The Magical Beings' Rehabilitation Center: The Complete Series Read online

  “I see,” I said, popping off the lid of my drink.

  “You know you’re taking this all rather calmly.”

  “Why wouldn’t I? Now I know I have to be dreaming,” I said, sadly observing that I had finished my Mango-a-go-go.

  “Why do you say that?” Frey asked.

  “Because none of this,” I said, waving my hand through the air. “Is like the stories. Everything is far too dorky. I mean really, the MBRC? What is this, Sesame Street-the magical edition?”

  “Dorky?” Frey scoffed, mildly offended.

  “Yeah, dorky. Where are the hot vampires, the magical wardrobes, the beautiful elves, and the daemon companions?”

  “Only a fraction of Americans are as beautiful as Hollywood portrays them to be,” Frey said.

  “Oh. That’s true,” I said, thinking it over. Generally speaking, stories are written only about good looking people. Why wouldn’t that same rule apply to magical creatures? But that didn’t mean I had to like it.

  “Well…I still think I’m having a nightmare,” I decided.

  “I thought you said you had a concussion.”

  “You are a jerk,” I grumbled.

  “No, I’m a werewolf,” Frey corrected.

  Ten minutes later, Frey and I wandered back to school. We had spent so much time at the MBRC, we only had one class left, which would begin in approximately 15 minutes.

  “I’m not going back to the MBRC today,” Frey whispered as we stealthily kicked up our heels outside the school building, waiting until the bell rang so we could slip in the school while students moved to their final class. “But tomorrow is Friday. After his work day ends, Dave has classes to attend, and I have to give my weekly report. You will come with me.”

  “Yeah. Sure. Right,” I said to the brick wall, leaning against the cold surface.

  The bell rang, and Frey straightened up. “I’ll see you in Spanish tomorrow before finding you after school.”

  “Yeah,” I said, pushing off the wall, following the silver-haired werewolf into the building. “See you.”

  Frey disappeared in the stampede of students that swarmed the hallway, leaving me wondering if I was utterly mad.

  I was practically a zombie when I got home that afternoon. Right after dinner, I collapsed in bed and slept like the dead until my alarm clock went off in the morning. I tried to convince myself it was a terrible dream, but even with that hope, I was somewhat surprised when I strolled into Spanish class the following morning.

  Frey sat in his front seat and ignored me. Toni and Dani were standing in front of him, asking him questions that he answered with an easy smile. When I entered the room, he didn’t even glance at me.

  Jerk.

  Neither did Dave the vampire. He awkwardly stood at the front of the room and bumbled through the lesson, still unable to remember my name and face along with everyone else’s.

  “I guess it really was a dream,” I grumbled, leaning on the locker next to Fran’s after school.

  “What are you talking about? You’ve been acting weird ever since you skipped lunch yesterday,” Fran said, most of her body disappearing into her messy locker.

  “Nothing. What are we doing today?” I asked, shifting my backpack.

  “I thought you usually tried to ‘accidentally’ run into Brett on Fridays after school?” Fran asked, her voice echoing in her locker.

  “He told me during American government that he was leaving early today. He’s got a dentist appointment.”

  “I should have known,” Fran snorted.

  “Are you ready to go?”

  I shrieked and jumped two feet into the air, startling Fran inside her locker.

  I swung around to stare at the silver-haired guy that had popped up next to me. “Frey,” I said, placing a hand over my thumping heart.

  “Morgan,” Frey said.

  Fran popped upright. “You didn’t tell me you were doing something with the transfer kid,” Fran hissed in my ear before smiling. “Hi, Frey.” (As the sophomore student council secretary, she was on the welcoming team for Frey. Apparently I missed that explanation yesterday when I skipped lunch.)

  “I didn’t think I was,” I hissed back before turning to Frey. “Are you sure about this?”

  Frey raised a silvery eyebrow. “I told you about it yesterday. We don’t have a choice.”

  “What’s going on?” Fran asked, hip bumping me.

  “Morgan and I have the same after-school job,” Frey smiled, shifting into a friendly persona. “We work for a doctor near Union Station.”

  “You didn’t tell me you got a job either,” Fran scolded.

