It had to be the love spell. Tinkerbelle had said it would be focused only on his intended, Maddie. That's why he'd stolen her pen, so the spell would have a direction. But what if something had gone wrong? How precise could something like magic really be? As far as he understood it, magic was an old science; quality control was bound to be a problem. Heck, real scientists made mistakes all the time. The world was an imperfect place, especially when it came to the human component.
Jimmy paused. He needed to test his hypothesis that the love spell was somehow affecting more than just Maddie. He adjusted course. He would head to the Student Center. He checked the time on his phone: he was pretty sure his friends would be there eating breakfast and planning a study group agenda for the next month. He thought he could bounce ideas off them without going into too much detail.
As he walked, Jimmy paid attention to the students and faculty that passed him. He was definitely getting extra attention from almost every girl who noticed him. A couple of times he got more than a smile: one of the girls changed course so that her path would intersect with Jimmy's.
"Hi," she said, making sure to catch his eye.
"Good morning." Jimmy was feeling more confident every minute.
This was unreal. Magic, at least whatever it was Tinkerbelle and Dahlia were practicing, was real. But was it magic in the 'hocus pocus' sense of the word? Maybe it was some form of chemistry. Jimmy knew he had been drugged last night; what he didn't know was what happened after the drugs kicked in, what the spell actually entailed. Yes, he had woken up with chicken blood all over his body, but what if that was just so much showmanship? What if the actual meat of the spell was some herbal concoction that Tinkerbelle rubbed on him? An herbal rub, or even better, a drink could have altered his pheromone profile – he could literally smell different. Jimmy raised a forearm to his nose and sniffed. Ugh. The only thing he could smell was the tang of chicken blood, but that didn't prove anything because pheromones weren't overtly detectable. They were an invisible chemical soup that was one of the bases of physical attraction.
"Hey, you! In the pink pants," a voice called out.
Jimmy looked over his shoulder. A tall blonde was heading in his direction. Jimmy was convinced if you looked up 'sorority girl' in the dictionary, you would find this girl's picture. Her hair and clothes were impeccable, even at this early hour. She had smooth skin, green eyes and thick hair. Jimmy gulped, his newfound confidence wavering at the attention from the beauty in front of him.
"They're salmon," Jimmy heard himself say automatically.
"You know what? I think that you're right. They are salmon." She gave Jimmy a dazzling bright smile. "I'm Lydia." She held out her hand.
Jimmy, in a daze, brought his hand up and shook her hand. "J . . . Jim . . . Jimmy."
"Wow, Jimmy, you have soft hands," observed Lydia. "I love soft hands."
Lydia didn't let go of Jimmy's hand, and he thought he might just explode. It felt like his body was filling up with boiling water.
"So, Jimmy, what are you doing tonight?" Lydia asked, her voice hopeful.
"Tonight?" Jimmy repeated.
"Yes, tonight."
"I . . . I'm not sure . . . I hadn't really thought about it." Jimmy was trying to be cool, but it wasn't working.
"Well, Jimmy, I know exactly what you should do."
"Ye . . . yeah? What's that?" Jimmy squeaked.
Lydia pulled a flyer from her purse and handed it to him. He took it automatically.
"My sorority is throwing a small house party – more of a barbeque kind of thing, very casual, off campus tonight," Lydia explained, sliding up to Jimmy and tapping the paper in his hand. "I want you there." It wasn't a request; Lydia was demanding Jimmy's attendance.
"Of course," Jimmy agreed at once. He would have walked through fire for Lydia, the blond goddess.
"Excellent," Lydia cooed. "Jimmy, this invite is for you only. No date, okay?" Lydia's fingers gently stroked the top of Jimmy's hand.
Jimmy nodded like an idiot, not trusting that his voice wouldn't crack.
"Excellent. Let's exchange numbers, just in case," Lydia suggested.
Jimmy once again fumbled for his phone. He watched Lydia enter her information, his head buzzing in shock. Two numbers. Jimmy had gotten two numbers in the space of ten minutes from two super-hot girls.
