Ancient Obsession (Critter Catchers: Legendary Darkness #1)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

The sun was in Oliver’s eyes, forcing him to squint as people brushed past him.

Something tumbled within his chest, like hiking boots in a dryer.

What had he been thinking when he’d signed up for these classes?

He was years older than a majority of everyone briskly walking across the quad.

Most wore headphones, looking down as they headed for one of the four academic buildings on this part of Bishop Point University’s campus.

His phone buzzed and Oliver pulled it from his pocket.

Dave, his fiancé, had been counting down the days until their wedding.

At first Oliver had said it felt like a threat from some schlocky horror movie.

But then Dave had pulled him in close. He’d kissed him deep and run his mouth down around Oliver’s neck up to his ear where he whispered, “We’ll be far from schlocky together. ”

Even now the memory sent a shiver through him.

Aside from the horror movie vibe, the countdown was sweet and something Oliver wished he’d thought to do himself. But it was definitely more Dave’s style. Oliver sent back a string of heart emojis as the feeling of boots tumbling in a dryer downgraded to sneakers.

You’ve got this. I’m proud of you. I love you. Go get ‘em, Tiger!

Oliver snorted and shook his head. Dave really leaned into being corny sometimes.

I love you, too. Don’t you have a pivot table to assemble?

Stop, you’re giving me a chub.

Save it for later, I’ll need a distraction after this.

You’ve faced all kinds of cryptids and monsters. Expanding your education will be a cake walk. Meeting starting. I love you.

Thanks. Love you too.

He switched to his email app and checked, for what must have been the millionth time, the email he’d received from the university. His first class was in the Communications building, room 349.

Oliver pocketed his phone. After a scan of the signs in front of the buildings, he headed for the Communications building.

He had decided to go back to college in an effort to make himself more marketable to companies that would provide a steady paycheck.

So he’d signed up for two classes in the late spring term, which was only six weeks, hoping it would be a way to ease back into things.

He’d noticed the dwindling site visits and comments on his blog a month or two before the marketing team for Beauchamp’s Barbecue Sauces emailed to let him know they were pulling their support. The loss of that final sponsor was a big wake up call. It was time for something different.

And there was still a shelf full of barbecue sauce back home that he and Dave were slowly working through.

At the Communications building, he squeezed through the door with a crowd.

A group of people waited for the elevator.

He caught sight of the door to the stairs and climbed to the third floor.

As he stepped out the door, he paused to get his bearings, but mostly to catch his breath.

Placing a hand against the slight stitch in his side, he promised himself he’d get back to the gym.

Maybe after he got settled in with his class schedule.

Definitely someday soon.

Oliver located room 349 tucked into a small alcove at the end of the hall.

A dozen other people were already seated at desks exactly like what he’d used back in high school.

That plus the fact that the other students appeared a lot younger made him feel as if he’d stepped back in time.

Could he be in his own version of Peggy Sue Got Married?

A desk was open in the middle and he slid into it, dropping his messenger bag at his feet and removing his notebook and pen. The other students were using a mix of laptops and tablets.

He should probably just turn to dust and crumble away right now, save himself the tuition.

“Pen and paper?”

Oliver glanced over his shoulder. Dark, curly hair in a stylishly messy tangle and dark eyes.

The kid was younger by at least ten years, and for some reason the smile that showed off a gap between front teeth made Oliver feel ancient.

An older model laptop was open in front of the kid, covered with stickers showing anime characters and a few different Pride flags, as well as one that stated they/them.

“Yeah, I’m kind of old school that way. I’m Oliver.”

“Robin.” The kid reached out, and Oliver shook with them, noting the assortment of rings and black nail polish.

Oliver gestured to the laptop. “Your pronouns they/them?”

“Yeah.” Robin looked impressed. “And you just did better than ninety percent of my family.”

Before either of them could say anything more, a man entered the room in a brisk walk and dropped a soft-sided briefcase on the desk at the front.