  “It’s…uhhh…a very sudden opportunity. Just came up yesterday,” I said.

  “Right, so let’s go,” Frey said, slinging his backpack over his shoulder before reaching out and yanking me along by my wrist.

  “Bye, Fran,” I called over my shoulder. Frey continued to yank me down the hallway without waiting for her reply.

  “Can I at least put my coat on?” I grumbled when we moved down the main staircase, my heavy backpack hanging from my fingers.

  “Fine,” Frey sighed, pausing just outside the school doors. He took my backpack from me, allowing me to shrug on my lightweight, fall jacket. “Come on,” he said, practically throwing my backpack at me when I finished adjusting my collar.

  I grumbled and shouldered the bag as we left the school building. Dave was waiting outside.

  “Is it time? I’m so excited, I can hardly wait. I hope you give me a good grade,” Dave grinned, holding a black umbrella over his head as the sun shone down on the parking lot.

  “He’s coming with?” I asked. Great. Being seen after class, outside of school, with a substitute teacher? Yeah, my social life was officially dead.

  “Yes. Dr. Creamintin and I review his progress and behavior for the week. We don’t grade you, Dave,” Frey said before starting down the sidewalk, moving in the direction of the train station.

  “So, Dave. Will vampires really die if they’re exposed to direct sunlight?” I asked, eyeing Dave’s dorky umbrella.

  “No, not at all,” Dave said. “I only experience an allergic reaction.”

  “A what?” I asked. Once again popular culture fails me. Thank you, every vampire novel known to mankind.

  “If Dave is in the sunlight too long, he burns like an albino blonde cheerleader rubbed in baby oil, sitting on the beach,” Frey narrated from the front of our little line.

  “Is that just Dave or all vampires?” I asked, inspecting Dave’s pasty pale complexion.

  “I would have to say most of us vampires burn easily,” Dave supposed. “I mean, come on. Once you die, you’re going to lose your skin pigmentation. Of course, my case is worst than most. Usually it takes a few decades for the burning issue to kick in,” he said as he twirled his umbrella over his head.

  “Right. Logically.” I said, walking closer to Frey and hoping this experience would soon be over.

  3

  The Shy Unicorn

  The train ride seemed to take forever. Dave had to face the same direction as the train was moving, or he got motion sick. Dave also couldn’t sit near any smokers, or he hacked like a sick Chihuahua. (We had to move cars twice because of this.) Dave also had to sit as far away from Frey as possible. “I’m allergic to dog dander,” he said after nearly sneezing his eyeballs out. (No seriously, they almost popped out of his eye sockets. It was gross.)

  It stretched on and on. By the time we finally reached Union Station, I had to wonder why the MBRC hadn’t eliminated him yet.

  We were late, so Frey hustled us through the station, past Tiny the guard giant, through the main chamber of the MBRC, and down to Dr. Creamintin’s office.

  “Frey, so good to see you again. Ah, and you’ve brought back the beautiful Morgan. Excellent,” Dr. Creamintin beamed before turning to Dave. “Dave, how are you? Enjoying your first week in mortal society?”

  “Oh, yes! It was wonderful!” Dave beamed. (Again, the entertainment industry LIES to us. Dave beams about five times per second. He is not emo, nor is he angst-ridden.)

  “Don’t stretch it. You were only out there for three days,” Frey pessimistically added.

  “I have one harpy and a dwarf before you two, so you’re going to have to wait for Aristotle to check in with you,” Dr. Creamintin said, reaching past his mermaid secretary to check his files.

  “Great, we’ll take a seat,” Frey said, moving for the open chairs.

  “Morgan, dear, I have a task for you,” Dr. Creamintin called after me as I moved to follow Dave and Frey.

  “Yes, Dr. Creamintin?” I asked.

  “Felisha, Westfall is here, correct?” Dr. Creamintin asked, scratching his scalp.

  “Yes, he is, Dr. Creamintin,” the mermaid acknowledged.

  “Excellent. Morgan, Westfall is a young male unicorn who is going to be sent out to an MBRC equestrian therapy barn. He will live with roughly a dozen other magical equines under the supervision of three elves that run the stable. Mortal, nonmagical folk visit the barn during the day for therapy riding sessions. Westfall, as I said before, is young. He needs more exposure to humans before he leaves us. Would you mind chatting with him?” Dr. Creamintin smiled.

