Collected (3 page)

A few of the men’s eyes followed me as I
approached the main entrance. Pencil skirts weren’t a part of the
uniform here. I ignored them and stayed focused on the task at
hand. This was easy. I could do it no problem.

Once I got inside the lobby, the receptionist
was another matter. First of all, it wasn’t a woman. It was a
leprechaun—hidden under the heavy glamour of a woman–and it wasn’t
the only one. All around me, from the people in the cubicles behind
the receptionist desk to the mail boy delivering boxes between the
rooms in the back, were leprechauns. It was like a cereal box of
Lucky Charms exploded and magically delicious little people had
taken over.

All of them turned to look at me. And not in
a good way.

The receptionist, or should I say the
leprechaun, stared me down with an expression that said, “How can I
not
help you?”

Working with the supernatural goods at The
Bends had taught me a few things about magic—especially the magic
from creatures like leprechauns. Werewolves like me shouldn’t be
able to see through their magic, but my goblin boss’ sparkly tricks
of the trade had gotten under my skin a bit too much. He had
leprechaun safeguards all over the shop and always complained about
them.

“If a goblin makes a nickel, those damn
leprechauns will be there with their hands out ready to collect 4.5
cents of it,” he’d rant. “And those greedy bastards wanted to offer
me
protection
, ha! My first wife’s peg leg would offer more
protection.”

Ignorance is bliss.
Especially with
what I could see. The leprechaun receptionist leaned forward,
giving me a better view of the top of his head. Short red hair
covered his scalp. Even longer hair grew from his chin and brushed
against his chest. His sneer revealed teeth that had yellowed with
time. When the glint of magic twinkled in his green eyes, I
couldn’t help but swallow with nervousness.

“You don’t belong here.” The words were said
with a strong Irish burr—in a manner that was a fact—not a
warning.

“I-I just came—”

“And now you’re leavin’,” he finished for me.
His nostrils flared, and then I knew my mistake.

My nose was likely as good as theirs. Thanks
to my employer, I probably stank of goblins. As to what it smelled
like—I didn’t know. I was a werewolf who’d cavorted/stock
shelves/handed cold cash to the enemy.

Four leprechauns dressed in business suits
approached the receptionist desk. Whatever magic flared from them
smelled strange, like peppermint mixed with decayed earth. A sweet
death. It drew my curiosity, but also warned me away.

“And now I’m leaving,” I whispered. With a
quick glance, I noticed my target, the compass down the hallway—no
more than twenty feet away. An opportunity missed.

There was no way I could get in there like
this. I backed out, keeping my eyes to the floor, but my wolf
watched them from the corner of its eye.

As I walked out, I weighed my options. The
thought of giving up brushed against my mind, but the driving
needed to claim what was mine swatted that away. I
needed
the Millstadt figurine and the nutcracker. To have them, well, it
wouldn’t complete my collection. Nothing would do that. But they
were something more for me to cherish, to make me feel a little
less hollow. And that damn
zmee
was holding them hostage
just so he could get a few codes that probably didn’t work
anyway.

I couldn’t simply waltz back in the lobby
again. They had shifts twenty-four hours a day, and I’d bet they
were all leprechauns ready to give me the stink eye. The odds were
also against me since I was estranged from my wolf pack. Once I
pulled out of the lot, I knew I had to deal with the hand I’d been
dealt—and that meant asking for help from my little brother.

* * *

By the time I drove back into South Toms
River, the sun had set. The moon was a pale disk in the sky—a stark
contrast to the pink moon, which had bathed the landscape with a
gray cloud cover nearly a week ago. During the full moons, I hunted
in wolf form like any other werewolf, but I had no pack—so I hunted
alone.

I drove straight to the Last Mark Bar and
Grill off Dover Road. The likelihood of my brother enjoying happy
hour was high.

The parking lot was full, typical for a
Friday night. Even in the dimly lit lot, I spotted my brother’s
blue Dodge truck. He’d gotten one of the spots close to the
entrance. Apparently, he’d gotten here nice and early to start off
the fun.

