by D. R. Perry
“Really?” My eyebrow raised in a skeptical arch, more Bones than Mr. Spock.
“Technically, whoever tried to do this could go ahead and aim a big magic gun at you. But since those spells are pulled strongly by parallels like that other girl who died in 1938 and the woman in 1976, it’d be likely to fail and backlash all over again.”
“Jeez, I’m glad I’m majoring in Alternative Therapies and not Magic Theory.” I leaned my chin on one hand. “Sounds like a mess of trouble waiting to happen.”
“Magic can be that way. Why else do you think they’d have schools for it? Psychics have it easier, but one thing they teach in every magic-related course here is to keep meticulous records for the heavy payload spells.” Blaine waved the growing cloud of smoke away from his face. “That was one of the reasons so many practitioners were down with the licensure program. They’d been writing everything up already. It’s also why bad eggs are so rare amongst Magi. Since records like that are essential for survival, it’s too easy to get caught unless you're good at covering your tracks. And it takes a Psychic to do that with any certainty.”
“So if Bobby and I don’t have much to worry about in the future, why did you want to talk about this?”
“You’re sharper than the oldest cheddar in the world.” Blaine sat back and folded his hands in front of him. “Whoever it is might decide to take their frustrations out on your friends. I kind of have a vested interest in that.”
“No kidding.” I chewed my bottom lip, aware of the problem Blaine hadn’t mentioned yet. “There’s also their bigger plan. The reason they tried to make Bobby flunk out in the first place still exists. If the baddie is focused enough, he or she might skip any revenge attempts.”
“Maybe, but probably not.”
“Why?”
“Because evil is as evil does.” Blaine sighed, shaking his head. I noticed he had circles under his eyes. “Whoever did this has a petty and personal imagination. Someone focused would have knocked out the school’s power or taken out an essential resource like the library. Maybe even knocked a hole in the Nocturnal Lounge at midday. Straight-up acts of Extrahuman terrorism.”
“I don’t know if I should be relieved or not.” It surprised me not to have a visceral reaction. All I felt about Blaine’s news was numbness. Deciding how to think about it wasn’t such a stretch.
“Go ahead and relax for now.” Blaine packed up his books. “Like I said, you won’t be the target next time.”
“Doesn’t matter. If you need help, you can find it here.” I chewed my lower lip. “Also, if anything else like this happens to you or any of Bobby's friends, I’ll go straight to the Headmistress. I think she’ll have to listen to me, all things considered.”
“Thanks, Lynn.” Blaine stood. “Let’s get your things out of the room. Then you should go upstairs and hit the hay.”
“Good call.” I yawned as I got up and followed my friend, and then his advice.
Chapter Fifteen
Bobby
The scent of hot coffee met my nose, making me aware of the warmth all around me. I turned my head, feeling the soft fabric of my pillow against my ear. More scents over the coffee drove me crazy—mint and something sweet. I opened my eyes.
“He lives.” Lynn’s lips didn’t move, which was just as well since Blaine was the one speaking.
“Uh, I need to get decent over here.” The sheets twisted against my bare legs.
“You ran halfway down the street naked last night, and you’re still modest?” Lynn smiled. She put the coffee down on the nightstand and grabbed a pair of shorts from the foot of the bed. I took them and pulled them on under the sheet, then sat up.
“Did I miss it?” The clock said eight in the morning, but I didn't know what day it was.
“Nope. You’ve got an hour.” Blaine leaned on the doorframe, as fresh as a dragonish daisy. His partial-shift scales and eye color had vanished. “Get dressed, get fed, get grades. Let’s go.”
“Coffee and water first.” I took the paper cup and sipped from it. It was like a magic elixir of wakefulness and exactly the right temperature for hot coffee. I breathed the aroma and took a bigger gulp. Once fortified with a little caffeine, I pulled on my robe and shuffled down the hall. Five minutes later, the coffee was gone, and I was dressed. I headed to the dining hall with my roommate and my new mate.
“Had a dream last night.” I slipped my arm around Lynn’s waist.
