Coveted (15 page)

She plopped down into the seat across from me. “Do you really want me to kick an elderly man out of your spot?”

“He has two bites left. At the rate he’s eating those sliders, the Long Island werewolves will have kicked my ass long before he’s done.”

I couldn’t contain myself any longer. I stood up, thinking that if I brooded beside him and asserted my ownership over the booth, he’d flee. I was tired of being the most submissive werewolf around. I had to one-up someone, even if it was just a human.

“Don’t do it!” Aggie just missed grabbing my purse to drag me back.

I strolled over and parked myself next to the tourist, an elderly man in a bright green visor. He smelled just like every other tourist, but he’d smell even better at one of the tables on the other side of the place. Okay, time to
try being nice. “Hi, I work at one of the local companies here and I just wanted to thank you for your patronage.”

The man’s head bobbed but not enough to indicate that I had his attention.

“And, as a local, I enjoy eating here. I bet you’re enjoying it, too.”

Still he ignored me as he chewed his meal with his oversized dentures. I was close enough to discern the scent of his Dentu-Creme from the heavy layer of Old Spice.

“OK, let me cut to the chase,” I snapped. “This is my table. Are you almost done yet?”

“Nope. Piss off.”

Instead of reaching for the panic button, I took a deep breath and returned to Aggie. She was grinning. “I’m proud of you.”

“Whatever for?” I put my elbows on the table and rested my face in my hands.

“I thought for a second there that you’d tackle that guy and get arrested for assault.”

I shrugged and laughed. “My parents told me to try to respect my elders. Key word ‘try.’ ”

Even though I didn’t get my preferred table, I’d definitely maintained my dignity and managed to subdue the raging urge to follow my routine.

She chuckled while we took our places in line. “Can you pay for my food? I used the last of my cash to get a ride into town an hour ago.”

“Why so early? Standing guard outside The Bends?”

“Naw, I went job hunting.” She sighed, eyeing the fries on another table. “But this place doesn’t have much in terms of white-collar work right now.”

“You’re too good for retail?”

“If I had to work at McDonald’s or something, I’d do it.”

Jake took our order and I paid. “They do have managerial positions at those kinds of places.” Once we returned
to our table, I said, “Mrs. Hawkins from the flower shop down the street said something about Barney’s hiring people.”

“The pickle place? No thanks.”

I laughed at her. “You too good to serve
long
green pickles to people?”

Misty arrived with our food—and served it with a smile, no less. Good girl.

Aggie tore into her sandwich. “Yes, I’m too good to stand behind a counter and place pickles on plates like they’re eight-inch dildos.”

“Well, they’re hiring and you need a job.” I glanced at my bare wrist to examine my imaginary clock. For some reason I’d forgotten my watch today. “I have a few minutes before I return to work. I think I’ll go fill out an essay or two at Barney’s on my past experience as a rich Manhattan socialite.”

When I came home from my Saturday shift, I found Aggie sitting in the living room wearing a nice blouse and dress pants. Of course, she had a snack in her hands.

“You look—nice.”

“Thanks to your glowing application and recommendation, I was called in this morning for an interview.”

I plopped down on the couch and wrestled her bag of Doritos away. “That fast?”

Aggie flipped back a thick strand of her hair. “Apparently, I work well with others and have an aptitude for teamwork. Where did you pull that shit from?”

“I can be imaginative when necessary.”

“Oh, yes, it’s from your new book,
The Guide to Being a Smart-Ass
. We should use your old New York connections to get it published.”

I tried to imagine what my coworkers in New York would think if they saw me now. Not all my memories of them were pleasant. Back in the day, one of them had
grumbled about me from another room, “I should invite her to the Christmas party, but she’s way too creepy. I heard from somebody that she’s at work
all
the time—and that she wears the same clothes every day.”

At times, werewolf hearing royally sucks.

W
ith
the Long Island werewolves on the prowl and all those kids hunting for candy, Halloween didn’t have the same exciting vibe as usual. At least I knew someone planned to visit my house for something other than slitting my throat. I tried to harness some positive thinking while I sat in the nest with the rest of the cuckoo birds in Dr. Frank’s office. I wasn’t doing too well.