I strolled inside, trying to ignore the
assault of bad smells. This place was like any other tavern you’d
encounter. Patrons sat and drank at a long bar in the middle. Along
the sides in the no-smoking area, not that it was really no-smoking
since smoke spread everywhere, folks ate dinner at small tables. A
few waitresses swarmed around customers with drinks and food. They
had to dance around the more inebriated customers.

I scanned the crowd. So many sounds. So much
foul drink and cigarette smoke. The place was also a haven for
germs. I never ate here. Even when I had been with the pack, I
loathed this restaurant. If I really wanted a burger, I’d eat at
Archie’s, the only local burger place that cleaned to my standards.
When I’d spent more time with my family, we had dinners together.
When Mom didn’t feel like cooking dinner—which was rare since she
practically lived in her kitchen—we used to eat at one of the local
Italian restaurants. That was before fears about what weird stuff I
touched began to ruin any outing with them.

My brother Alex was in a booth in the back,
sitting with two girls. His co-conspirator in breaking girls’
hearts, Miles, sat across from him. As I weaved around tables, I
tried to think of how I’d explain everything to him. I could’ve
called, but face-to-face was a better way of inducing a guilt trip.
I was an expert at making a sad face.
See, Alex? Your sister
needs you. Remember when we used to play with our toys? Yours were
broken, but I thought about you and shared mine?

A few werewolves from the pack sat here and
there in the bar. I avoided their eyes and kept my head hung low. I
was considered rogue among them, but they tolerated my presence.
Why feel threatened by the lowest rung on the ladder? According to
the Code, or the laws werewolves used to govern themselves, they
didn’t have to pay attention to me. I was as insignificant as the
humans.

Alex noticed my approach and nodded my way.
The two girls at the table yelled at him to get his attention while
gesturing wildly, and then they got impatient and got up to leave.
Miles said nothing to them as well. Had the apocalypse come and my
brother lost his sexual mojo?

I couldn’t see the girls’ faces as they left
down another aisle, but a smell remained in their wake. It was
ethereal and sweet. Like the earth magic of that nymph who wanted
to cuss me out this afternoon. Nymphs didn’t frequent where I
worked so I didn’t see their kind often.

When I reached the table, the guys smiled.
Almost like they shared a secret.

“Hey, Alex.” I said.

“What you doing here, Nat?” Alex took a sip
of his beer.

My blond-haired, blue-eyed brother wasn’t
younger than me by much. Just a few years. But that didn’t stop him
from trying to act like he was older than me.

Miles slid out and offered a seat. “Wanna a
drink, Nat?”

The smooth way he said my name was full of
various meanings:
You free tonight? Is that pencil skirt of
yours finally ready to come off?

The answer to all those questions was no—even
though, like Alex, Miles was considered popular with the ladies.
Most of the local women stared at this booth with envy. They
weren’t as young and pretty as the girls who had left, but the lady
cougars on the prowl were willing to snag young prey like my
brother. Older workers from the mills to women in their forties
apparently loved to check out what was hanging on the rack over in
this corner.

“I’ll pass on the drink.” There wasn’t a damn
thing I’d eat in here unless it came in a pre-packaged wrapper.

I sat and Miles followed. The wooden seat was
warm from where he’d sat, and his cologne filled my nose. A rather
nice one actually. Miles was only a few inches away, but it was
hard to not think of him like he was family. I could distinctly
recall when Miles came barreling into the house when we were teens.
He used to be shy, looking down as he asked for Alex. He knew to
respect my parents like a good pup had been taught.

Now, though, there was something different
about Miles. It had been months since I’d seen him. In a town as
small as South Toms River, you’d expect to run into old friends
more often, but I hardly ever saw him. He hung around Alex, but
only in certain places. Ones where I preferred not to venture.

I kept my hands in my lap. They were far
safer there than on the petri dish of a table. It looked like the
server hadn’t wiped off the table that well. I peered at a weird
smear while Miles spoke. “You smell like chemicals. Where have you
been?”

I sighed.
Where do I even begin?

