Coveted

by Shawntelle Madison

  By the time I entered with some empty bowls, most of my mother’s helpers had left to enjoy the festivities. A perfect time to decompress. The place wasn’t in that bad of shape, so I pulled on some rubber gloves and decided to start rinsing out the bowls in the sink.

  “How you holding up?” Aggie stood in the doorway with a plate in her hand. She took a bite from her food, which of course I wasn’t surprised to find with her.

  I chuckled. “You know, you could’ve left your plate on the table.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Oh, c’mon. Instead of saying, ‘Why, thanks for the concern,’ I get read the riot act for carrying a plate of food with me?”

  “Well, you could’ve waited until you finished to come find me.”

  “Werewolves don’t leave leftovers. So back to my previous question. How are you doing?” Her last question was a little garbled due to an additional bite of sauerkraut.

  “I’m handling things. The dress makes me uncomfortable, the odor from the urn during the ceremony made me want to pass out, I can’t stop thinking about the banishment, and Thorn didn’t come to the wedding. But other than that I’m super.”

  There, I’d said it. Thorn hadn’t come. Aggie’s date, Will, had, so I’d kept hoping that Thorn would too. But so far, there’d been no sight of him. The words he’d whispered in the forest constantly played in my mind.

  You may not see me but I’m always around.

  Just not today. Not when I actually needed someone who was more than a friend to me.

  “You don’t smell anxious. I’d say you’re hanging in there,” Aggie said.

  I stared at the dirty utensils and bowls in the sink. The urge to clean them thoroughly beat against my skull. To push the temptation away, I took off my gloves and turned to Aggie. “You never told me what happened to you after we stopped hanging out five years ago.”

  Until now, I hadn’t wanted to ask her anything. From what I could recall, one of my aunts had asked her once and Aggie had never really answered.

  “There isn’t much to say. I went back home to my dad’s place.”

  “Yes, but something else happened to you, Aggie.”

  “Why do you want to talk about it now? We’re at a wedding.” She placed her food on the white counter and leaned back against it.

  “Seems like a perfectly good time to me. After all, you’re not going to run away, not while there’s so much food around. And, well, your father called again and left another message.”

  She glanced at me for a moment and pursed her lips in thought. “Did you talk to him?”

  “Yeah, I told him I hadn’t seen you.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Now that you owe me one, what happened to you?”

  She stared at the gray tiles on the floor and I waited for her to speak. “Not long after you left, my father arranged a marriage for me. And not a good one either. A rather shitty one.”

  I touched her hand. “Oh, Aggie.”

  “His name was Victor. Some rich asshole out of Pittsburgh with connections all over the place. My father hadn’t discussed it with me either. During dinner one evening, Victor showed up with flowers and an engagement ring.”

  I couldn’t speak since I thought I knew what direction this tale would go. Unfortunately, I could sympathize.

  “Out of respect for my father, I didn’t say anything when Victor placed the ring on my finger and kissed me. He smelled like a cold eel dunked in Brut cologne.” She snorted. “He was quite the character, with his black suit and slick black hair. I even thought him handsome—until he opened his damn mouth.”

  She paused, so I pressed her. “But what happened after you two got married?”

  “Victor told me that, ever since my father had sent him my picture, he’d loved me. Said he had a thing for redheads. Before I moved in with him, he showered me with expensive gifts the likes of which even my father never gave my mother. But all of it was bait—bait to chain me up in his penthouse as his breeder.”

  In shock, I clutched my dress. Her mother had lived such a life. Aggie had never let me forget that fact during camp. While everyone else opened up about their problems, Aggie was too embarrassed to talk about the dirty little secret among the more affluent packs—the practice of forced breeding for the high-ranking females. In an ideal situation, many strong sons would create a powerful legacy, but for Aggie’s mother years of miscarriages had left her a bitter woman.

  “So you ran away from him.”

  “I ran away from what he represents. Control. A wife who was no more than a mate, who would stay trapped in an ivory tower and breed his bratty pups.”

