Uh, no thanks.
“You smell like blood.” His words were smooth and soft. Almost hungry. His hand reached out to touch me, but he backed away when he heard the others coming.
Alex caught up with us and got into the truck. Miles limped after him. An angry bruise marred the side of his face, but he stilled grinned like the whole thing had been a wonderful adventure.
The truck’s wheels screeched as we raced out of the lot and onto the road. I found a safe spot at the corner of the truck bed, opposite Stan. I wanted to run away. To jump out of the truck and not think about what I’d done and the blood that covered me.
“Nat, you want to change by the side of the road?” Alex asked.
I curled into a ball and turned my head away. My body slowly shook. This wasn’t how I wanted the night to end. Even if I did transform back, I was absolutely disgusting. What the hell clung to my fur? I sniffed my side. The hair had been burned, and my flesh stank of leprechaun magic.
All of this was my price for wanting the nutcracker and the papier-mâché boy. A price that I realized wasn’t worth it.
We made it back to Stan’s house. He jumped out—with his pack of beer—and stumbled into his house. No matter how lonely his life had looked, I was glad to be away from him. He’d probably sleep late into the morning and not have an afterthought of what transpired.
Alex should’ve pulled away, but the shadows around the house seemed to deepen. Become more ominous. The single light from a lamppost barely lit the lot. The willow tree nearby rustled as if a breeze moved through it, but nothing else stirred. A swampy scent flowed through my nostrils, ever so faint. The truck moved to turn around, but I stood and then leapt out the back.
“Nat, what are you doing?” Alex called out.
Fear coursed through me, but the wolf didn’t dwell on such things. I slowly crept toward the thick brush. When I got close enough, I noticed the soil was dry, except for a darkened patch near the tree.
So it was finally time to settle the unfinished business regarding my deal.
I returned to the truck. Alex peered out the open window, his gaze set on the swaying tree.
“I’d hoped we wouldn’t have to take care of this,” he said.
When he didn’t move, I whined. Didn’t he realize I wanted this over with as well? His hands moved inside the truck and I heard familiar clicks. The sounds of a camera’s memory compartment opening and closing. Alex tossed the memory card, safe in a plastic case, into the air and I caught it with my mouth.
“Make it quick,” he murmured. “At least, you won’t talk back as a wolf.”
Dry grass became wet as I approached the tree line. The vodyanoy emerged from the bushes, taking form from a murky pool of water. Its gelatinous body swayed in time with the willow.
“Do you have what I want, Wolf?”
I spat out the memory card on the ground. As to how it would wipe off my slobber and open the case, that was none of my concern. Black water bubbled up from the ground around the plastic case and then swallowed the card with an audible slurp.
“Our business is finished, Wolf.” The water spirit laughed with a sneer. “I suggest you be mindful of what you want to collect in the future.”
I expected us to head back to the bar, so Alex could scope out those girls, but he drove to Miles’ apartment on Main Street. The two men talked, but I couldn’t hear them over the roar of the radio’s rock music. Miles walked a few feet away, then he turned around and came to the back of the truck. He leaned against the side and stared at me. Seconds stretched out, and then I almost saw Thorn looking at me. Their eyes were different, but I had the same fleeting feeling that sucked me in once in a while: longing. A longing for someone I didn’t have anymore.
“Damn, it’s been a long night.” He touched the side of his face and winced. “I think they broke my cheekbone. Well, good looks like these come back every time.”
I snorted—or at least what could be called one from a wolf.
“So you are paying attention to me.”
I turned away, but my pointed ears were still up.
“I haven’t told Alex I’m leaving town next week. I kind of hoped he would take the other job my boss offered him over the phone, but he declined. He said he didn’t want to leave his family. Especially you. Even for the big bucks.”
I sucked in a breath. It was easy to feel alone without my pack. Without my family. There were only so many people who still spoke to me. Who still believed in me.
“You gonna stay like that all night?” Miles asked softly.
He extended his hand toward me.
The gesture was universal. I slowly slinked from the corner and approached him. In his human form, he appeared so vulnerable. In a way, it was beautiful. Germs lurked all over him, but my wolf was in place now and pushed me forward to receive affection.
His fingers slipped through the fur on my flank before they settled on the top of my head. I cringed a bit when he brushed against the bruised skin on my side. How long had it been since someone touched me—like they cared?
“What happened to you?” He reached for my burned skin, and I angled my side away from him.
“I want to say goodbye to Natalya the human, please.”
The change back to human form was a bit easier than the one to wolf.
“You happy now?” I asked with fists clenched. I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t look at anything and not think about how disgusting I was. My heart raced and everything in me screamed for release. A cool breeze brushed against my exposed skin, so I moved to cover myself.
Miles offered me my clothes. “You were a lot braver than I’d expected. I wish I would’ve tried harder to make things work between us.”
I managed a nod and tried to focus on his chin. That would be far more manageable. He could’ve turned me away like everyone else, but this time, I was allowed a moment.
Miles hadn’t been much of a gentleman earlier, but this time he at least tried not to stare at my boobs as I put on my shirt. “I’ve always watched you from afar, but I suspected any attempts I made as your brother’s friend would’ve come off as weird.”