Miles smiled at me, a rather lopsided one
compared to Thorn’s. But Thorn Grantham was long gone. He wasn’t
coming back, either. Thinking about my former boyfriend had come up
far more than I preferred. Still, it was hard not to make
comparisons. Miles had blond hair, like Thorn, cropped close to his
head. His chin wasn’t as strong, but his brown eyes and demeanor
were friendly. It was nice to feel like I was back among friends
for once.

“So what have you two been up to?” I needed
time to figure out my plan of attack.

“Not much,” Alex said. “Just wrapped up a
double date. Went to a movie and then we had a couple of
drinks.”

“What movie did you see?” I asked. And why
did their dates stomp off as if they’d said something crazy?

“Some chick movie they suggested.” Miles
leaned back, trying to see if he could check me out under the
table.

“It wasn’t that bad. I kinda hoped Karey
wanted to head back to my place for dinner again, but she
passed.”

“Yeah, right. Like you wanted to eat dinner.
Instead of watching a movie, you probably wanted to make one.” I
snorted and gave my brother the evil eye.

He didn’t flinch. This wasn’t anything new to
him. “She’s nice and all, but I might be getting bored.”

“When it comes to women, you have the
attention span of a hungry squirrel,” I said to Alex. “And that’s a
stretch. It would be nice for you to grow up and get a nice girl
for once.”

“You volunteering?” Miles asked. “I could use
a good woman to set me straight.”

“Not now. Not ever. There wouldn’t be enough
time.”

“Oh, leave my sister alone,” Alex quipped.
“She wouldn’t put out for you anyway.”

I kicked Alex under the table for good
measure.

The two men laughed.

“Before I forget, I’m ordering the Ramirez
fight on Pay-Per-View. You’re coming over next Friday to watch it,
right?” Alex asked. “I invited some other guys from work, too.”

Miles’ face fell. “I’ll get back to you on
that.” Slight pause. “I got other plans.”

“No biggie.” Alex took a swig of his
beer.

Miles played with one of the nachos on his
plate. He gave off a weird vibe, but I shrugged it off. If their
bromance
was in trouble, I wouldn’t be the one to fix
it.

Three attractive women, all humans, entered
the bar and sat on some stools. The bartender immediately offered
them drinks.

Naturally, my brother and Miles quieted as a
new set of prey snagged their attention. The women were blonde,
young, and tanned. Their scent was faint, but they smelled like
out-of-towners. Ones with money and, apparently, the inclination to
hang out in a small town bar.

“Which one you want?” Alex asked Miles.

This was going to be a long night unless I
said something fast.

“Look, guys, I need your help.”

“Uh, huh.” Alex smiled at the one of the
girls who looked this way. She whispered to her friends, most
likely telling them she’d spotted some hot guys in the corner.

Should I be mean and wrap my arm around
Miles? Maybe give them an evil look to warn them away from their
impending doom?

“If you’re looking for a thrill, I’ve got one
for you. Help me break into a leprechaun factory and take some
pictures,” I said.

Both of their heads swiveled my way. Now that
got their attention.

“You want to do
what
?” Alex asked.

Repeating the details was unnecessary. Their
hearing was just as good as mine.

“I need someone to help me get in and take
the pictures.”

Miles laughed. He took in a mouthful of
nachos and kept laughing between bites. “Not happening.”

“You shouldn’t mess with leprechauns, Nat,”
Alex said. “Even I know not to date one of their daughters.”

“You’d seriously think about banging one of
those chicks? I heard they are ugly as hell,” Miles said.

Alex offered a devilish grin. “I might die
one day. Why not say I’ve ridden every rollercoaster at the
park?”

Ew
. My mind flashed to the leprechaun
who’d threatened me back at the factory. I wouldn’t want to see the
pot of gold at the end of his rainbow. Even with a glamour to make
him look hot.

The women continued to drink at the bar. Two
guys walked up to them and tried to talk. Based on the women’s lack
of enthusiasm, the local boys weren’t faring too well.

Alex’s leg shifted under the table. He
continued to watch them from the corner of his eye, almost like a
cheetah waiting to take out its next meal.

“Nat, I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to
forget about those pics. Those people won’t let us just walk on
in,” Alex said.