Kept (3 page)

He stared at me in a way that made me uncomfortable. “Alex said something about you needing help and how he couldn’t do it since he’s busy preparing for the baby’s arrival. So he asked me to train you for the trials and I said yes.”

I sighed. “He never planned to help me at all.”

“Why would you say something like that?” Thorn indicated I should follow him to the track.

“You don’t see what he’s trying to do? Get us together here alone?”

He shrugged. “We’re both adults. It’s not like we don’t know what we can and can’t do.”

Then he glanced briefly at my shoes: a pair of running shoes that hadn’t left the shoe box until fifteen minutes ago. “Have you ever run in those things before?” he asked.

I rolled my eyes. “I have to dress up for work every day. That means heels, not sneakers.”

“Do you do everything in heels? Never mind, don’t answer that. My mind went to the wrong place real fast.”

I suppressed a smile and tried not to follow his mind into the gutter. It wasn’t easy though, with the way his T-shirt clung to his body. My fingers itched to trace a line along the rock-hard abs under his shirt.

“Are you ready to face the trials?” He took in my appearance, and I wondered if he was thinking that the battle with the Long Island werewolves had damaged me permanently in some way. It had, but not in the way he probably thought. I mean, let’s keep it real here: Who could get through a fight to the death in which you watched the man you loved get stabbed in the heart and not walk away just a little bit frazzled? Especially someone in my fragile condition.

“I’m hanging in there. I’ll do just fine.” I waved my hand as if I wouldn’t bat an eye at what he had in mind today.

He studied me. Maybe he didn’t believe me. But instead of brushing me off, he began his spiel. “Let’s get you started with the endurance stage. You need to show you’re capable of a ten-mile run.”

“Sounds easy enough. I’ve run that far many times during the full moon.”

His hazel eyes went to slits. “In human form.”

My mouth dropped open then snapped shut.
Oh
. I tried to remember the last time I’d run
anywhere
when not in wolf form. As a werewolf I had honed senses and a powerful physique, but I knew that in my human form I wasn’t in the best physical shape. I was a size six, but that was mostly due to my skinny Russian-girl genes. (Which my mother loved to remind me would disappear after I had kids.)

“I’ll do fine.” I left him behind and jogged down the track. Would he follow me? I turned briefly to see him sitting down on the bleachers to watch my progress.

“You’re not coming?” I asked.

“You have the pace of a were-sloth participating in the Olympics. You’d slow me down to the point of aggravation.”

After a few minutes, and a few laps (I wasn’t keeping count), I became winded. As I passed him I asked, “How am I doing?”

“You need another lap to complete one mile. At the rate you’re running, I could go pick up a breakfast sandwich and still make it back before you’re done with your ten miles.”

“A mile?” I glanced at my watch. It had taken me eight minutes to do less than a mile. I had to be in better shape than this if I was going to survive the trials. But my chest burned and my shins ached. As a werewolf, I
sucked: Like all werewolves, I had natural agility and speed, but evidently endurance wasn’t an automatically included ability.

By the time I completed three miles, I was reduced to walking. I avoided Thorn’s eyes each time I passed him. Why stir up his animosity?

Thirty minutes later, I plopped down on the other side of the track and lay between the lanes. All this torture and I still had a long workday ahead of me.

A shadow passed over my head. It was Thorn. “This’ll be a long week for you. Expect to be here at four a.m. tomorrow.”

“Don’t athletes get a day of rest between events?”

He snorted. “A day of rest is for people who exert themselves. See you bright and early tomorrow, Nat.” With that he walked off the track and disappeared into the woods.

A part of me warned myself not to watch him walk away. But I couldn’t help it. Between training for the trials and wanting Thorn, the trials would be far easier for me to deal with.

My group therapy day was usually Tuesday. A regular schedule made my life, or should I say my stress level, a lot easier to manage. But at this difficult time, with the trials coming, my therapist thought it’d be a great idea to shake things up and have us meet on a Friday. In his phone message last Friday, Dr. Frank explained that he wanted to put me in a new situation to help me learn to accept change. He had sounded cheerful, but his good cheer didn’t help me much while I scrambled to rearrange my work schedule.

