Wicked Hungry

“Smells like it too,” says Jonathan. “But it also smells musky. You people take a shower lately?”

I glance at Enrique. How much did Jonathan know?

“We had a little run in with a big goth freshman and his pit bull.”

“Frumberg?” Jonathan asks.

We nod.

“Looks a little different from the last time we saw him, huh?”

I nod. “Talk about a makeover.”

Jonathan laughs. “You shouldn’t joke, dude. That guy is into some seriously scary stuff.”

“Like what?” I ask, curious, looking around to see if anyone is listening. “Did you see something?”

Jonathan nods. “He was in here. And he wasn’t buying herbal tea up front. Or vitamins. He was in back buying up all these weird daggers, pentagrams, and old books.”

Enrique clears his throat. “Am I the only one who feels like we’re being watched? We need to get inside.”

I look at Jonathan, who shrugs. “You want

me to tag along?” he asks.

I nod, but Enrique shakes his head. I pull Enrique aside. “Look at him, man, can’t you see it? Can’t you smell it? That he’s one of us?”

“One of what?” Enrique asks. “One of our friends?”

I want to just give him a warning bite on the ear. I catch myself growling, but I see that Enrique is kidding. “Okay, he’s one of us,” he says, as thunder sounds off in the distance. “He looks kind of like a...how do you say...a zorro?”

“A fox,” I say. “Like in Perfect World.”

“Yes. A fox, like in the game. So let’s go in together.”

But the sigils are glowing now in the growing darkness.

“Sure,” I say. “Great. But I’m not touching that door.”

“I’ll do the honors,” says Jonathan, and he pulls the door open for us both.

Who knows what I expected, but it looks like a normal health food store, one where there aren’t too many customers so they mostly just have herbs and teas and vitamins. But here they don’t just have health stuff; there’s a magic side, too, to Natural Magic. They have books about Wicca, some decorative armor and weapons for sale. The blades are kind of cool looking, but you know they aren’t real; they aren’t balanced for fighting. They’d look cool on a wall, or for Halloween, maybe. There are sticks of incense and bottle after bottle full of herbs and powders and tinctures of all colors and descriptions. For all that, the store is smaller and cleaner than I expected, and there’s just this one guy at the register who looks like he just graduated from college. Blaine and Morgan are nowhere to be seen.

“Can I help you?” the guy asks.

But when he sees Jonathan, the smile freezes on his face. Then he sees Enrique and me.

“Oh,” he says, and goes back to reading a comic book. “You can show them the way.”

Jonathan leads us to a door in the back. There’s just a small sign on the door that says “Supplies – Serious Enquiries Only.” But the door—there is silver all over it, and sigils. Runes. As I walk closer, there’s a metallic taste on my teeth; the hair stands up on my arms, on the back of my neck. And the smell. A territorial smell that makes me want to change right now and start ripping things to pieces.

I’m not going in there, no way.

“Stanley?” Jonathan asks, one hand halfway to the door handle. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I say through gritted teeth. “Just fine.”

Enrique and Jonathan exchange a look.