Coveted

by Shawntelle Madison

  Alarmed, Aggie and Alex jumped out of their seats to race toward the front door My parents and Grandma scrambled to follow them. Alex reached it first and thundered outside. I peered over Aggie’s shoulder to see Karey next to Alex’s Dodge crowbar carving into the side. I scrunched my face as she screeched, “I hope you enjoyed your dinner with your little whore!”

  With her task finished, she jumped into a car with another nymph behind the wheel and peeled away. A fuming Alex stalked over to his ruined truck while we surveyed the damage from the curb.

  In her thick Russian accent, I heard Grandma read the words carved into the side. “Eat shit and die, you cake-sucker.”

  No one bothered to correct her error. Thank God.

  My mother placed her hands on her small hips and spoke sternly in Russian. “Alexander Fyodorovich Stravinsky. What the hell just happened here?”

  “Mom, call the police, please,” he pleaded.

  With a stern face, my father returned inside, I hope to find a phone. But since the cops were humans, what could we tell them? Especially when the report should include how my brother’s truck had been keyed by a pregnant tree nymph with a crowbar.

  * * *

  I squirmed in my leather seat while Dr. Frank, a white wizard psychiatrist, assessed me the next afternoon. “After our talk yesterday I think you would do well with CBT as well as my group therapy sessions each week. You responded well to it the last time we worked together.”

  I remembered all too well what CBT, or Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, included. I’d have to confront my obsessions head-on and learn to avoid my compulsions. Then through group therapy, I’d have to talk about it. From past experiences with Dr. Frank, I knew the therapy worked. After going through three months of aggressive therapy and a regimen of medicines, I’d found myself with a new job in New York City as a content editor. I would’ve stayed there too if I hadn’t broken down after Thorn disappeared. On days like these, I couldn’t believe I’d regressed just because of a man. But at the time, Thorn and Aggie were the only people who’d believed in me.

  “I don’t think group therapy is necessary right now,” I said.

  The white-bearded wizard leaned back in his chair. His light gray eyes stared me down as if he could see every crack he had to fix. Over the years, Dr. Frank and this office hadn’t changed. I’d sat in this same chair back when I was a teen. Before my little collecting habit began, I used to wash my hands—a lot. A clean thirteen-year-old with a mother who preferred clean hands in her kitchen was one thing. But my repeated tasks were enough to make any parent wary. Especially the ones where a werewolf teen couldn’t manage to leave the house without sanitizing every surface. So my parents took me to Dr. Frank. Since werewolves have such a souped-up immune system, we rarely needed physicians. In my case, though, I had a problem that couldn’t be fixed easily. With nowhere else to turn, my parents tried magic, a source my mother despised. Thank goodness, Dr. Frank was a great psychiatrist and wizard. He had an arsenal of options that didn’t require magic to outright alter his patients’ behavior. In the end, he’d recommended that I spend the summer with other werewolf teens at Camp Harold.

  Dr. Frank broke the silence. “You have problems with relationships. I think that’s due to your obsessive-compulsive behavior. Didn’t you tell me your family still doesn’t interact with you?”

  I shouldn’t have told him about that. I found a minuscule crack on the wall and focused on it. “Yes, I did. But last night was a—first step toward some kind of healing process.” A first step—on Jupiter, perhaps. Its citizens were full of hot gases.

  I looked for another distraction, and my gaze moved to the rows of leather-bound books behind him. I smiled when I realized that every one of them was in alphabetical order, without a single trace of dust. Did Dr. Frank have a diligent secretary, a great sorting spell, or some obsessive behaviors of his own?

  “I have a great group of individuals, and they offer each other support, which can be hard to find in the supernatural community. Fortunately for you, we have a meeting tonight. Why don’t you find a place to have a bite to eat and come back for the meeting?”

  I nodded reluctantly. Dr. Frank knew best.

  He interrupted me as I stood. “And Natalya?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’d like you to come back without any shopping bags this time.”

  Damn, he was good.

  I arrived in Dr. Frank’s conference room a few hours later—without any bags. Of course, during my trip out into the mecca of trinkets that was Manhattan, I’d managed to avoid most of the shops that had once been my favorites.