I had a few more days until the full moon. The tides roused the wolf’s hunger in my blood. The animal under my skin writhed and eagerly awaited a chance to spring forth. I hoped Heidi was managing the changing of the tides better than me.

The beautiful rose, wrapped in parchment paper, rested in a bag over my shoulder. As I was getting ready to leave the house, I found myself wishing Thorn would stop by. We hadn’t spoken to each other in a while, and I wished I was bold enough to just call him. With resolve, I closed my bag instead of picking up the phone.

Aggie offered to escort me into the city, but I declined. “The last thing I need is for you to witness the freak show I attend.”

“I’m sure they’re just regular people who have—problems. Hell, I can’t talk with the way I eat every fifteen minutes.”

I glanced at her clothes. She’d borrowed one of my dressy shirts and pulled her hair into a professional bun. Agatha McClure appeared … responsible. “And don’t you have to report in to work or something?”

“I can call to tell them I’ll be late.”

I headed into the kitchen to fetch my keys. “You’d be more than late. I have to drive into Manhattan and stay there for the afternoon. This isn’t a casual day trip.”

“As your friend, I’m not comfortable with you being out alone. We were attacked, and I expect my father to find me sooner or later, which means even more trouble—”

Someone knocked on the door. Aggie paused and raised her nose in the air. “I didn’t hear them approach.”

“Neither did I.” My claws itched to come out, but I got a knife from the block in the kitchen instead. My reindeer blade wasn’t exactly menacing, but I hoped it might frighten them anyway.

Aggie peeked through the keyhole and groaned. “It’s the wizard from last week.”

Nick? What the hell was he doing here?

Aggie headed back into the kitchen and I opened the door.

The wizard, dressed in his usual black ensemble, stood outside with a smile.

“Is something wrong?” I asked. “I have your rose if you want it now.”

He raised his hands. “Oh, it’s not that. If I remember right, you said you’d had some werewolf trouble, so I thought I’d make sure you reached the city safely.”

How did he know I was leaving now? My eyebrows rose. “Did Aggie or Dr. Frank call you about a ride?”

Aggie’s voice floated in my direction from the kitchen. “I didn’t say a thing.”

“Look, I don’t need help today. Head on back to the
city and I’ll see you in a few hours.” I checked behind him, but I didn’t see a car. “How did you get here?”

He grinned and folded his arms. “I have my own transportation. Are you sure you don’t want a free ride into the city? I’m even willing to offer you lunch. I’m assuming you’d have to stop and eat.”

“I don’t know.” What did he mean by “transportation”? That materialize/dematerialize thingy he’d performed back at Dr. Frank’s office seemed all sparkly and flashy, but I’d seen
Star Trek
movies. Some people didn’t make it back when Scotty beamed them home from the monster-laden planet.

He opened his black trench coat. From one of the pockets he pulled out my ornament. “I didn’t want to use this little guy as an incentive.” He examined the round green ornament with plastic rhinestones around the middle. The sunlight reflected facets of forest green on the walls. “You could have this back in your hands much sooner.”

I took a step forward, transfixed. “Or you could give it back to me now.” I reached for it, but he put it back inside his coat.

My heartbeat quickened and I couldn’t suppress a growl. “You shouldn’t tempt a wolf by dangling a bone. Especially a shiny one.”

He laughed. “Well, if you went with me, we could accidentally stop by a few stores. And I won’t tell Dr. Frank if you won’t.”

By the time Nick said, “I won’t tell Dr. Frank,” I’d grabbed my jacket and bolted out the door.

“I have a ride, Aggie.”

Before I slammed the door shut, I heard Aggie yell, “You better come back empty—” With my hearing, I caught every word she said, but perhaps she meant something else.

We walked across the porch to the front lawn, where I asked how we’d reach the city.

“We need to walk over to the field across the street from your place.”

“I thought wizards waved a stick or something and then they magically teleported places.”

He chuckled. “I can do short distances, but those are restricted to teleporting myself. Since you’re my guest, I’ll have to use a jump point.”

