “My place is not too far from here. After that, I need to cast a spell to find Ralph’s cart.”
“I envy you spellcasting folks. Most of the time I had to rely on my nose to find him.”
“Yeah, I always make sure I catch him a few times a year too since I love the sandwiches.”
After a short ride, we pulled up to a street full of brownstones. “Nice neighborhood.”
“I’ve lived in this area for a few years now. I used to live in Long Island but the commute didn’t work out that well.”
“Long Island? That’s where Aggie’s family lives. Why did you live out there?”
“I used to have a job out there as a wizard’s apprentice.”
I scrunched my nose. “How many jobs have you had over the years?”
“More than I want to admit.”
We walked up to one of the buildings as Nick pulled out his keys. “The building is divided into a few studio units. I live in the one upstairs.”
“It’s nice and clean outside.”
He rubbed his fingertips against a set of metal keys. “You can wait in the car if you like.”
“Wait in the car? Why?” I’d seen guys’ apartments before and knew what to expect. It would probably be messy, with black jeans and T-shirts strewn everywhere.
“Well, your place is—more organized. And somewhat cleaner,” he said.
“Well, I am a chick. And I thought you liked a
clean
environment.”
“I do, but my hoarding problem isn’t as contained as yours.”
I scratched my forehead, slightly annoyed. “I have a younger brother. And I’ve smelled and seen worse things in his room. Matter of fact, he once left a pile of clothes on the floor so high I wonder to this day if someone hid Jimmy Hoffa’s body inside it.” My nose twitched from
the memory. “Actually, come to think of it, it
did
smell like he hid a body in there. Anyway, just let me in. I need to use the ladies room.”
“Are you sure? This place is
messy
.”
I wanted to choke the guy. “Yes, I’m sure. You’re mysterious all the time, and it would be nice to see that you’re a normal human being like everyone else.”
“I wouldn’t say I’m
normal
.”
“Oh, c’mon. Have you ever had guests? Female guests?”
He didn’t answer my question as he opened the door and led me into the hallway. Something was up with Nick. The veil that prevented me from smelling his emotions withered away, leaving him exposed. His normally sweet scent of cinnamon had turned bitter, almost as if someone had burned popcorn. Was he anxious? Underneath that, something else lingered—his true scent, a subtle aftershave.
One of the other tenants opened the door to his unit, an elderly gentleman with his German shepherd. The dog tried to lick my hand, but I stuffed it into my pocket. Nick said, “Afternoon, Mr. Blacklowski.”
“Hey, Nicky.” He glanced my way with suspicion. “You have plans for Thanksgiving?” he asked.
“No, Sir.” As Nick tried to push me down the hall, I heard him say, “But I do plan to head out of town to visit family. Tell the missus I send my regrets.”
The elderly gentleman left with a gruff, “Suit yourself.”
I laughed. “What was that all about?”
“Ever since I moved in, the Blacklowskis have tried to hook me up with their daughter.”
“What, she’s not your type?”
“Well, I have nothing against witches, but this one is old enough to have seen the Pilgrims land on Plymouth Rock.”
At the doorway, he hesitated again.
“Oh, come on. I have to use the bathroom.” I reached for his keys. “Are you going to make me go find a public restroom?”
He shook his head and put the key in the lock. “This is the first time I’ve had company at my new place. It isn’t in the best shape today. Well, for the past couple of years, none of my apartments have been in the best shape.”
My bladder protested at the ongoing delay, so I jabbed him in the arm. “Enough of the small talk. I know this bothers you. I can sense your stress. But I promise I won’t say anything critical.” I made the gesture to zip my lips. “I promise like a good Russian Catholic girl.”
“You’re Catholic?”
“Not really, but I thought it would help you open the door faster.”
Reluctantly, he turned the key and opened the door slightly. When I peered into the apartment behind him, I thought I’d drop where I stood. My mouth gaped and I tried to keep words from spilling forth.