  That old wizard sure knew how to torture a woman.

  Eight seats formed a circle, with the large mahogany table moved to the side. A lovely setting of fresh coffee and doughnuts sat on a small end table. Two people stood next to it sipping coffee. I took a seat, but peeked briefly at them. Both smelled of magic, in particular the woman with the soft chestnut-colored hair. Her voice came out as a whisper. The man who stood behind her towered over everyone, at over six feet-plus, but his shoulders hunched as if he were trying to occupy less space.

  A few others entered the room and sat down as Dr. Frank filed in behind them.

  “Good afternoon, everyone. Nick told me he’s running late, so let’s sit down and get started with introductions since we have a new member.”

  Of course, everyone’s eyes moved in my direction. I gripped my purse and recrossed my legs. If they kept this up, I’d start tapping my heel against the wooden floor.

  It wasn’t as if I’d never been here before. I recognized at least two faces from the group. Quite unfortunate to see them here. Raj, a minor Indian deity with multiple arms, had a lesser form of OCD. I couldn’t see his true form through his glamour, but from the gloves on two of his hands, I knew the poor man continued to wash them at every possible opportunity. Another familiar face was Heidi, the mermaid with thalassophobia. She hadn’t lived in the ocean since the age of twelve. Her six-pack of Evian water rested in the pocket of her backpack. I guess you gotta do what you gotta do.

  The new faces, though, made me wary.

  Dr. Frank took one of the free seats and placed his hands on his knees. The shininess of his leather shoes distracted me before he spoke.

  “I can sense high anxiety in the room, so let’s relax for a bit before we go through introductions.”

  The door suddenly opened and a man joined us. Another wizard, my nose told me. Not a powerful one with great magic—just your average white magic–casting wizard. He murmured a brief “Sorry” before he plopped down in a seat. His black trench coat matched his shiny black shoes. He definitely had the lack-of-color thing going, with midnight-colored eyes and hair. A goth wizard? Had I missed a trend circulating the Northeast?

  Our gazes locked briefly before Dr. Frank worked his magic. A wave of calming energy flowed from the psychiatrist through the room. I thought he would’ve made a great snake charmer. The wolf within me folded into soft jelly. Smiles formed on everyone’s faces.

  A moment of embarrassment hit when the goth wizard and I exchanged a glance. Not the best way to meet someone new—with a blissful, cheesy grin on your face. Especially when their grin was attractive.

  “Good. That didn’t take long. We have someone new among us today.” He smiled in my direction. “Natalya, could you introduce yourself to everyone?”

  On a temporary high from Dr. Frank’s magic, I told everyone my name, and then everyone else followed suit. The tall man I’d seen earlier was Tyler. He lived as one of the rarely seen supernaturals, the earth-dwelling dwarves. Due to their normally short stature, they tended to keep to themselves, so I didn’t see his people very often. Either way, I didn’t need a psychology degree to see the potential problems with that guy.

  A Muse named Abby sat quietly on the other side of Dr. Frank. She didn’t look at anyone and simply mumbled her name. The poor thing appeared withdrawn and tormented.

  L
ast came Lilith, a succubus who for some sad reason didn’t come off as a man-eater to me, and finally the late-comer, the wizard who introduced himself as Nick. I couldn’t figure out his problem, but it would show itself soon enough.

  Dr. Frank began our therapy with an open conversation. “Last week, we talked about urges and how we suppress them to prevent anxiety. Does anyone have any success stories to talk about or incidents they want to get off their back?”

  Heidi the mermaid leaned forward. “Friday didn’t go too well.”

  Dr. Frank nodded to offer encouragement.

  “I had an offer for a date with a really nice guy I’d met at the fish market. But after I learned he was a fisherman, I dropped him like bad bait off a crooked hook.”

  The succubus smirked. “At least someone asked you out.” She’d applied so much foundation I wondered if the circus had come to town.

  “I’m not in the mood for your negativity today, Lil,” Heidi snapped.

  Lilith stared at the ceiling while Heidi continued to discuss how her fear of the ocean had led to relationship issues. “I haven’t seen my family in decades, and the medication isn’t working. I’m wondering if I need to consult a water witch for suggestive hypnosis.”

