PsychoPsychic: Thanks. I’m on my way. T-man gave me your phone number, so I’ll text you when I get there.
Sighing, I close the laptop and grab the set of keys from the counter. I still can’t believe Terrance is letting me use his car. I’ll try not to make a habit of it, but for now it’s my only option. I’m a good seven or eight miles from the college right now, and I don’t know the bus routes on this end of town. I doubt there’s a stop anywhere near me, anyway. I’m under the bridge, for heaven’s sake.
As I leave, I’m shocked to find the stairs to the exit are already lit up with built-in overhead lights that give off a soft glow like the rest of the house. When the hell did Terrance have time to install a whole lighting system?
An even bigger shock comes when I get outside and click the lock button on the car key fob Terrance left me. After taking a moment to let my eyes adjust to the harsh afternoon daylight, I realize the key on my ring is not for his candy-apple red Caddie. It belongs to the smaller silver sporty-looking coupe parked next to it. This car is a Cadillac, too, and I happen to know it’s an expensive one. Not as expensive as Terrance’s, but close.
My stomach drops as suspicion creeps in. I hadn’t seen a second car parked out here last night. I scan the temporary license sticker in the back window and curse. He’d bought the car this morning. He’d purchased a whole second car just so that I’d have something to drive, even when I told him I don’t plan on sticking around more than a few days. “Damn you, Terrance,” I whisper as I walk around to the driver’s side.
It was a kind gesture, but I hate feeling beholden to anyone, and how could I possibly not be indebted to Terrance for this?
Oh, well. Nothing to do about it at the moment. I’m not going to wake him up to argue with him when he was awake all night making sure I was taken care of. And he’d probably be insulted if I refused to use the car, so I climb behind the wheel and head over to the college in the nicest car I’ve ever driven.
I’m in heaven with each acceleration, each stop, and each turn I make. I get to the college way too soon and find the visitor’s parking lot. I’m afraid for such a nice car to be parked in Detroit, but as I get out and lock it, I feel the slight zing of magic surrounding it. I smile to myself. It’s protected by wards. I’m not sure what they do—do they make people not see it, or zap them if they’re not supposed to touch it and do—but I know it’s safe to leave it where it is.
I head toward the nearest building, about to text Oliver when he calls my name. He’s wearing jeans and a Zelda hoodie. I recognize him instantly. His warm amber eyes are locked on me, sparkling with delight, and his smile is wider than I’ve ever seen it.
“Oliver!” I wave and close the distance between us quickly. “Hey! How’d you find me so fast?”
He shrugs. “I traced your phone number. I saw you park in this lot.”
I cock a brow at him. Tracing phone numbers? So he’s a bit of a computer hacker? Honestly, I’m not surprised. “Sorry.” He runs his fingers through his hair. “It’s just, this isn’t the best neighborhood, and now that the underworld knows about you, people are going to be curious. Not all of us are nocturnal.”
Sighing, I give him a small smile so he knows I’m not upset. “Looking out for me, as always.”
The twinkle in his eyes comes back. “Of course. Always, Nora. I promise.”
I have no idea what to say to that, so I clear my throat and shrug toward campus. “Okay, so here’s the thing…I need to find a fraternity.”
Oliver jerks his head back and gives me a peculiar look. “I think you mean sorority, and you’re interested in rushing?”
I shake my head, thinking back to my vision and the meatheads who stole Shandra. “Oh, no, I mean a frat.” I shoot Oliver a look as dry as my next question. “And do I seem like someone who would rush a sorority to you?”
Oliver grins. “No.”
“No is right. We’re not here to rush, Oliver, we’re looking for clues. The car Shandra was taken in had a decal on the back window. It looked like the Greek letters of a fraternity name, but I couldn’t find it on Google. I’m hoping since Wayne State is the only university in the area, the sticker I saw belongs to a fraternity here. If we find the fraternity, we find the car. We find the car, I can do my Sherlock thing and find the clues.”
“We?” Oliver asks in a quiet voice as he holds the straps of his backpack.
I can’t tell if he’s nervous because he doesn’t want to get involved, or because I invited him along. “Well, I suppose you don’t have to play Watson to my Sherlock, if you don’t want to,” I say. “It might get dangerous. Powerful underworlders are getting snatched, and Nick Gorgeous mentioned you’re crazy-ass strong. These psychos might want you. Maybe you should just point me to the student union and—”
“No, I want to help,” Oliver blurts. “I was just surprised you’d include me.”
“Why?”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, Nora, but…well…you’re a loner. You aren’t the type to work with a partner or ask for backup.”
He’s not wrong about that, but what he doesn’t know is that I’ve always been a loner out of necessity. “Only because I’ve never had anyone I could trust with my secret before.”
“You can trust me, Nora,” Oliver says quietly.
His declaration makes me feel all kinds of emotions I’m not used to experiencing. Warm and fuzzy are not words I’d use to describe my life.
Ignoring the heat in my cheeks, I casually bump his shoulder with mine. “I know I can, or I wouldn’t have called you.” There’s a brief, awkward pause, which I break up with a clap of my hands. “Come along, Watson. We’ve got a troll to find.”
Even though Wayne State University is no Notre Dame, it’s still fun to be walking around campus with Oliver as if I belong here. It makes me wish this were my life—that I was normal, and had friends, and went to college. I almost see myself graduating, getting a job, having a boyfriend. For the moment, I feel normal. Of course, I’m a psychic strolling across campus with a sorcerer, looking for a group of supernatural kidnappers who’ve snatched my troll roommate’s potential mate, so…normal is relative, I guess.
“You’re in luck, because it’s Rush Week right now,” Oliver says as we move into what seems to be the main quad. It’s full of tables and booths all advertising different sororities and fraternities. “Every Greek organization affiliated with Wayne State will have representatives here. We’ll just start at one end and work our way around the quad.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Oliver smiles, lighting up his whole face. When he offers me a hand to hold, as if this were a date, I grimace and shake my head. “Sorry. I’ve got a no touching policy. Unless you want me to hear every thought in your head.”
Oliver’s face heats up, and he matches my grimace. “Oh, right. I forgot about that.”
I try to smile, but the mood has slipped into awkward territory. Surprisingly, Oliver is the one to drive us back into comfortable conversation. “You can’t turn your gift off, then?”
I shake my head, grateful that I have to be paying attention to all of the booth banners so I don’t have to maintain eye contact. “I wish. That would make my life a hell of a lot easier.”
“What about clothes? Does it work through material, or do long sleeves, gloves, and things stop it?”
“Mostly. But I hate gloves. I hate having my fingers restricted, and I really don’t like to draw attention to myself any more than I have to. It’s bad enough I’m a small white girl living in inner city Detroit.”
Oliver sighs. “That’s true. I guess I don’t blame you. But…don’t you ever crave human touch?”
No way am I answering that question. I stop to look loosely at a yellow banner advertising a fraternity.
“That it?” Oliver asks, following my gaze when I stop walking.