His graying hair was long, pulled back into a ponytail.

He wore faded jeans and a flannel shirt with a Henley underneath.

He adjusted his heavy-framed glasses and scanned the room.

“This is Expanding Viewpoints, Journalism 450, and I’m Professor Garrity. There should be twenty-two of you in here, and you should all have successfully passed, at minimum, Journalism 250. If that’s not the case, please save both of us time and effort and leave now.”

Oliver exchanged looks with the students seated beside him, then looked over his shoulder. Robin looked young, but maybe they'd taken a string of journalism courses in their first year.

“All right, let the swords fall where they may,” Professor Garrity said. “Let’s begin.”

After attending both classes he’d signed up for, Oliver took a minute to collect his thoughts. He dropped onto a bench under a shade tree and let out a breath as he set his messenger bag beside him. It was only the first day, and he already felt tired. Had this been a mistake?

When Oliver had mentioned the idea a couple of months ago, Dave had been completely onboard.

If someone had told him he’d end up married to one of Cody Bower’s brothers, he’d have laughed long and hard.

But, here he was, finalizing plans for a wedding at the end of the month.

Dave had a spreadsheet, of course, and so far, they’d successfully stayed within their budget.

And after a bit of discussion, they’d decided to put off a honeymoon until later in the year.

“Hey, Old School!”

Robin was jogging toward him, sunlight glinting off the bouncing dark tangles of hair.

“I don’t like that nickname,” Oliver said as Robin slid Oliver’s bag aside to make room for them to sit.

“Yeah?” Robin dropped their backpack on the ground between their feet. “How was your first day back? How long has it been, a decade?”

“Oh my God.” Oliver slung the strap of his bag over his shoulder but remained seated. “I’m not that old.”

“Okay, noted.” Robin bounced their leg as if to some beat only they could hear, their gaze jumping between people walking past before returning to Oliver. “You don’t look like an Oliver.”

“Um, okay, but it’s my name.”

“Yeah, I get it. But the formal version doesn’t really fit you. I like Ollie.”

Oliver closed his eyes and hung his head. “Do you know anyone with the last name Bower?”

“Bower? Not sure. I know a lot of people by first name only. Or screen name. Why?”

“Not important. I get where you’re coming from, but I would prefer you call me Oliver.”

Robin nodded once. “Noted.”

“Thank you.”

“I take it someone in your life calls you Ollie and you don’t like it?”

Oliver hesitated. He hadn’t liked it when Cody had started calling him that back when they’d first met.

But a lot of very dark and dangerous stuff had happened over the years.

He and Cody had fought side by side several times to save each other and those they loved.

With all of that history, Oliver was surprised to find that, actually, he no longer minded when Cody called him Ollie.

Cody’d been calling him that for so long it felt natural and—dear God, was he having a stroke?

—almost affectionate. Maybe it was because of Cody’s team sports background or something, but he had a way of saying it that made it seem as if he owned it and no one else should call him that.

Kind of how Cody was the only one who referred to Demetrius as Demmy.

Not possessive—at least, not with him—but with affection.

“Yeah,” Oliver replied. “He calls me that, and I don’t like it.”

“Got it. So, is Garrity’s class the only one you’re taking?”

“No, I signed up for Social and Online Communications as well.”

“Oh, nice.”

“How about you?” Oliver asked.

“Full schedule, but just the one journalism class.”

“Is that what you want to do?”

Robin bounced their shoulders up and down in a quick shrug. “Right now, maybe. I’m also taking oceanography and a math class and an economics class, which I may have to drop because it’s already kind of insane.”

“Yeah, I took one economics class years ago and tapped out.” Oliver stood up. “It was good meeting you today, Robin. I’ll see you on Wednesday.”

“Where’s home?” Robin stood as well and shouldered their pack.

“Parson’s Hollow.”

“The monster place?”