  “How have the exercises gone?” Dr. Frank asked.

  Heidi frowned. “Poorly. I think I need a partner for the next one.”

  “I don’t mind helping you out,” Raj said.

  “Good job supporting each other. Natalya, how was your week?” Dr. Frank looked in my direction.

  Where should I begin? “My life isn’t going as planned.” Others nodded around me. “My problems have complicated my relationship with my family.” I paused, trying to collect my thoughts. It was weird for me—usually my mouth kept going on its own. “I wish I had more dates too. Not that I’d invite someone over anyway to see all the boxes I have stored there.”

  Raj coughed, then wiped his gloves off with an antibacterial wipe. He used an off-brand that tore too easily. I should recommend a better one to him after the meeting.

  Dr. Frank addressed me. “Anxiety disorders do have an effect on the family members of the sufferers. But with an open mind and dialogue, you can make progress toward resolving your issues.”

  I smiled and nodded at his words.

  “So you’re a hoarder?” Lilith asked. Before she spoke, she winked at Tyler. He quickly glanced away as I grimaced. Again that word “hoarder.” People these days used it like a curse to sling mud at people like me.

  “I collect certain things.” After I said it, I realized I hadn’t even convinced myself.

  Between lips smeared with garishly red lipstick, she said, “If you’re up to your armpits in trash, then you’re a hoarder.”

  Nick snorted. “Like you have room to talk, Lilith. You can take your hand off my knee, by the way.”

  From her seat beside him, the succubus sighed and removed her hand. The she-demon desperately needed a fill-in on her manicured mess.

  I finished with, “Like everyone here, I have problems I need to face.”

  Dr. Frank took a sip of coffee and pointed to Lilith. “You seem to have a bit of animosity today. Did you complete your exercises this week?”

  “Yes, I did. And they all failed. Not a single guy wanted to go out with me.”

  I had to bite the soft tissue of my cheek to prevent my potty mouth from informing her of the obvious. If that woman was using magic to catch men, she was as defective as a backward doorknob.

  “We talked about this. You need to adapt to your new circumstances,” Dr. Frank said.

  I wanted to add that perhaps she should stop trying to hunt men to drink the essence of their soul. But that wouldn’t add to the cohesive, supportive environment that Dr. Frank wanted to build.

  “She can’t help herself.” Tyler stared at the floor. “Just like I can’t help it that I’ll never find a dwarf woman to appreciate who I am.”

  Now, Tyler was an unfortunate sight. The guy could easily have been one of those underwear models plastered on huge billboards in Times Square. But somehow, the cosmic soup of genetics had created a man with the body of Brad Pitt. Who’d have thought?

  Heidi laughed, her voice melodic. “Tyler, with a body like that, you need to widen your horizons.”

  I piped in with, “I second that motion.”

  For the next twenty minutes, Dr. Frank went over exercises for everyone in the circle. Knowing that some of the assignments might be difficult for some of us, he paired us up with buddies.

  He told Heidi that she’d have to make another trip to the beach, even if only to feed the seagulls bread. Her partner, Tyler, had to touch base with other dwarves in a public setting. When Dr. Frank turned my way he said, “Natalya, I think I’ll have you work with Nick this week.”

  My gaze shifted to the wizard across from me. For some reason, I focused on a single fleck of silver in his right iris. It flickered like a blinking star.

  Nick blurted, “But I thought I always worked with Zac.”

  Dr. Frank sighed. “Zac had a setback this week.”

  “But he made great strides last week.”

  “I thought so as well, Nick. But a warlock who casts spells every time he sneezes can get himself into a bit of trouble.” Dr. Frank tapped his empty coffee cup and it vanished. “And the binding spell therapy doesn’t work well during the high pollen seasons.”

  Nick nodded. “I’ll give him a call, nonetheless, to check on him.”

  Among all the misfits in the room, Nick really stood out—he just didn’t seem like one of us. He sat up straight and his gaze bore directly into you. If he had anxieties, they didn’t show on the outside. And most of the folks in the room had quirks related to anxiety disorders. My curiosity got the best of me and he caught me staring. I glanced away, but not before he offered me a small smile.