I told myself that now that I’d had my first “official” day of training, I should spend more time working to improve other aspects of my life. Even though I’d been
thrown yet another curveball, with the added Friday session, at least I was on the path to normalcy.

Since I wasn’t on the Long Island pack’s hit list anymore, it was safe for me to drive to New York City, a somewhat pleasant drive on an early winter day like today. Dr. Frank’s Manhattan office was located not far from Central Park. The building appeared to be no different from any other in Midtown. Matter of fact, the regular folks who walked by every day had no idea that inside the ordinary-looking building was a bunch of supernatural physicians and their practices.

I’d been to this building many times before I’d officially restarted therapy with Dr. Frank a few months ago. I’d first come here with my parents back when I was a teen. Mom and Dad had settled into the flow of the city easily, and no wonder, they’d lived here many, many years ago. Perhaps through their eyes, the city hadn’t changed much at all from when there had been horse carriages and Model Ts in the streets. But for me, New York City had been a frightening place.

After growing up in a small town like South Toms River, the city that never slept was too bustling and dirty for me. Even Dr. Frank and his office had been intimidating. The only thing I knew at the time was that I had a problem—and my parents felt it was bad enough for me to seek out magical help.

As I drove past a street vendor selling Eastern European food, I couldn’t help but think about that first trip. How after I barely survived my session with my therapist, my father had stopped at a cart very similar to the one I now passed and bought me some piping hot piroshki. I remember how the outer breading melted in my mouth while the ground beef within had been spiced to perfection. The whole time, Mom had grumbled about me not needing therapy. But Dad simply bought me the food and told me not to worry about her. He promised
me everything would work out. All I had to do was look forward to more
piroshki
when we came back for my next therapy session.

As I walked up to the building now, I couldn’t help but think:
If only such memories could make therapy any easier
.

The office, up on the fourteen floor, had the cleanliness of a hospital. It smelled germ-free and had a large waiting room with lots of seats. I went straight past the receptionist to the meeting room, and before I even walked in the door I smelled the welcome scent of coffee and fresh pastries. Dr. Frank liked to keep his patients as happy as he possibly could under the circumstances.

The meeting room had been set up for us, with the chairs forming a circle. Off to the side was a small table with refreshments. For the sake of my sanity, I’d arrived comfortably early this time, and the first thing I did was search for my friends.

I spotted two other members of my therapy group: Raj, the minor Indian deity, and Tyler, a dwarf. Raj nodded my way like he always did. Therapy session wouldn’t be the same without Raj clutching his antibacterial wipes. Like humans, I couldn’t see his multiple arms, but I bet his hands were covered with gloves to keep the germs away. With the way people kept coughing all over the place this winter, I might feel inclined to wear them, too.

From his seat, Tyler offered a wave and then smiled. It was a rather attractive one; Tyler was a dwarf who could have worked as an underwear model. Although a dwarf, he was actually one of the tallest guys here, except when hunched over like he was right now. My poor friend tried his best to appear smaller, more dwarflike, but it was rather difficult, and I’m sure that gave him even more stress.

Two other friends waved from their seats: Abby the
Muse and Heidi the mermaid. Heidi’s wave was far more exuberant than Abby’s. The Muse always melted into the background and usually only spoke when spoken to. But when Abby had joined the others in the group to help me fight the Long Island werewolves, I’d seen a side to her that had been a lot more animated.

A warm hand touched my shoulder. Only Thorn could sneak up on me like this without a scent or sound. Dressed in a black trench coat with a black fedora, the white wizard gave me a tantalizing grin. His hat was tilted forward, causing his black hair to cover one of his eyes. His other eye, dark and mysterious, danced with mischief. My heartbeat quickened. It felt good to know someone looked forward to seeing me.

“You look wistful today.” Nick Fenton leaned in close enough for me to take in his handsome face, from his strong chin up to his midnight eyes. He was so close his casual greeting felt wonderfully intimate. But after seeing Thorn this morning, I felt awkward: The potential relationship I’d been building with Nick had been pushed a bit off-kilter.

“I’m just a bit tired. With the trials coming and all.” I inhaled deeply and waited for the scents to tell me about the man in front of me. Maybe today was different. But, as usual, the only thing I caught was the smell of the others around me. Nick was a blank canvas.