“Oh?” Even though it was just one syllable, her voice came out all quavery.
“I’d say you were in it, but it was all you.” I felt her arm slide under the back of my jacket and around my waist. “Nothing and no one else.”
Lynn turned her head, slowing her pace as she looked up at me. She missed the curb when she turned to face me and I caught her, sweeping her into my arms. She threw her arms around my neck and hugged me tighter than anyone ever had before.
In the dining hall, we had breakfast and a flashcard review. I breezed through the material almost as easily as Lynn. Having a brainiac for a mate was awesome. The new connection between us helped me know when I’d gotten something right. We left together, Blaine staying behind because his exam started after ours.
Watkins was at the door to the lecture hall, eying each student as he or she passed. He held what looked like a magnifying glass. I knew it was a magical device that detected contraband cheating methods. A few of our classmates stopped to show him registry sheets for their magical and mundane assistive devices. In my pocket, my hand brushed against Henry’s yellow registry slip. I’d have to remember to throw it out later. Then again, maybe I’d keep it for posterity or something.
“Good luck, Tremain.” Watkins peered at me through the glass, then at Lynn.
I smiled, realizing I didn’t need well-wishes from anyone. I’d gotten together with Lynn, and we’d made our own luck. We had to sit two or more seats apart, but it didn’t matter. Once I had the test, my pencil flew over the scantron sheet as easily as my dad used to vault into the ring. It definitely hadn’t been effortless, but it seemed that way. All the work had gone in ahead of time.
I wasn’t the first one done. Lynn had that honor, of course. Still, I handed my test in before three-quarters of the rest of the class. Watkins did a double-take when he realized it was me. I waited for him to regain his composure, then watched him point at a block-lettered card to his right.
“Grades will be in your email by six o’clock tonight.” I sighed as I read it, relieved that he’d let us know so quickly. Professor Watkins was harsh, but he cared. I’d begun to notice that trait in others a lot over the weekend.
Outside, I watched as Lynn threw a snowball at a familiar head of spiky blond hair. Josh whooped and spun around, scooping up his own handful of snow to fling back. The sound of Lynn’s laughter carried a comfortable joy, even if it got cut off by what turned out to be an epic snowball fight. A sleepy-looking Tony showed up and joined in, along with Josh and two other guys, both with classic Italian looks but much bulkier than the cat shifter.
We flung snow at each other until our stomachs told us it was time for lunch. I waited in the dining hall for Blaine, and then for Lynn after her lab practical. I saw Jeannie stop her on the way in. They spoke briefly, then Lynn shook her head, and Jeannie smiled much more genuinely. I hadn’t seen Jeannie being that obviously kind since she and her kin had come to help Dad and Momma after the accident. She’d been eleven back then.
“What was all that about?” Blaine pushed some books out of the way to make room for Lynn’s.
“Just Jeannie asking whether I’d be staying at PPC.” She didn’t meet my eyes.
“What?!” Blaine blinked and stepped backward, nearly falling over. He was more shocked than I thought dragon shifters could get. I was right there with him, too. My stomach felt like it had been in a runaway elevator to the basement.
“Don’t freak out, you guys.” She blushed as she set her books down. “I’m not going anywhere. In fact, I
signed up to stay on for a Winter Inter-session course.”
“I wasn’t freaking out.” Blaine’s eyelids went back to their usual half-mast. “Neither were you, right, Bobby?”
“Nope. Not even a tiny bit.” The breathless laugh that escaped my lips said otherwise.
“Look, it was a thing I thought about. But that was so last week.” She hung her jacket on a hook on the side of the booth. “Are you guys coming back after New Year's Eve?”
“I would, but there’s nothing for me to take.” Blaine sighed almost wistfully. “I’ll just be over in Newport, though. If you need dragonish help for any reason, I can send my driver for you, or have him bring me here.”
“I think I might.” I slid closer to Lynn on the seat, letting her cuddle against me after she sat down. “There’s a math class I’d have to take in the spring otherwise.”