  I nodded. I didn’t want to push anymore to learn of her life at Victor’s penthouse, but I was curious about something in particular. “And the fighting? The arrests?”

  She laughed softly. “So you heard me when I told Will, huh? Those were rebellion. Rebellion against the control my father exerted. Against the control Victor tried to have over me. You’d be surprised how far you’ll go when people tell you what you can and can’t do.”

  I reached for her and pulled her into my arms. At first she was stiff, but eventually she hugged me back. For a second, I wasn’t sure what to say. After everything that had happened to me, I’d come to depend on her. How I hoped I wasn’t holding her here—indirectly controlling where she’d go.

  “You can stay as long as you want,” I whispered. “Not that you’re safe here, but I do like the company.” I hugged her tighter.

  “Are you sure you don’t need this hug more than I do?” Her voice was quieter. A bit sadder.

  I never answered her. For a moment, it felt easier to just worry about my best friend and not myself.

  The party ended a few hours later with werewolves dancing with full bellies. And a bit of liquor made their dancing much more lively. According to my aunt Olga, it improved with every beer.

  I tried to join in the festivities, to laugh at the jokes, but my heart tugged painfully. I’d been cast out of the territory. Unless the pack members came to visit me, I’d never see them again. For that reason, I never got up to dance.

  At the end of the day, the immediate family stayed behind to clean up the mess. As we gathered up the soiled plates and vacuumed the floor, I realized how the event had come together.

  “Peter, could you fetch me another garbage bag?”

  He headed into the kitchen and returned to hand it to me. Then he went back to work with no snide comments. I hadn’t even thought about it until I mumbled, “Thanks.”

  “No problem.”

  After all I’d been through, Aggie was right. Things had taken a turn for the worse, but things had also changed. And it was up to me to continue down this path and make my life better—with or without my family.

  The last of us trickled out of the club. The sun hung low in the sky and cast an orange glow over the building. I strolled out and spied a man in black leaning against a car. He waved.

  I couldn’t help the grin that snuck onto my face. I pointed to myself and mouthed, “Who, me?”

  He rolled his eyes as if to say, “Duh. How many werewolves would have a wizard show up at a wedding they’ve attended?”

  As I strolled up to his rental vehicle, I couldn’t help but feel a bit pleased to have someone waiting for me. My face warmed. Was that the reason I walked faster, touched my upswept hair to see if anything was out of place?

  I noticed something different about him too. For the briefest moment, before I approached him, I detected his quickened heartbeat. A few pitter-patters before he slammed down a wall of magic.

  When I came close enough to see his eyes, I tried not to feel insulted by his behavior. As long as I could see through his ruse, he could play the dark knight all he wanted. With a stern voice, he asked, “How long do you expect to skip out on therapy?”

  “When I’m no longer getting assaulted by rival werewolf packs, I’ll be ready to laugh it up with my therapy group.”

  He ignored my c
omment. “I’m not letting you back down from your exercise with me. When things slow down for you, I’ll be back.”

  I rolled my eyes, yearning to get out of my bridesmaid dress. “It’s not safe to be with me right now. I’m in a bit of a bad place.” My gaze darted to the empty street around us, searching for danger.

  “You let me worry about our safety.”

  Was that before or after I had to carry him back to my house from our last trip?

  “I mean it, Nat. Even if I need to come armed, I’ll escort you to your therapy.” The wizard had a look in his eyes that dared me to question his power.

  I sighed. Other than packing for my departure, what plans did I have? Maybe therapy would help me move on with my life. “Let’s get this over with. Pick me up at my place tomorrow.”

  Chapter 20

  The next dreary day, a white wizard, dressed in black, knocked on my door. I wasn’t surprised that Nick didn’t suggest using a jump point. With a smile, I noted the car in the driveway. “No jump points, huh?”

  “Even I’m not dumb enough to tempt fate again.” Nick jostled the keys in his hand. I never thought I’d see a wizard with a Mazda Miata. The small roadster didn’t exactly fit with the whole gothic-wizard thing he had going on.