Beyond the doorway lay an apartment filled to the hilt with stuff. There was so much, I couldn’t fathom how he managed to store it all inside the small space. From one side of the room to the other, there was only a narrow path to walk through the junk. Broomsticks, wands, a tire inflator, and a pile of books lay in one pile. In another, I spied mounds of teapots, boxes of teabags, and a large serving tray.
Nothing smelled dirty. Even with the precarious heap of watches on an antique old dresser, the desk covered in papers, and an overwhelmed coat rack. I peered at an ornate mahogany coffee table, barely visible under the folds of a few dark blue quilts. Engravings, in some language I didn’t know, had been carved into the sides. How beautiful. Too bad he covered it up. Out of all the things he had, what I didn’t see were old containers with
food or dust. Matter of fact, it was clean chaos, if one could call something that.
I didn’t speak as Nick led me inside. What could I say without hurting his feelings? He seemed ready to blurt out apologies, but he busied himself by heading to the back of the apartment. I followed him until I spotted the door to the bathroom.
How can he possibly live like this?
But I knew the answer to my question. This was exactly like my own existence—but in a more extreme form.
With my foot, I shoved a box of worn leather hats to the side and pushed the door open. I prayed the room was free of junk and clean. Hopefully I’d only find the items one usually sees in a man’s bathroom. To my relief, the only clutter in his bathroom was a T-shirt on the floor. On the sink sat the usual manly stuff: shaving cream, cologne, and an aftershave bottle. The pleasant scent of his aftershave drew my nose. So that’s what I smelled. Nick must wear it every day. Definitely an enjoyable scent.
I didn’t linger at the sink due to the incessant cries of my bladder. I raised the lid of the toilet and leapt back as the water gurgled.
“Oh, shit!” I squealed. A growl emerged from my throat when the water stirred again. There was something living inside Nick’s toilet.
I heard footsteps coming to the door. “You okay, Nat?”
“The water in your toilet is moving.”
“Oh, you found my pet. I was looking for her and she wasn’t in her aquarium.”
I used my heel to lower the lid and I sat on it to hold it closed. “So she hangs out in here? You
let
her do this? What is she?”
“She’s a water sprite. I used to have a familiar, but keeping a regular animal isn’t easy with all this stuff in my apartment.”
So why couldn’t he lock the lid or something? “You do realize toilet water isn’t the most sanitary thing, don’t you?”
“Look, I left a ward on the door to keep her out, but she got through it again. If you need to use the bathroom, let me in so I can take her out.”
I opened the door. “Remind me not to shake your hand in the future.”
Nick entered the small bathroom and lifted the lid. I tried to hold back my horror as I heard him whistle to call the water sprite. The water stirred and a misty cloud formed over the bowl. Then the sprite settled into Nick’s hand. As the room filled with the scent of raspberries I cracked a smile. “Is that from your pet?”
“Yeah. She’s the cleanest thing in this entire apartment, believe me.”
I examined the creature, but its essence kept forming and then collapsing into mist. One minute it was a delicate fairy—wings and all—and the next it swirled into vapor. It radiated affection toward us that filled me with peace. In Nick’s hand, the water sprite’s solid form appeared humanlike with abnormally wide eyes and an unruly mop of white hair. It fidgeted with endless energy.
Nick looked up at me and smiled. I couldn’t resist returning a toothy grin. It wasn’t often that I encountered such things. Even for a werewolf who wasn’t totally unaware of the supernatural, these past couple of weeks had revealed wisps of a magical world I hadn’t seen before.
“Nat, I …”
From the way he gazed at my lips, I couldn’t help it: My heart beat faster. His own quickened. All the signs I’d seen were true—he saw me as much more than a friend. Yet why did I hesitate when it came to Nick? I’d gone out on a date with Quinton. Would affection from Nick be so bad when I craved it? Thoughts of kissing Nick swirled through my mind. Those lips. His large
hands on me. Especially the idea of feeling that calming spell on my girlie bits. But instead of giving in, I scratched my arm and took a half step back. I needed more time to sort things out. Time to end this intimate moment between us.