  “Sure. Although, I’ve never ridden or interacted with a horse besides pony rides at the zoo,” I said. “I’m not sure what I’ll be able to tell him.”

  “You don’t have to tell him anything. If you can get him used to normal humans, that will be plenty,” Dr. Creamintin snorted. “Dave and Frey will be at least an hour or two. After checking in with me, Dave must pick up his weekly supply of tomato juice.”

  Behind Dr. Creamintin, Dave scrunched up his face.

  “Don’t complain, Dave,” Dr. Creamintin said without looking over his shoulder at the sour vampire. “We already give you enough blood to supply two rehabilitated vampires. You aren’t going to get anymore, you greedy guts.”

  “Where do you get the blood?” I asked, fascinated.

  “We have agents in the hospitals that take nearly expired blood before it is tossed and smuggle it to us,” Dr. Creamintin said, making a note on a clipboard.

  “Blood expires?” I wondered.

  “After 35 days,” Dr. Creamintin nodded. “Unless it’s frozen, that is.”

  “Doctor, the patients are waiting,” the mermaid, Felisha, reminded him.

  “Thank you, Felisha. This way, Morgan,” Dr. Creamintin said, sweeping me away before I had a chance to wave goodbye to Frey and Dave.

  He herded me past the examination rooms, around a corner and up a hallway. “We keep our larger patients back here. Here he is. Westfall, I have someone I would like you to meet,” Dr. Creamintin announced as we turned another corner and the little hallway opened up into a stable.

  I was expecting a white unicorn with a pearly horn. Again, I was let down.

  Westfall was a delicate, smaller-sized unicorn. He closely resembled those Arabian horses from the desert. He was not white at all. He had a black mane and tail and brown fur with just the slightest hint of red to it. (Later, Westfall would teach me that his coloring was “bay.”) His horn was not pearly, but a shiny gold color.

  Westfall was munching on a bit of hay when the good doctor and I found him. He looked up as Dr. Creamintin called him, and when he caught sight of me his eyes bulged. He shot backwards, cracking himself on the rump when he hit the wood fence behind him. He scrambled away from us, clearly terrified of…me.

  “Chat with him, huh,” I said as the horse fled to his stall, which was nothing but a few wooden fences thrown together.

  Dr. Creamintin sheepishly laughed. “I did say it would be plenty if you could get him used to you,” he said before turning his attention to the skittish horse. “Westfall, that is no way to behave. Stop being a sissy, and get out here to introduce yourself.”

  I folded my arms across my chest. “I thought unicorns were white?”

  “Not all of them, my dear. Only certain lines—mostly the British ones. Westfall, there’s no use hiding behind the hay pile. Your scared, little rear hangs out behind it,” Dr. Creamintin shouted to the unicorn. Dr. Creamintin glanced at his watch and sighed. “I have patients waiting, Westfall, so I have to leave. I trust Morgan. I know I’m leaving you in capable hands. Do try and say something to her, lad,” Dr. Creamintin tisked before turning to me. “Just stand here and talk. If he ever comes out from behind the hay pile, you are progressing marvelously,” he said before striding off, disappearing down the hallway with a swish of his lab coat.

  “Right,” I awkwardly said, clapping my hand’s together. Westfall’s back end, the only visible part of him behind the stack of hay bales, flinched at the sound. “Okay. I’m just going to…go sit over here,” I said, spotting a metal crate several feet away, leaning against another stall.

  As I sat down, I cast my eyes around the makeshift stable. It had six stalls that varied in size. The smallest looked like it was suited to house a miniature pony. The largest was big enough that Westfall could roll around in it and still have plenty of room. I remembered the baby dragon from the front desk and darkly contemplated what animals usually stood in it.

  I scraped my shoes on the ground, which was covered in wood shavings. The barn smelled soft and woodsy, and oddly, it had skylights. I was considering how on earth Dr. Creamintin had gotten skylights when he was beneath Union Station, when I noticed the skittish unicorn had rotated his body and was peering out at me behind the hay.