Lydia handed Jimmy's phone back. "I am looking forward to seeing you there," she said, leaning in to kiss Jimmy on the cheek.
All the blood rushed from Jimmy's head and his body tilted alarmingly to one side, but he caught himself, jerking awkwardly to keep from falling. He smiled feebly, knowing that he must look like a total spaz. Lydia didn't seem to notice or care. She flashed another huge smile at him, turned on her heel, and walked purposefully away.
It took Jimmy a minute to get his legs to obey the command to walk. He kept glancing down at the flyer, assuring himself that it was real. All thoughts of asking Maddie to coffee were gone. She was pretty and cool, he thought to himself, and he would make time for her if he could, but if the spell had gone haywire and he was now able to attract women like Lydia, he wasn't sure there would be time for Maddie.
The Student Hall was packed with people. He spotted his friends, Bryan, Gervais, and Tim, at a crowded table in the middle of the room. The three of them had their phones out and were focused intently on the screens. From the jerky hand movements and quick thumb taps, it was obvious they were playing a video game.
Losers.
Of course, on any other morning, Jimmy would have been playing right along with them. But this wasn't any other morning. This was the first morning of the new and improved life of Jimmy Tobin – a life that he was finally going to take charge of, with the help of a little magic.
"Hey, guys," Jimmy greeted his friends, as he pulled a chair up to join them.
"Tobin, aren't those the same clothes you were wearing yesterday? And did you forget to comb your hair this morning?" asked Tim.
"If I didn't know better, I'd say Jimmy-boy got lucky last night," scoffed Bryan.
"Yeah, right," said Gervais, smirking.
"I'm not the loser with my nose in a video game, when there's a room full of women to talk to," snapped Jimmy.
"Really?" said Bryan. "And you're suddenly an expert on the ladies, are you?"
Instead of answering Bryan, Jimmy took a deep breath. Here goes nothing, he thought to himself. He looked around the room and caught the eye of girl two tables over. He waved. She smiled and waved back.
Yes!
Jimmy turned back to his thunderstruck friends, a giant dopey grin on his face.
"It's a trick," said Tim.
"Yeah, how much did you pay her?" asked Bryan.
Jimmy expected as much. They were going to need more proof. He noticed two girls walking toward the table with trays of food.
"Hi," said Jimmy in a loud voice.
He noticed Gervais cringe at the bold move. Bryan looked nervously down at the table, and Tim's mouth dropped open in surprise.
The two girls looked over at Jimmy and slowed down. They both smiled.
"Hi yourself," one of the girls said.
"My name's Jimmy."
"I'm Cathy, and this is Julie," the girl smiled, clearly enjoying the attention from Jimmy.
"I just wanted to wish you two a great day," said Jimmy.
"Thanks. My last name is Dewitt, I'm at Jackson Hall. You should call me later," Cathy suggested.
"And she has my number, if you want to call me," Julie added.
Cathy's head snapped to the side, and she gave Julie a disgusted look before stalking off. Julie grinned at Jimmy one more time, winked, and then followed her friend. When Julie caught up with Cathy, they started arguing.
Jimmy turned back to his friends, clasped his hands behind his head, and leaned back.
"What the hell, Jimmy?" said Bryan.
"Yeah, what gives? And I want a detailed explanation," Gervais said, still watching Cathy and
Julie argue.
Jimmy grinned, but kept quiet.
"Did you sell your soul to the devil or something?" Gervais asked.
Gervais's question caught Jimmy off guard. Jimmy didn't believe in the devil. Heck, he didn't believe in the soul. He believed in consciousness, but that wasn't something that could be quantified or sold to some fictional supernatural force. Of course, up until about an hour ago, he had thought magic was a bunch of crap. What if there was something to the whole god/devil thing?
What if magic wasn't an arcane offshoot of chemistry? What if there was a more sinister power behind it?
Nah.
That was crazy.
He would go into research mode today and start cataloguing the evidence behind what he was sure would turn out to be a hard, practical science. Until then, he would sit here with his friends and bask in his new coolness. It was going to be a great day.