“Good.” Lynn leaned her head on my shoulder. “Henry texted me, by the way. Apparently, he might need my help for that huge job he’s been working on. I’m not sure why. Here, have a look.”
“Huh. Weird.” I took her phone and read the text, wondering what he meant about a roommate. I shrugged, and she smiled. Regardless, we’d find out after New Year's Eve. If Henry would be around too, it’d be fun.
By five, the sun had gone down, and the Night Creatures had just set up in the extra seating area where their class would present their final projects. I saw vampires, Changelings, and Tony settling in with notecards and posters. There was even one group with a fanged puppet that looked vaguely like Count Von Count from Sesame Street.
“They’re loud, huh?” Lynn gestured at the band, then crunched cereal as they warmed up, leaning against me in a booth.
“Extremely. But they’re also really good.” I put my arm around her, feeling like I’d been with her for years and we’d only just met, all at the same time.
We sat through all the presentations before it was their turn, then the dulcet strains of Garlic Sucks Less Than Us met my ears. I felt Lynn’s sides shaking with laughter as she watched me lip-sync all the lyrics I’d learned by heart the night before.
When it was over, everyone in the dining hall stood up to applaud and cheer. Even Blaine did a golf clap. The bass player went to the PA and turned the master volume down. Then he went to the mic and cleared his throat.
“This one was popular back around when we all got turned. Enjoy it. Two, three, four!”
I heard a riff that was familiar from my early memories of Dad’s fighting days. I threw my head back and laughed, hugging Lynn tighter. Night Creatures was playing Blink 182's All the Small Things, which used to be Dad’s entrance music. As soon as she recognized it, Lynn sang along with me.
Shifting Gears
A Providence Paranormal College
Short Story
Shifting Gears
Blaine
In the alley next to The Brick End, I took a deep breath, then exhaled to get what I hoped was all the remaining smoke out of my system. Smoking’s illegal at eating and drinking establishments in Providence, even dragon smoke. None of the cops here would care about my Harcourt pedigree if they thought I’d lit one up, either.
I didn’t bother adjusting my clothes or hair. Dragon shifters don’t have to worry about those things. Well, technically neither did any other type of magical shifter, but since everything in that department besides Tanuki and yours truly were extinct, it’s a fine point. In any case, I found myself stalling instead of heading inside. My hesitation remained an utter mystery, however.
Leaning against the cold brick, I contemplated and found no answer. But I’d sort of expected that. We don’t live lives of expository plot, tied up in a neat little bow of conclusion. We exist as if we’re walking down a street, putting days one in front of the last instead of feet. On that note, I figured it was time to either put up or shut up. I opted for the former.
Rounding the corner toward the door, I shoe-gazed instead of looking where I was going. First mistake of the evening.
“Oof!”
I’d elbow-checked somebody solidly enough to displace my center of gravity. The ice underfoot gave no quarter to my fashionable snow boots and I went down, tangled up with my unknown and unintended victim.
“Fewmets!” I spluttered, bits of ice flying from my lips.
My hands and feet fruitlessly scrabbled against ice or dug into snow. I’d fallen, and I couldn’t get up. Fortunately, I’m a dragon of the fiery variety. I thought of warm things until the ice and snow around me melted, then I stood up and evaporated what remained on my clothes and skin.
“Blaine Harcourt!” The guy on the ground let out a barking sort of laugh. He got up, snow clinging to his flannel-clad forearms and acid-washed shins. “Should have known I’d see you here. Playboy Blaine, love ‘em and leave ‘em, right?”
“What?” I put my hands on my hips, the question stoking my ire. You go missing for one hour with one Psychic at one party during your first week on campus, and nosy werewolves make assumptions forever. “I’ve never been to one of those speed-dating things in my life.”
“Yeah, sure, fine. Whatever.” Josh Dennison dropped a wink but grinned a little too widely. “So, you going in or what?”
“Um.”
I almost didn’t since the werewolf’s low opinion of my reputation rankled. But it was cold out, and I had no other plans besides rattling around my mother’s house in Newport like the last pea in the can.