  “A wizard with a car. I guess magical folks need rides too.”

  Through the downpour, we rushed to the car. I waved goodbye to Aggie, Will, and another guard, who stood at the door.

  “Just because someone has magical powers doesn’t mean they don’t try to live normal lives. You act like I spend all my time in a dungeon turning frogs into slaves to help me cast spells for world domination.”

  “Frogs?” I said. “I don’t think they’d make the best slaves. I suggest rabbits. Much more agreeable as slaves.”

  I didn’t expect him to open the door for me, but he did. He also didn’t have a drop of rain on his body.

  “You don’t have an umbrella,” I murmured.

  “I don’t need one.”

  He climbed into the car on the other side. The vehicle had that new-car smell and made me wonder if it was a rental. Then a rental company flier on the floor confirmed my suspicions.

  “What’s this about a guise of normalcy? How can you say magical people want to be normal? After all, you just showed me you can stay dry in the rain.”

  “So what you’re saying is, you like the smell of wet wizard?”

  “Wet wizard? Like wet dog?”

  He shook his head, and flashed that smile of his. I couldn’t resist smiling back. Even with the head-to-toe black, he had an easy way about him that made me feel good.

  At first, our ride into Manhattan was silent but we eventually eased into a conversation, and a topic I hadn’t expected to talk about: my previous jobs.

  “You’ve had all kinds of jobs, but you’re saying you’d never work in a fast-food restaurant?” he asked.

  “As someone with cleanliness issues, working with dirty pans and greasy food would be a panic attack waiting to happen.”

  Along the roadside, I saw the signs of the never ending rain—the gutters flowing with water and leaves covering them. He adjusted the windshield wipers as the wind picked up.

  Nick said, “For two years, I was low on cash so I had to work in a restaurant. It was the only job I could find.”

  “Why not just use magic to make money?”

  He rolled his eyes. “There are limits on what wizards can do. Unlike warlocks, who can perform black magic, white wizards are restricted to selfless deeds of heroism.”

  “I guess that rules out my master plan to make counterfeit money with you.”

  “Yep, and anyway, most shop owners have these cool markers now that can detect fake money. Next thing you know, the markers will be able to detect fake magic.” He smiled. “So, like I said before, I worked at those horrible places. I tried to find employment at stores that sell magical stuff but they didn’t have anything for me. Most of the magic folk got hit in the early nineties during the magical recession.”

  “Magical recession?” Now, this was news to me. I sold goods to supernatural creatures, but none of them talked too much about their own world. All this new information about a magical economy drew me to learn more. For all I knew, they had a stock exchange and their very own branch of the IRS to screw them over.

  “I’m sure you’ve seen some filthy restaurants. Well, the one I worked at had a clean area up front for the customers, but the back was another story. How they kept the roaches and bugs away from the tables …”

  I cringed and scrunched my nose. As my mind formed images of Nick standing horrified in the kitchen, it was clear that the story was heading to a bad place.

  “My first night was the worst. The night-shift manager made me the dishwasher. While I was cleaning food off the plates, I saw roaches scurrying across the floor.”

  I mewled and squirmed. “Oh, that’s just wrong.” A wave of unease crept up my spine.

  “I nearly dropped the plate I was holding. I’d seen the filth—the dirt on the counters and the dried-up food on the floor—but I’d hoped they kept the place at least clean enough to stay up to code.”

  “Did you leave right then and there?”

  “I wanted to, but I couldn’t afford it. I had an apartment and bills to pay. And by that point, I had so much stuff I didn’t want to move it.”

  I gazed at his profile. He had an inner strength I wished I possessed. “How did you survive your first day?”

  “I prefer to avoid medication. But back then, I needed it to feel like a normal person. Either way, sometimes you have to face your inner demons. You know what I mean?”

