(ON HOLD) Spellbound (BxB)

Chapter 8 | The Crescent Cove

One possession Jackal did appear to have was his own bathroom, in which Asher hunched by a spotless toilet bowl, once again emptying the contents of his stomach. Jackal had his back to the door and a grip on the handle while a voice outside pleaded to come in.

"What's going on?"

"I said nothing, Kat!" Jackal replied.

"I heard screaming!" The voice said. "Are you throwing up? Gross, let me see."

The handle jiggled. Jackal clutched at it. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Open up, Jack!"

"Leave us alone!"

"Us?" piqued the voice. "Who's in there with you? Jack? Jaaack!"

"Hurry," Jackal whispered and gestured to a claw-foot bathtub.

Asher hissed back, "Are you fucking—"

"Please!" said Jackal, while the voice behind the door jiggled furiously at the handle. "Hurry up."

So Asher flushed away his dinner and scrambled to his feet, rocked with a sudden spell of dizziness that sent him clutching for the shower curtain, knees bunting the edge of the tub. One moment, he was falling, shower curtain torn from its hooks as he spilled into the tub. And when his dizzy, spinning head came to a stop, the door was flying open. A woman in a wheelchair rolled in. She was tiny, her hair a blonde bob that fell longer in the front and shorter in the back. Her arms and legs were frail, but not atrophied, and her knees mottled in bruises—some old, some new. She took one look at Asher and the ears perked above his head, then she quickly reversed her wheelchair and spun around.

Jackal snatched the handles and wheeled her into the bathroom while she clawed at the door frame. "Unhand me, you fiend!"

"Stop shouting!"

"This is oppression! I need to go get Dad!"

"Shut up!"

Jackal shut the door and pressed his back to the handle, and the girl, furious to be trapped inside with them both, let out a great puff. "Who is he and what the hell did you to do him, Jackal?"

"I don't know, I—"

"Wait a minute!" exclaimed the woman. She rolled closer to the tub and reached out for Asher's head. He winced involuntarily as she touched the cartilage of his new ears. He could hear the scruff of her fingers against his skin, feel new muscles jerk in reaction to her touch. It was a strange feeling, like the sensations of a dream that linger moments after you wake. "It's him, isn't it?" she asked with a gasp. Her honey eyes gazed furiously at Asher, then she maneuvered her wheelchair around to face Jackal. "You tried to force his transfiguration. Jack, that is so against the rules!"

"I know!"

"Well, what will you do?"

Jackal's voice grew wrought with despair. "I don't know!"

"Will someone tell me what the hell's going on?" Asher cupped the ears on his head so he could hear through the real ones. Everything sounded so loud. So muffled and cloudy. "What's happening to me?"

"Oh you poor thing," said the girl. "Come, get out of here."

She held out a hand, as if her tiny frame could help pull him from the tub. And out of courtesy, Asher took it. He climbed out and slumped against the edge with shaking legs, his ears twisting and flinching to the sounds of dropping water. The slightest echo. The slight buzz of electronics in the next room. He hated the feeling—distracting, anxious, uncontrollable. A clock ticked somewhere and an awful shiver racked him. "Jesus Christ, what's happening to me?"