  “I’d like you two to take a weekend day to exchange an item of value with each other. You will return it to the other person at the next meeting. The key is for you to part with your personal property and then really think about whether it was necessary for your day-to-day survival.”

  What kind of exercise was that? Didn’t matter. I was sure I could find something in my home I could pawn off on the wizard.

  “Thanks. That should be it, everyone. I’ll see you during your private session with me during the week. Hopefully, the next time we talk as a group everyone will have made forward progress.”

  Everyone stood so I did too. From across the room, I heard Dr. Frank say, “Oh, Mr. Fenton?”

  Nick paused at the door. “Yes, sir?”

  “Make sure Ms. Stravinsky gives you something holiday-oriented. And in a box.”

  As I walked out of the room, I gave Dr. Frank the evil eye. Damn, that old wizard knew me too well.

  Nick waited for me outside the office. The white wizard leaned against the hallway wall. “Do you have a phone number or e-mail address I can use to contact you?”

  As I approached him, I detected a scent I’d never smelled before. It tickled my nostrils like cinnamon. “We don’t really have to exchange stuff this week. We could try it next week if you like.”

  From the face he gave me, I knew Nick wouldn’t let me wiggle past the assignment. Teaming me up with him was yet another smart decision on Dr. Frank’s part.

  I fished in my purse and pulled out my card from The Bends. “Here’s my contact information at work. I live in Jersey.”

  He nodded and placed the card in his coat. “I’ll be in touch this weekend.” With a brief flash of light, he shimmered out of existence.

  The drive out of town allowed me to drift away on a cloud. The endless towns passed by, and I used the time to think about the positive aspects of my life. I had a home and a job. Okay, this should be where I come up with a vast list and go through a Christmas Carol moment where I learn that things are going my way. But I couldn’t.

  Thoughts of a job and a home only went so far when you had a pack of killers on y
our heels—and the man whom you thought was the love of your life belonged to someone else.

  Chapter 9

  For the first time in years, I almost didn’t make it to work on time.

  The culprit wasn’t an attack from the Long Island werewolves or my plan to hide all my ornaments from Nick. On my way to work I passed a garage sale. And those heartless people had put all their Christmas stuff out for sale. Their loss was my gain.

  Eager to initiate the hunt, I pulled over to the side of the road and joined the other early-morning shoppers.

  The house was a rickety one off the side of the road, with dirty old shingles dangling off the roof, warped siding, and a porch large enough to host a Stravinsky family reunion. They lived not far off the highway and had plenty of parking spots on their run-down lawn. Of course, the condition of their home didn’t deter me from stalking their goods. I gingerly walked across their muddy lawn, undeterred in my goal to reach the house.

  At first I tried to walk in the street, but for the sake of not turning into roadkill I’d spotted on the side of the road, I braved the curb to reach the wares.

  Part of me pleaded with myself to get back in the car to reach work on time. The urge to check my watch nagged at me like one of my little cousins. But when I spotted a whole table full of holiday cheer, a pleasant feeling swept over me. A stirring in my senses, just like when one enters a bakery full of cakes and candies. Your mouth waters in anticipation of holding a warm treat in your hand.

  I felt that way when I reached the table. Eager. Excited. Elated. For a second, I was worried that an elderly lady was going to beat me there, but her destination turned out to be a rack of ugly hats. I would never buy a hat owned by someone else. For all you know, the previous owner might’ve been carrying the black plague in their mullet. Especially with hats labeled “I got me a virgin fer Christmas!” Right next to a dirty, holey hat that read, in large letters, “Jersey Bred and Jersey Truckin’.”

  Before I even touched anything, I assessed the cornucopia on the table. I had a limited amount of time, and there was plenty to keep me occupied. I had the eye of an antiquarian, but the restless hands of a five-year-old at a candy store. Without conscious thought I snatched a Christmas print Crock-Pot cover, two Frosty the Snowman oven mitts, and a set of broken Christmas lights. (They were labeled as “broken,” but if I find the time I’ll get them fixed—someday.)