You got that right. I laughed, and the movement hurt my side like hell.
“I didn’t expect you to laugh at that one.” Miles smiled, but then his demeanor became serious again. “Do you remember when we used to play football in your backyard?”
“Yeah.” Those kinds of memories made me feel good inside. Before we’d attended Toms River High School, Miles had come over every day during the summer.
“For the life of me, I still haven’t figured out how you could throw that particular ball and Alex couldn’t.”
I snorted. “He seemed to throw everything else just fine. He even made junior varsity football that fall.”
“Yeah, he had.” He sighed wistfully. “You might find it weird, but during that summer, I saw you as more than my best friend’s sister. You usually kept to yourself, but for once you actually played with us. I’d never noticed it before, but you had the cutest freckles across your nose. And you had an arm like a quarterback bent on the destruction of mankind. Did you really break Harvey’s nose right before school started?”
My face heated with his kind words. I tried to laugh it off. “Harvey? I haven’t heard that name for years. I think I did break his nose. That poor human boy refused to play with us after that.”
Silence lingered between us for a bit. The “what could’ve happened” question would never apply in our regard.
“I’ve been on the market for the longest time now. Why not man up and make your move on me?” I asked.
“I thought about making my move after high school, but you moved away to go to college. Then you were with Thorn, so I suspected I’d never get a chance.”
“I’ll ask again. Why not now?”
“Well, when you went rogue a few years ago, I got the impression you didn’t want to be with anyone.”
So there it was. Misunderst
andings and assumptions about me really were rampant in this small town.
“You should go inside, Miles.” Keeping the bitterness out of my voice was difficult.
“Don’t be like that. Look, it’s not my fault you decided to hole yourself up in your house. It’s your choice to change your life, Natalya. It’s also your choice to open up and make things different.”
When I didn’t reply, he reached for me again, but I flinched.
“Alex would kick my ass for saying this, but you’ll look out for him, won’t you?” Miles asked.
“I’m his big sister. That’s my job.”
“Of course.”
“But I won’t be his wingman to get chicks. I have to draw a line somewhere.”
Miles chortled. “I had a feeling you’d say that.”
I scooted into my skirt as quickly as I could. The parking lot was deserted, but flashing his neighbors didn’t seem like the best idea. Miles looked away. He even moved to block the immediate view from the apartments.
When I finished, I murmured, “You should go inside and get some rest.”
“Take care of yourself, Natalya.”
Miles disappeared into the apartment. No goodbyes. No see-you-laters. Even though Thorn had left me behind, I’d gotten far better treatment from him. From the corner of my eye, I spied Alex starting the truck to take us home.
He’d likely heard everything. The windows were down, and the radio was only so loud.
The truth was out in the open now for everyone to know.
The ride back to my house was a silent one. The truck rocked me in the back, lulling me toward sleep. But I just couldn’t do it. I had to get clean or I’d lose it.
I was itching to get inside, but Alex spoke up. “He never told me he liked you like that.”
“I never knew either,” I blurted. “But it doesn’t matter. I’m not good enough for anyone right now.”
“After everything you’ve been through, are you sure about that?” Alex harrumphed. “For a second there, I saw the sister who pushed me around a few years ago.”
I sighed. That girl faded away five years ago. “Thanks. I think.”
I jumped out of the back of the truck. I didn’t want to think about the past right now. The present was far too stressful.
“Alex?”
He looked at me through his window.
“Thanks for taking one for the team. I appreciate having you around.”
“I’m your little brother,” he said with a grin. “That’s my job.”
The walk into my house was a blur. I didn’t remember unlocking the front door. Or brushing past the walls hidden behind rows of white boxes. The only thing I remembered was how good the shower felt. How good it felt to be in clean clothes. I might’ve lived as a dedicated collector of holiday trinkets, but I refused to be a dirty one.
By the time I was done, it was practically two in the morning. I walked down the narrow hall in my living room toward my kitchen. I was slowly healing from my injuries, but I still planned to march my way back to the zmee’s house with the decoy film. Burned side be damned, all of this madness with the vodyanoy wouldn’t be for nothing.
I headed for the door to the garage, but I heard something strange toward the front of my house, a whisper of movement on my porch. But when I rushed to open the front door, I didn’t see anyone. Just my prize on the floor: the Millstadt figurine. Right next to it was two boxes. One was open and had an empty camera case inside.
The earthy scent of the nymph lingered around my porch. I ventured out and looked around, but didn’t see her. She probably hid in the shadows and waited for the camera.
With a happy skip in my stride, I retrieved the camera, added the regular memory card, and put it into the case. For a second, I felt bad about my deception, but what choice did I have? I made a quick note for the dragon: Talk to the vodyanoy about your camera.
My fingers tingled at the thought of holding my prize. I left the camera in the box but then stopped before picking it up. The least I could do was be polite to the nymph. I had threatened to burn the poor thing’s tree down. I grabbed some pumpkin scones I had baked before my last work shift, put them on a plate, and placed them next to the box.
