“I’m not college material, Willow, and you know it.” This time, Layla rolls her eyes. A sharp laugh escapes her lips.
“Okay, what about the notes?” I ask as more and more questions pop into my mind. Is Layla going to stay here for real?
“Gosh, Willow, do I have to come up with everything?” she says with wide eyes as she sets down her tea.
“I’m figuring out where you’re at,” I say, still partially in another place mentally.
“Ahead of you?”
“No, you’re behind. The man behind the notes is a tall Hispanic man named Ghost,” I say defensively.
“That’s it?” She raises an eyebrow. Her attitude was raising the hairs on my skin.
“It’s more than what you have.” I couldn’t help the retort as our conversation gets progressively more heated. It’s as if she is attacking me, and my shoulder blades tighten with tension. Her sharp gaze cuts through me. I’m older, I’m supposed to takecharge, but I’m not that much older, and I’m—it’s all too much. I’m not built to deal with these kinds of problems.
“So, Milo’s killer is Hispanic. So, that gets us... nowhere.” Layla nods her head, surveying my home; it was mostly empty at the moment since it’s worlds bigger than my last apartment. “I knew I could only live with another bear shifter,” Layla comments, leaning back into her chair.
“Why?” I ask. This girl could be incredibly random at times; it was hard to keep up.
“Because only a bear shifter would keep the house this cold.”
“True,” I mumble, letting the steam from my mug warm my face; gosh, it was too early for this conversation. Finally, taking a sip, I let the soothing hot liquid slide down my throat. For once, I’m not embraced by the comfort tea gives me; instead, I have the instinct to spit it out.
Sniffing the steam, it smells the same; I think? My skin lights up with heat regardless, the sweat dripping down the back of my neck intensifies, and sweat bubbles up at my forehead. My tongue is getting puffy, as if it’s out of place.
Oh my goddess, did I purchase the wrong tea?
“Layla, does your tea taste funny?” My words are coming out all weird and wrong, but I try anyway.
“It’s finally not that bland, harsh-ass black tea you used to drink. You exploring different flavors now?” she says with a weird stare at me, taking another sip of hers.
“I haven’t. Someone must have done something to my tea bags,” I gurgle. When could that have happened? I just got here. I just got that box... oh my goddess, did Ghost find my new address? I can barely get the words out as my tongue is stiff. I grab her mug and mine to dump it down the sink. The effects of one sip are instant. My eyes puff up and water, and golly, when did it get hot? Is my AC still working? Am I truly having a reaction to something? What’s wrong with me?
“Are you okay? You look like shit,” Layla says. Grabbing my mug, she sniffs it before her eyes shoot up to me. She grabs an unused tea bag from the box I purchased a few days ago and rips it open, letting the contents spill on the counter.
“This isn’t your normal, Willow. Did you get the wrong kind?” I can’t keep my weakening body up anymore. I turn from the sink and in my attempt to reach a chair, I fall to the ground. The hard wood slams into my arms as I try to break the fall.
Shift. I need to shift to my bear. Activate the healing.
This is an allergic reaction. I used to recognize these symptoms faster, but I couldn’t smell anything. Why was Layla able to smell it, but not me?
“Oh, my goddess. What am I supposed to do?” Layla shouts in a panic. “Call 911? Wait, no, that is for humans. The Council would kill me. Shift, Willow, shift! Oh my goddess, she can’t hear me. Where’s your phone?” Layla snatches my phone off the cream-colored table. All I can see is Layla’s hair whirling back and forth as she panics. She reminds me of a dream, hazy and moving in slow motion. My eyes are closing as Layla moves the phone towards her ear, and that is the last thing I see before my body has had enough and calls it a day.
As embarrassing as it is, I, a full-blooded bear shifter, have an allergy to bananas. Shifter bodies could heal themselves from almost anything. As long as the bullet or object was removed or our heads weren’t fully cut off, we could heal our bodies by continuously shifting between our animal form and human form. The act would activate the magic properties that allow us to turn and amplify the animal’s ability to heal. Our healing ability doesn’t activate without shifting, and that is hard to do unconsciously.
This is where witches and fairies came into play. As the doctors and healers of the paranormal world, it’s a good idea to have one in your back pocket. The problem in my case, is thatmoving to Rainfall Avenue and going no contact with my family caused me to lose my family witch’s number.
So, the fact that I’m still alive means Layla must have witch powers, or she called someone that I now owe a favor.
I’m in my room, that much I can tell. Turning my head, I can now see that Layla did, in fact, stick around, and that she is still here, rocking away in my rocking chair next to my bed. She lets out a sigh of relief as she makes eye contact with me, putting her phone down on the side table beside the chair. “Oh my goddess, Willow, that was some scary shit. I forgot shifters could have allergies.”
“What happened?” I ask. My body is still heavy, but my eyes and tongue have gone back to normal.
“You don’t have a witch on speed dial. Now you do, by the way. I called your emergency contact, Flora Enchanted. I told her what happened, then she called someone named Dylan while rushing over here. Then Dylan called an Alpha named Jackson, and?—”
“And now you’re stuck with me, sweet pea.”
The grocery store hero, also known as Eddie Enchanted, stands in my doorway, a smirk and those darn glasses decorating his face.
