Collected
Chapter One
     
    This story takes place seven months before
Coveted begins.
     
    The bid button on auction websites was an
evil mistress that I’d love to drop. Whether their font was bold,
cursive, or some other customer-grabbing style, those auctions
snagged me each and every time. They also made me a promise. All I
had to do to add to my ever-growing collection of trinkets was
periodically press on my mouse like a junkie pining for the next
fix. The only way to stop me from drying up my bank account with
repeated bids was the satisfaction of seeing my username, NatalyaStravinsky , as the highest bidder.
    Thankfully, with a high-speed Internet
connection and quick-moving fingers, I collected my latest prize: A
haunted Victorian figurine from the 1800s that a woman had once
used to off her philandering husband. Cast in bronze with a perfect
sheen, it was ideal for either inducing blunt force trauma or as a
centerpiece for an end table.
    That last auction I won ended five days ago,
and I knew my winnings were due to arrive today. I’d taken the
afternoon off work and drove slightly over the speed limit down
Garden State Parkway. Along the way, I berated every slow-driving
citizen of South Toms River, New Jersey. Didn’t they know my prized
package was waiting on my doorstep?
    Anticipation tingled down my arms as I drove
up my long driveway to my cottage. On any other day, I would’ve
admired all the hard work I’d done to prepare the flowerbeds along
the road. Or even the fragrant flowers that had recently blossomed
below the dogwood tree near the house. No, what caught my eye was
my doorstep.
    My box was missing.
    My nose, quite keen even for a werewolf, told
me that no one had been here since I left the cottage. And I knew
the deliveryman’s aftershave-laden scent too well. Since I lived
right outside of town there were no neighbors to consider. No one
had taken it from the house.
    A sane person might track the package online
or call the delivery truck. Since I ordered so much from the Home
Shopping Network, the deliveryman—James—knew me by name and was
also aware of how twitchy I became if a package didn’t arrive on
time.
    Instead of calling him—I’d show some
self-control for at least five minutes—I focused on my prize and
waited patiently. Two minutes later, I caved and my smartphone told
me the obvious: PACKAGE DROPPED OFF. SIGNATURE RETRIEVED AT 10:50
A.M.
    Naturally, as I clutched the phone tight
enough to crush it, my first thought was by whom . Especially
since I lived alone and didn’t expect any friends—you needed to
have some in the first place—to come by and pick it up.
    My fingers trembled as I dialed James’ cell
phone. With each ring, my heartbeat thundered, leaving me bitter
that it took so long to connect. After the fourth one, James
finally answered.
    “Hey! You like your gift?” His gruff voice
always sounded cheerful during the spring time. He was less cordial
when snow was piled on the walkway.
    “Gift? I just got home.”
    He laughed softly. “So you’re telling me you
forgot you met me at the mailbox this morning?”
    If a heart defibrillator had been nearby, I
would’ve jolted myself with the damn thing.
    “Excuse me?”
    “Oh, c’mon,” he jested. “You were standing by
the side of the road. It was rather nice of you, by the way,
instead of forcing me to drive up your long driveway. At first, I
was kinda surprised since you looked so unusual.”
    My voice came out higher-pitched than usual.
“In what way?”
    As a human, James didn’t know about the world
of supernatural creatures around him. Surely, the most he knew
about werewolves were from what he’d seen on TV or in books.
    “Usually, you’re so dressed up, but you were
in jeans for once. You should wear them more often.”
    His voice faded as the phone dropped out of
my hand. I could still hear him, but that didn’t matter anymore.
Someone, looking just like me, had taken my package. My fingertips
brushed

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