And now, I could enjoy my victory! I plopped down on my couch and opened the box. Inside laid the papier-mâché doll and the nutcracker. They smelled like holiday spices. Both of them were carefully wrapped in packing paper and looked just as lovingly cared for.
I sighed and held the nutcracker close. I had to believe he’d been worth it. His sweet scent of nutmeg and cinnamon tugged at my senses. I’d take good care of him. He’d wait here every day for me like all the other things I had collected in these containers.
Even if Miles left, and with it, his interest, I’d still have these boxes.
From the far wall in the living room, I grabbed one of the lighter boxes. Delight stirred in my belly. A new addition to the collection. How many did I have now? Over a few hundred? Thinking about how much I hoarded things crushed my thrill, so I pushed the errant thought aside.
I placed the nutcracker inside the box and paused. I’d placed him right next to another papier-mâché boy. A Russian one I’d received a few years ago at one of the most difficult times in my life. I’d lost the pack a few days before I’d received this gift from Grandma Lasovskaya.
I touched his worn face, and a sliver of pain touched my heart. He’d been a catalyst. The first piece in my collection. I quickly closed the box and put it away.
But I could still hear my babushka. Her soft voice was still crystal clear: “My child,” she’d said, “hold onto him. He represents love. My beloved Pyotr fixed him for me after your Aunt Olga tried to break him in half.”
I didn’t need two dolls. I could put my newest trinket in a different box, and he’d be another notch in my belt. Someone special had given me that first piece of my collection. Why not give it back to her? After everything I’d been through, I probably deserved this. For once, my compulsion to keep it faltered. My new prize wouldn’t take away my shame. Miles and Alex could have been killed. Giving something away—just this one thing, mind you—felt good. Especially since I could give it to my grandma, one of the few people who had never left me behind. I could’ve gone to bed, but my decision had been made the moment I picked up one of the dolls.
I’d never tell him to his face, but Miles did have a valid point: “It’s your choice to open up and make things different.”
I had another mission to complete tonight.
The doorstep to my parents’ house was like any of the other Colonials on the quiet street. But somehow, in the middle of the night, it appeared larger. More foreboding.
My hand rose to knock on the door, but I didn’t do it. I wasn’t welcome here like I used to be. Maybe tonight would be different? Maybe my flaws had been forgotten and they’d talk to me like they used to. Grandma Lasovskaya and Alex always had kind words for me, but my mom and dad didn’t feel the same.
Everyone was most likely asleep. Except for my father. He was more powerful than most werewolves. Any noise outside of his house would stir him from sleep.
It was best to just leave my gift with a note inside. I placed it on the doorstep and lightly knocked. Barely a tap. Then I slowly walked down the sidewalk toward my car. I almost missed the faint sound of the door opening and closing. But I refused to turn around. The possibility that the box had been left behind was too painful to think about.
I almost opened the door to my car, but my curiosity was too strong. I glanced over my shoulder and took in the house. The scene made me pause.
The box was gone, and the window on the second floor was open. Through it, I saw my babushka in her nightgown, holding the Russian papier-mâché boy. Her wrinkled face appeared sad, but I noticed happiness in her light brown eyes. A large hand rested on her shoulder. My father. He must’ve fetched it for her.
She blew me a kiss, and I gave her a small wave.
Not on
ly had I gotten my prize, she’d gotten hers back, too.
Did you enjoy Collected?
Want to find out what happens next to Natalya when Thorn returns? Take the next step and read Coveted.
Available now from Ballantine Books!
ISBN: 978-0345-52918-3
eBook ISBN: 978-0-345-53229-9
SOMETIMES WHAT YOU COVET IS IMPOSSIBLE TO KEEP.
For werewolf Natalya Stravinsky, the supernatural is nothing extraordinary. What does seem strange is that she’s stuck in her hometown of South Toms River, New Jersey, the outcast of her pack, selling antiques to finicky magical creatures. Restless and recovering from her split with gorgeous ex-boyfriend, Thorn, Nat finds comfort in an unusual place: her obsessively collected stash of holiday trinkets. But complications pile up faster than her ornaments when Thorn returns home—and the two discover that the spark between them remains intense.
Before Nat can sort out their relationship, she must face a more immediate and dangerous problem. Her pack is under attack from the savage Long Island werewolves—and Nat is their first target in a turf war. Toss in a handsome wizard vying for her affection, a therapy group for the anxious and enchanted, and the South Toms River pack leader ready to throw her to the wolves, and it’s enough to give anybody a panic attack. With the stakes as high as the full moon, Nat must summon all of her strength to save her pack and, ultimately, herself.
Shawntelle Madison is a Web developer who loves to weave words as well as code. She’d be reluctant to admit it, but if pressed, she’d say that she covets and collects source code. After losing her first summer job detassling corn, Madison performed various jobs, from fast-food clerk to grunt programmer to university webmaster. Writing eccentric characters is her favorite job of all. On any given day when she’s not surgically attached to her computer, she can be found watching cheesy horror movies or the latest action-packed anime. Shawntelle Madison lives in Missouri with her husband and children.
Collected: A Coveted Novella Page 5