Now, as a werewolf, I shouldn’t allow magic and its associated intricacies to surprise me. I mean, on every full moon I sprouted fur and hunted wild rabbits. “What’s a jump point?”

We began to walk across the lawn. The brown, red, and orange leaves crunched underneath our feet.

“In the past, the world was covered in forests, which were full of magical places and towns. As time passed, larger towns and cities were built over those magical spots. Man built buildings and paved roads, but the magical points remained. Whether it was a great wizard or a fairy who charmed those places is unknown.”

I nodded to encourage him to continue. He had a charming look in his eyes when he explained things.

“Wizards like me can use these magical places as ‘jump points’ to teleport between locations. Some of us have staffs and wands to increase our natural spellcasting ability, but the quality ones are hard to come by.”

“Expensive too. We stock that kind of stuff at the flea market. I know we’ve got something rare when the witches turn into crazy vultures.”

We reached the road and walked across. With the lack of traffic, we didn’t need to watch out for cars, but a thicket of trees slowed our progress toward the field in the distance.

“How do you work at The Bends without feeding your habit?” he asked.

I opened my mouth and snapped it shut. I’d never been
asked that question before. “I don’t know. I guess I’m too busy doing my job. In the beginning when I started working there it was really hard.”

He parted some branches for me to cut through. “Yeah, I work at a pawnshop in East Village. I’m not really helping my hoarding either.”

“I’m not a hoarder.”

He paused before he turned back to reveal half a smile. “Ah, yes, you’re a collector.”

“Hoarders have filthy homes with a bunch of garbage. My home is clean.”

“We’re almost there. So that’s your definition of a hoarder, then? Dirty people?”

“No, they’re not all dirty people.” I paused for a moment. The
collector
in me wanted to deny that I should be labeled a hoarder. If I was a hoarder, then I had to be like all those people I’d heard about on TV or in the paper. I’d never be
that
kind of woman, who’s discovered by the police lying under a heap of her own stuff.

“We’re almost there.” He dropped the subject, but a part of me felt ashamed. I knew he had an anxiety disorder. He hadn’t told me or the therapy group what kind it was, at least not while I was there. So far he’d treated me with respect and kindness. (Even after taking my ornament away.)

Beyond the thicket of trees a mile of plowed farmland loomed. The remnants of cornfields lay in the rich soil.

“Are we close?” I asked.

“The jump point’s over a rock near the edge of the field.” He directed me to a five-foot limestone rock that jutted from the ground. My nose couldn’t detect anything magical or otherwise amiss.

“So this is your magical rock, huh?”

“Well, you obviously can’t feel it, but this entire field is charmed. Perfect farming grounds. The farmer even
used this land, even though there’s this troublesome rock in the middle of a plowed row.” He took one of my hands with his dry, yet warm fingers. Then with his other hand he reached for the rock and touched it.

A strange humming vibrated in my jaw and slithered down to my toes. The sensation left me with an uncomfortable chill that raised the hairs on the back of my neck. I yanked my hand away and mumbled, “That’s weird.”

He nodded. “This stone’s imbued with magic. It’s most likely that whoever placed it here masked its scent to keep curious supernaturals like your kind away. I would too if I created a teleportation point here.” He took my hand again and whispered words in an unfamiliar language. The vibrations began again and spread throughout my body. Just when I thought I’d wrench my hand away and pull his arm from its socket, my body jerked and then somehow I
shifted
into another place, almost like walking down a path and failing to see a cliff in the distance. Well, I plunged right off that cliff.

The brightness of the day vanished and turned into darkness. I blinked twice as my eyes adjusted. Within the folds of the shadows, Nick stood beside me. A strong stench of decay cascaded over my nose in waves. My face scrunched up. All this dampness, mildew, and vermin made me squirm. Where the hell had he taken me?

I turned to him and paused in surprise. In the dark, his skin looked different, almost ethereal with a slight glow. When I calmed enough to take a step forward, he walked toward an arched doorway on the other side of the room.

“We’re in an office building basement in Brooklyn. All we need to do now is head upstairs to leave.”

“So you’re saying we’re in New York? Right now?”