“That’s right. Paranormal Hollow.”

“Are the stories true?”

“Which ones?”

“I dunno. All of them, I guess.”

Oliver stopped and assessed Robin’s open and interested expression. So many stories had been circling the group chats—and now TikTok algorithms—some true and others even crazier than what had actually happened.

“Well, I’ve seen some insane stuff, but I don’t have time to go into any of it now.”

Robin took a step closer and lowered their voice. “Werewolves?”

The memory of watching Jugs thrash as his limbs cracked and lengthened made him shiver. “I saw some things I really can’t explain.”

“That place sounds crazy, but in a good way.”

“There’s good crazy?”

“For sure. I’m in boring, monster-free Thorndale. I live with my sister and her husband and their two kids.”

“You and your sister get along?”

“Yeah. She took me in after my parents kicked me out when I told them I was non-binary.”

“Yikes. That had to be really hard.”

Robin started walking again. “It wasn’t a surprise. I’ve known all my life I was different, no matter what they tried to do to convince me otherwise.”

“Conversion camp?”

“Yeah, one time. I got kicked out for getting the kids in my cabin turnt.”

“Turnt?”

“Sorry, forgot how old you are.”

“Unnecessarily rude.”

“Turnt means drunk.”

Oliver nodded. “I knew that.”

“Uh huh.” Robin smirked, but something darker moved across their expression.

“Anyway, that’s where I’m at. My sister’s great, and her husband is pretty chill.

He works road construction out toward Pittsburgh, so he spends some nights away from home.

I help with my nieces and household chores instead of paying rent. ”

“That’s a good arrangement. I’m glad you’ve got some family support.”

“Me, too.” Robin adjusted the backpack. “How about you?”

“I live with my fiancé, Dave.”

“I thought you might be gay.”

Oliver frowned. “What? Why?”

“I don’t know, just a feeling.”

“Huh, not sure how to take that…”

“When’s the wedding?”

Oliver knew it was a deflection on Robin’s part, but went with it. “Nineteen days.”

Robin widened their eyes. “That soon?”

Oliver chuckled and widened his eyes as well. “I know, right?”

“You ready?”

“For the wedding? No. Not at all. To be married to Dave?” A flush of heat went through Oliver, and he smiled. “Absolutely.”

“Good. That’s the way to do it. All right engaged-to-be-married-Oliver, I need to go so I don’t miss my bus.”

“Oh, you don’t drive?”

“No money, no car.”

“I don’t have time to take you all the way to Thorndale, but I could drop you off at the bus stop.”

“Nah, it’s all right. I appreciate it, but I want to stop for a coffee for the ride home.”

“Yeah, of course.” Oliver paused. The urge to offer Robin some money rose up within him, but he figured that would come across as condescending instead of kind. He settled for saying, “I hope it’s a smooth ride home.”

“How hard was it not to offer me something more?”

Oliver’s cheeks burned. “What?”

“Most people struggle with what to say when they find out my story.” Robin hooked their thumbs under the straps of the backpack. “You handled it well, but I was just curious what you didn’t say.”

“I think we all have an innate desire to help others.”

Robin laughed bitterly. “Not all of us.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault, fiancé Oliver.” Robin grinned. “Go home and order your cake.”

“We already have the cake ordered.”

“What flavor?”

“Marble cake with white buttercream frosting and raspberry filling.”

“Marble, nice choice. Two for one. I love a marble cake.” Robin started to walk away, then turned back. “You can bring my invitation to class on Wednesday.”

Oliver scratched his head as he watched Robin walk away. Had he just been adopted by a Gen Z kid?

He fished his key fob from his pocket and unlocked his car. Even though the early May day was pleasant, the sun had warmed the car’s interior, and Oliver removed his windbreaker before getting behind the wheel.

First day of classes down. The rest of the shortened summer semester would, hopefully, be easy, and he and Dave could get married without any glitches.