“Do you want to talk about it—”

Our conversation was cut short as Dr. Frank came in and told us to sit down. The old wizard patted Nick on the back in greeting and directed him to a chair. By the time I’d grabbed a coffee and moved to sit, there was only one seat available, and it was right next to the newest member of the therapy group: the wood nymph named Starfire Whimsong. He was as laid-back as ever, dressed in shorts and a T-shirt. On a wintery day. Even
worse, his ethereal forest magic couldn’t cover up the obvious fact that he stank. It was pretty bad today.

I sat and tried to think happy thoughts. Across the room, Nick glanced at me with concern. He mouthed, “You want to trade places?”

As much as I did want that, I couldn’t do it. I was there for therapy. If Starfire brushed up against me, I wouldn’t fall over twitching. That was what my antibacterial wipes were for.

On the other side of Starfire sat Lilith. A succubus who, unfortunately, still didn’t look as if she’d drained any souls lately. Lilith’s skin, which normally looked pearl-white, seemed a bit grayed and unhealthy. Even her eyes didn’t appear as bright. Her coat, which was too big, had some kind of furry dead animal wrapped around the collar, and the color of her orange fingernail polish didn’t seem like a wise choice with her lavender-and-gray-striped shoes. To each her own, I guess.

“Good afternoon, everyone. The tension in the room is up a bit but not as bad as our last meeting. Great progress.” Dr. Frank always had encouraging things to say. “How about we relax for a second to get into the mood?”

Dr. Frank’s magic fluttered through me. Oh, the man knew how to soothe a woman! Every worry I had on my shoulders lifted momentarily.

“How was everyone’s week? Did anyone have any difficulties dealing with the change in schedule?”

Lilith spoke first. “A change in the schedule is the least of my problems. I thought I’d be happy, now that I’m dating and soon to be married, but things aren’t going like I planned with Yuri.”

I’d almost forgotten about my distant werewolf cousin in Russia. Yuri had flown in from St. Petersburg not too long ago to live with Lilith. Since he always sucked out the souls of most of my family members, I thought the
two of them would be perfect for each other. Evidently not.

“How have you dealt with your relationship problems?” Dr. Frank asked.

Lilith played with her fingernails. “I’ve wanted to run away.”

Now, that was a change. Most of the time you’d find Lilith eagerly feeling up the male members of the group.

“Keep going,” Dr. Frank encouraged.

“He calls me all the time. While I’m at work, while I’m on my way home. He’s like this leech I can’t get off my back.”

I rolled my eyes. This story wasn’t anything new. Yuri had clearly just switched targets.

“I simply want to be happy with someone,” the succubus said bitterly. “I wanted to attract someone, but not like this.”

“Maybe you’ve finally realized you don’t always get what you want,” Heidi mumbled.

“Good to hear you speak, Heidi,” Dr. Frank said. “What would you do in this situation to reduce anxiety?”

“You’re making things a lot harder than they have to be.” Heidi leaned forward and continued, “Stop being a doormat and take control of the situation. You’re a damn succubus, for goodness’ sake. Tell him to stop calling you so much.”

“And what happens after I do that? Should I still marry him?” Lilith whined.

Heidi covered her face with her hands. Maybe to keep herself from saying something crass. I knew
I
wanted to. Our group therapy sessions often spun into relationship counseling.

“Maybe you should be happy someone wants to marry you. My new dwarf girlfriend dumped me.” Tyler crossed his arms and gave Lilith a dark look.

Heidi rolled her eyes. “I’m saying you need to stop crying about it and make a decision on your own, as your own woman. Whether you like the consequences or not.”

“Good advice. We can’t cling to our typical behavioral patterns if we want to make progress in our recovery.” Dr. Frank turned to me. “How have you been since we last spoke, Natalya?”

Everyone’s heads swiveled my way. I’d expected him to talk to Tyler next, maybe even Starfire since he rarely contributed to the conversations.

“Good,” I squeaked. “Nothing new to report.” Sadly, the only positive thing I had to look forward to was Nick and Alex’s new baby. Otherwise, I had plenty of stress-inducers in my life: the impending trials, Thorn’s marriage to Erica, and now I was wondering what bad news my parents were hiding from me.