  I nodded and turned away. He had a valid point. But facing my demons meant trying to find a way back into a pack with a leader who didn’t want me. At this point, I saw any efforts I could make as futile.

  I contemplated my situation in silence as we rode across the bridge into Manhattan.

  By the time we reached Midtown, it had stopped raining, and the sun peeked from the cloudy sky, warming us, though only briefly. The chill of autumn had reached New York.

  “I’ve already picked out a pawn shop in Brooklyn, if you don’t mind,” said Nick.

  “No problem. If it’s someplace new, that’ll be for the best. I know the stock in my favorite stores too well.” Especially whether they had any new ornaments. I tried to shove my dark thoughts aside and prepare myself for the exercise.

  I’d forgotten what it felt like to drive around New York. After spending so much time in the country, the place felt uncomfortably alive. But I still missed it.

  After driving around the block twice, Nick finally found a parking spot between two delivery trucks.

  We left the car and headed toward the shop. Along the way, we passed several other stores. Even with the doors closed, I could smell the inhabitants inside. My senses drove me nuts on days like this. As we trotted past an Asian food store, I salivated as a clerk wrapped a duck behind the counter. I could imagine the succulent, gamey meat on my tongue.

  “Hey, you coming?”

  I hadn’t realized that I’d slowed to a near stop in the middle of the sidewalk. I caught up with Nick and murmured, “It’s that time of the month.”

  “Oh,” was all he said.

  “Not like that.” I tilted my chin to the sky. “It’s that time of the month for all werewolves.”

  His mouth formed another “O” and nodded. Why did every guy—the ones who knew I was a werewolf, that is—assume when I said it was that time of the month that I meant a woman’s monthly cycle? Well, it wasn’t as if I mentioned the subject very often. When I said it to Bill, he simply nodded and replied, “So that’s why Mrs. Ferguson kept sniffing the other customers.”

  We turned on a side street I hadn’t ventured to before. Brooklyn is a large borough, and I hadn’t explored every nook and cranny. When I’d lived in Midtown five years ago, I’d seldom left Manhattan.

  Earl’s Fine Antiques had an
old wooden storefront with an awning covering the sidewalk. Two large, junk-filled bins sat in front of the window. I thought leaving containers out there was just begging people to steal stuff, but as I approached I detected the scent of magic in the air. The owner had placed a protective ward on the bins. It was a mental push for customers to behave. The heavy scent of cinnamon left me wary, instead of eager to pick up the merchandise.

  But once we entered the shop my mood changed. I knew the feeling all too well: It was the eagerness to buy something new, the delight in finding an untapped source, new territory in which to find gems for my collection.

  Even with the low lighting in the store, I could still see the superb quality of the merchandise. No castoffs like The Bends. Fine leather-bound books lined the far wall, while another had tall glass goblets full of potions. A few bubbled and gurgled as I passed by.

  The wonders continued as we walked deeper into the store. I spied a section with a glass case of jewelry. Not far away, a marble chess set moved on its own. For a second, I wondered if I’d ever see an ornament—until I caught the glint of shiny baubles on a circular table.

  When I reached out to touch an ornament shaped like a cupcake, Nick crossed his arms. “You can wipe the smile off your face now. We’re here as an exercise. Remember?”

  “Of course. We’re here only to look—and to resist temptation.” I sighed and glanced at the Christmas lights on display. It wasn’t Thanksgiving yet and they’d already put the Xmas signs up. I guess the magical world likes to hit its customers nice and early too.

  As we ventured on, I tried to quell the rising joy in my belly. My eyes roamed everywhere, searching for more. I didn’t care if Nick said this was an exercise. If I came upon another ornament, he’d have to pry my claws off it.

  Nick led the way with his arms crossed. He appeared calm and stoic but I sensed urgency under the surface. From the drop of sweat on his temple, I knew he wanted to shove me out of the way and dart to the checkout line.

  When we’d first entered, I’d envied his demeanor. He walked around like he didn’t have hoarding tendencies. But our progress came to an abrupt stop when I ran into his back.