CHAPTER 9
Jimbo-Pink-Pants didn't do anything exciting or at least nothing magical. I made sure to leave a nice buffer between us, so he wouldn't get suspicious about the big, scary-looking dude following him. I was able to study his appearance a little closer as we walked across campus. He looked . . . rumpled was the best word I could come up with to describe him. It looked like he'd slept in his pink pants and his blue button-down shirt, as they were seriously wrinkled. Using my super sniffer, I could smell a coppery undertone wafting from him – blood. I assumed it was the chicken blood that Lucy had gotten so worked up about. She had said I'd be surprised at how much trouble someone could cause with chicken blood, but this guy just didn't look like a threat.
With his wrinkled clothes, messy hair, and the way he carried himself – sort of introverted and closed off – he looked more like somebody in need of a spa day than like a magical outlaw.
As I trailed behind him, I began to notice that he was drawing attention to himself. Not on purpose, but people were definitely staring. Maybe it was the pink pants; they were pretty hideous. Then it occurred to me: there were no guys giving him a second look. It was all women. I paid closer attention. Yep, the ladies of Stanford were giving Jimbo-Pink-Pants the once over, and from the smiles on their faces, they were liking what he was presenting.
Odd.
I watched as one of the cute coeds in a green bandana changed the direction she was heading, stopping in the middle of the path, almost as if she was waiting for Jimbo to bump into her, which he almost did.
I listened with more and more surprise as she flirted with him. I could tell from Jimbo's tone of voice and aura that he was as confused at the attention he was receiving as I was.
I watched as coed after coed smiled and did their best to get Jimbo's attention as he walked by. There had to be something I wasn't aware of. Maybe Jimbo had done something to get himself noticed – a viral video of him saving a basket of kittens or something like that – because it was clear he was a popular campus star.
A tall, no-nonsense looking blonde hustled past me; she was making a beeline for Jimbo. I slowed down. The blonde looked more like the CEO of a start-up tech company than a college student. She would eat Jimbo alive. I couldn't help myself. It was fascinating. If I'd had popcorn, I would have sat down right where I was and let the drama play out around me.
Jimbo looked like a deer about to be smooshed by a semi-truck. With my excellent shifter hearing, I could hear every word and uncomfortable pause. The blonde, Lydia, invited – shanghaied would be a better description – Jimbo to a party that he agreed to attend immediately. Jimbo might be dabbling in the dark arts, but he was no dummy.
After the lovely Lydia departed, I followed Jimmy to the Student Center. They were still serving breakfast and the smell of food started my stomach grumbling. Jimbo had joined a bunch of guys at a table, so while keeping my eye on him, I got in the food line and piled two plates with eggs and pancakes. I planted myself a few tables away from Jimbo and his friends and concentrated until I could separate out their conversation from the rest of the chatter. Once I was satisfied I wouldn't miss anything important, I started eating.
Jimbo was acting like a peacock, strutting his ability to smooth talk the coeds in front of his friends, He was kind of a dick about it. The reaction from his tablemates told me that this behavior wasn't normal. I wondered if there was a spell to help a person be more confident. That seemed like something chicken blood might be able to pull off.
One of Jimbo's friends, a tall, skinny black guy with glasses, asked if Jimbo had sold his soul to the devil.
I stopped in mid-chew.
After everything I'd experienced since the night Elyse and her mom showed up at my house, I didn't think the question was that farfetched. What had Jimbo gotten himself into?
My phone buzzed, drawing my attention away from Jimbo and his friends. It was Lucy, but she was calling not texting.
I picked up the call, "Yes?"
"Where are you?" Lucy asked, she sounded excited.
"I'm following Pink-Pants and I think he—"
"You need to meet me now," Lucy interrupted.
"What happened?"
"Dahlia spent all of twenty minutes in her room. She took a quick shower and then downed some kind of potion—"
"Potion? Like, a magic potion?" If magic potions were a thing, it was news to me.
"It's called Alchemy." I swear I could hear her eye roll. "Stop interrupting. So, the potion is obviously some sort of pick-me-up restorative, because she comes out of the dorm looking like a million bucks. I follow her to a coffee shop just off campus, and bingo, she's meeting up with Maddie Sinclair." Lucy paused, clearly waiting for my reaction.