  “Hello,” I smiled.

  I must of have shocked him because he shrieked like a little girl and disappeared behind the hay again. I nearly fell off my crate in surprise because I didn’t think he could talk, much less scream.

  “Something tells me that working here is going to be disappointing and educational,” I muttered as Westfall shook. “So long, childhood fairy tales!”

  After a couple minutes of various strangled shouts leaking out of the delicate unicorn, I recalled Dr. Creamintin’s orders to talk.

  “I am going to sound like such an idiot,” I grumbled before changing my voice into a friendly, inviting tone. “I’m Morgan. A human. Obviously. Um…I know Frey Christenson, if that is his real name, and Dave the vampire. Dave is my teacher. I found out about the MBRC because I walked in on a fight between him and Frey,” I rambled.

  Westfall continued to hide.

  “Right. Well, let’s see. I have three brothers; the oldest one is Michael. He’s named after the arc angel. Then there’s me, then Odie, and finally Peter. Odie’s real name is Odin. He and I have the same godparents. They named us. My dad is a math professor, and our godparents are his best friends who teach at the same college as him. Roman, my godfather, is a history professor. Karen is a mythology professor. That’s how Odie and I got mythological names.”

  I thought about it before laughing. “All in all, Morgan isn’t a bad name. My best friend, Fran? She’s named after this sitcom from the ‘90s. A show about a nanny,” I broke off into laughter before quieting in the awkwardness of the moment.

  “Yeah. Funny,” I said.

  I talked and talked and talked until I was blue in the face. It didn’t do any good. The frightened unicorn stayed in his horrible hiding spot.

  After half an hour of monologuing like a Shakespearian play, I was running out of things to talk about.

  “So. A therapy barn huh. Sounds pretty cool,” I said, turning over conversation topics in my head.

  Westfall quivered behind the hay.

  “I haven’t been to a barn. I’ve only ridden the ponies at the zoo as a kid,” I volunteered. “That’s pretty cool that you’re going to live in a therapy barn though. It means you’ll be helping humanity. That’s neat. I can’t imagine why you would want to do that. I mean, humans don’t believe in unicorns anymore; plus if you’re in a riding therapy barn, wouldn’t that mean you have to let humans ride you?” I questioned.

  I nearly jumped three feet into the air when the unicorn unexpectedly answered me.

  “I want to.”

  My head snapped up, and I stared at the chocolate-eyed equine that was peeking behind his hale bales, watching me with a terrified but resolved expression.

  Realizing I was making it more difficult by staring at him, I shifted my eyes back to my feet. “Why?”

  “I’m a unicorn. I can heal,” he proudly said. “Riding me will make them far better than riding any normal horse. I’ll use my magic to help them.”

  “Wow, that’s pretty cool. Do you know what other kinds of horses will be staying there?” I asked.

  Westfall was silent.

  I looked up, his bravery failed him, and he retreated back behind his hay bale, his butt poking out.

  Another half hour of talking yielded no further results.

  When Dr. Creamintin came to collect me, I told him of my failure.

  “That’s not a failure, girl,” he laughed while handing me a candy drop to soothe my scratchy throat. (Talking for an hour solid does that to you.) “The fact that he acknowledged your presence and spoke to you is a major breakthrough!”

  “I still don’t understand why he’s going to live in a therapy barn if he’s so terrified of humans,” I muttered.

  “He wants to get over his fear. Unicorns are healing creatures. They are eager to help people. Westfall just has to conquer his fear first,” Dr. Creamintin sagely said before turning me over to Frey as the werewolf entered the room.

  “That will be all for today, Miss Fae. I do look forward to seeing you next week, if you’re free” he smiled. “Thank you for your assistance.”

  “No problem,” I said, waving goodbye. I plopped down in a seat and wondered how long this arrangement would last. Not like I wanted to be paid or anything. It was interesting to be able to see all of the magical beings…but sooner or later, I suspected my social life would take a blow because of this.

  “Is Dave done?” I asked.

  “He’s finishing up some paperwork with Aristotle. We have to pick up his tomato juice dosage, and then we can leave,” Frey said, shifting in his seat.