“All right. Brains before beauty, then.” Josh reached toward the door, but I got in his way.
“Brains, my tail.” I walked in before him. Being outsmarted by a mere mortal at the end of Fall semester hadn’t done my ego any favors.
Inside, garish pink decorations hung from every available surface in one corner of the bar. Pink tablecloths draped three round tables with numbers in the center. Pink's the worst color ever, an eternal fence-sitter, neither blazing red nor stark white. The Brick End wasn’t brickish at all, but it sure looked like the end of something.
“It’s the end of the world.” The statement was growled through clenched teeth.
“As we know it?” My response came out automatically before I knew the speaker’s identity.
I turned my head to find Tony Gitano, the most untrustworthy cat shifter I’d ever had the displeasure to meet. With his father's Mafioso gang running a brisk Extrahuman Black Market out of Olneyville, most people thought an honest cat shifter was as mythical as a unicorn. He sat on the bench near the door, wrapped in his ever-present black trench coat.
“Hey.” Josh just sat down next to Tony like it was no big deal for wolfy dudes to hang out with feline people. He asked the cat, “How are you?”
“I feel fine.” Tony turned his head and looked at me from the corner of his eye.
“How can you feel fine?” I rolled my eyes and talked with my hands like the good Italian boy Tony wasn’t. I figured he could use the mockery. “Cats and dogs sitting together equals mass hysteria!”
“Yeah, and if you want to have a go at this speed-dating thing, you ought to sit down too.” Josh jerked his thumb at the space on the other side of him. At least he didn’t want me to sit next to Tony.
Glancing around for some concrete sign that this was, in fact, the place, I saw it. Taped to the wall above Tony’s head was a Xerox with text and a big arrow pointing down, making the cat man look for all the world like an RPG quest-giver, or maybe a Sim. It read, Wait here for your Speed Date!
My hands clenched into fists, not because I wanted to punch anyone, but because I really love digging my nails into the palms of my hands for no good reason. I sat down. Almost immediately, a blonde woman with stick-straight hair, frosted pink lip gunk, and tracts of land far larger than I generally preferred bounced over.
“Here are your numbers!” She took her time smoothing a number one sticker on Josh’s shirt, giggled when she stuck number two to Tony’s trench coat, then wrinkled her nose and handed me the sticker that said number three.
“Hey—” I started, but she trotted away before I could protest too much about the unequal treatment.
The undecorated side of the bar was full of people watching Extrahuman College Basketball. That explained why it was just the three of us guys here for the Speed Date. I faked a yawn, trying to be subtle about checking for the missing piece of this puzzle and got a grumbled “Watch it” from Josh. I’d elbowed him by accident, but I’d spotted the ladies.
A redhead my height leaned against a wall next to Bianca Brighton, a Psychic Medium I recognized because of her purple hair. A blonde sat nearby with her nose in a copy of Dragon's Blood by Jane Yolen. I scratched my head, trying to figure out who’d come to a bar and hide in a trade paperback.
“Hairballs!” Tony stood up, pulled the number two sticker off his chest, and stuck it on the seat. “Gotta go.”
He ran for the door like a cat out of hell. Josh blinked after him, then turned and shrugged. I shook my head, peering at the redhead and then the hidden blonde as though I’d suddenly acquired x-ray vision and could see through the book. But that was stupid. Concentrating on another sense, I used my nose to identify the two ladies I hadn’t met.
Shutting my eyes helped me pay attention to what my sense of smell had to say. The redhead smelled like Faerie, the Unseelie kind. She had long hair with plaits in it, which I liked, but a solid and muscular build that was the opposite of my type. I turned my schnoz on the blonde, except that once I got a whiff, I realized she was a shifter, and I had met her after all.
“Okay, guys.” The hostess’ voice made me open my eyes. The ladies sat at the tables already. She sent Josh over to Bianca and seated me with the blonde shifter. After that, she set a timer on a red digital clock.