"Maddie Sinclair?" I repeated, giving me time to think. "Oh yeah. She's one of the students that survived the crash, the one we haven't checked out yet. That's great. Two birds, one stone. If Dahlia is swigging magic Red Bulls, she must be our recruit, right?"
"That's what I was convinced of, until I saw Madison," said Lucy.
"Why? What's up with Madison?" I asked.
"You need to get over here now. You're not going to believe it," said Lucy. "I'll text you the address."
"Hold on. What about Pink-Pants? There's something weird going on with him," I said, glancing back at Jimbo and his friends.
"Forget about him," said Lucy. "We'll follow up later if you think something's off, but right now you need to get over here."
I'd never heard Lucy so worked up before. I was interested to see what could get her that way. "Okay, you're the boss. Where am I headed?"
According to my phone, the coffee shop was about ten minutes away. Well, ten minutes at shifter speed, which I used in bursts when nobody was looking in my direction. I glided to a stop at the coffee shop door. Through the large front window, I could see Dahlia sitting at a table to the left of the door with a woman, who I presumed was Maddie. Lucy was at a small table at the back of the shop, a large mug of something steamy sitting in front of her. She caught my eye and flicked her head for me to join her.
When the shifter protein hiding within my DNA had been triggered by Elise during our first epic make-out session, the transformation to my human form had been kind of drastic. I was big. No, calling me big didn't do what my body had become justice – I was humongous. The days of me casually entering a room or blending into a crowd of people had ended after the first time I had shifted into bear form. I didn't have that weird unnatural look that some bodybuilders get where they end up looking wider than they are tall. My height to muscle ratio was proportional; there was just a whole lot of me. And people, being curious, tended to stare when they first met me.
I stepped into the coffee shop trying to act cool, pretending that every set of eyeballs in the place weren't locked on me. I did chance a glance at Dahlia and Maddie's table, Dahlia had the look of a woman who had just spotted a dish of her favorite dessert. Maddie had more of a wide eyed look of surprise. Yeah, I got that a lot. I walked straight back to Lucy's table and took a seat, the wooden chair creaking under my weigh
t.
"Well, you do know how to enter a room, I'll give you that," said Lucy, chuckling.
"What?" I said. "All I did was walk in."
"It's not how you walk. It's the vibe that comes off of you," Lucy explained. "It's a combination of dangerous, aloof, and just a bit sensual."
I didn't know how to respond. I wasn't trying to be any of those things. "I was shooting for relaxed dude, meeting a friend," I said.
"I think the days of you ever coming off as 'relaxed dude' are over," said Lucy. Then, reacting to my frown, she added, "But that's the vibe most shifters give off. You just seem to have an extra dose of it, and your size only adds to the effect."
I sighed. "I guess I'll just have to get used to the fact that, even in human form, I'm a scary monster."
Lucy laughed. "Orson, you need to pay more attention. While there are a few people in here that look a little . . . put off by you, there are others that are staring at you like you're their favorite flavor of ice cream."
It felt like the temperature had just shot up a few degrees.
Lucy laughed again. "You should see how red your face is. You can't tell me that you don't know how hot you are? Most women – and some men – would totally hit that," she chided.
The witch wishes to be ravaged, take her – now.
Uh, not gonna happen.
"Can we change the subject, please?" I asked, pressing my fingers against my forehead in a vain attempt to strangle the voice inside my head.
Why do you stay your hand? The witch smells delicious –
Stop.
Stop.
Stop.
No more of this kind of thinking, understand?
As you wish.
"Orson, are you okay?" Lucy sounded concerned.
"Yeah, sorry. The idea that I would be looked at that way . . . it . . . I don't know, it freaks me out," I tried to explain. "I'm not shy or anything, but that kind of attention, it's just – not something I'm used to."
Lucy patted my arm reassuringly. "That's because you're a nice guy. Sorry I teased you. Now, switch on those crazy Ollphiest senses of yours and take a gander at our friend Dahlia and her tablemate."
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