Full Blooded

Marcy had briefed me yesterday in a short phone conversation about the schedule for the rest of the week. I had several cases requiring my attention today. It seemed the office had received an interesting call from a prospective client yesterday morning, and a response on my part was necessary as soon as possible. It felt like I’d been gone for weeks, not days. Sleeping in had not been on the itinerary.

I’d also chatted briefly with my father before bed. He informed me that he’d positioned several trusted wolves around my neighborhood, several blocks away. The plan today was business as usual. Molly Hannon had to convincingly pick up where she’d left off on Friday if we had any chance of keeping a lid on my shift.

I was glad for the distraction of work, because lingering on my change would drive me batty if I was left to my own devices. My wolf had been quiet in my mind since returning home, but the plain fact that I’d become a full-blooded werewolf was going to alter my life completely—my current reality would eventually become unrecognizable. I wasn’t ready. Truth be told, I was ill prepared for any of it. I’d lived as a human for the past twenty-six years. I had no idea what it meant to be supernatural. But since I’d left the Compound seven years ago, I’d taken each day as it came and today I was going to do just that. So help me.

I grabbed my errant purse, the one I had to scrub down last night so it was usable, and slung it over my shoulder. I wove my way through the path I’d cleared to my front door. Once I got outside, I made a cursory glance around the lot. There was no evidence of the car I’d crushed. There weren’t even any bits of glass or stray pieces of chrome lying around. That was a little disappointing. It would’ve been interesting to see the damage. Crashing out of a three-story balcony was impressive by anyone‘s standard.

I walked toward my black Nissan and pressed the unlock button. The car gave a gratuitous beep. I pulled the door open, but before I could slide in I heard a noise. Footsteps sounded on the asphalt behind me. I inhaled, but strangely I couldn’t scent anything. The air carried no smells. I tossed my purse in the front seat and spun around, ready to fight.

“No need to be worried then.” A heavily accented English voice hit my ears a heartbeat before I spotted him. “It’s just me. I’m checking to make sure all is well with you this fine bright afternoon, and you’re still all in one piece.” Danny Walker, my brother’s best friend, and one of my father’s most trusted, sauntered up to me smiling. His brown hair fully covered one eye, which he remedied with a flick of his head. He was a lanky wolf, thin but powerful.

“Danny,” I said. “You snuck up on me. I’m going to have to get better at detecting, but it’s great to see you.” Even though Danny was a friend and ally, and one of the few who knew my secret, our paths never crossed in the city. It had always been too risky. Even now it was risky. “Why can’t I smell you?”

“I rang up that witch of yours last night when I received my orders from your father. I asked her for a favor and she willingly obliged. Positioning wolves around the perimeter of your place was bound to raise suspicion to anyone who happened by with a keen nose, even if they were a few blocks away. She fixed us up quite nicely. Seems to have done the trick.”

“Great plan.” I inhaled again. All clear. Marcy must’ve conjured some kind of stripping spell, making it impossible to detect any smells within its boundaries. I couldn’t even smell the grass. It was likely the quickest and easiest way to spell such a vast area.

“It only lasts a day or two at most, so we’ll have to have her come round again.” Danny grinned. “You’re looking very well, by the way. I have no idea why there’s a big uproar about your safety, since no one’s bloody told me anything, but don’t worry your little head about security. Tyler arrived in the wee hours of this morning and we’re all on top of it. Nothing but the very best protection for you. We will make sure you stay safe from whatever it is that’s plaguing you.” If Danny hadn’t figured it out from the beacon, maybe there was hope it had gone unnoticed after all. He knew me and my voice.

“Thanks, Danny. I appreciate that. I hope the whole thing will be short-lived and we can go back to normal as soon as possible.”

“Ah, but then I won’t get any more chances to see your gorgeous face. Best for us to keep vigilant so we have ample opportunity to keep our clandestine parking lot visits ongoing. This will likely be the highlight of my very long, very boring day.”

I chuckled. “How is it possible you never change, Danny Walker? At least you didn’t comment about my ass this time.”

“What’s wrong with your bum, then? Eating too many biscuits?”

“No.” I laughed. “I haven’t been eating biscuits, but that does sound damn good. And my ass is just fine.” I grabbed on to my door handle. “I hate to break up our reunion, but we should end this illicit meeting before it gets noticed. It was good to see you, Danny. I mean that. Thanks for the backup. I appreciate it.”

“It’s my pleasure.” He gave me a mock three-finger salute. “Hope our paths cross again soon.” He turned and left like the professional he was. But not before he snuck a glance over his shoulder to check out my ass.

I got into my car, smiling as I slammed the door. Once I was on the road my stomach gave a deep, disgruntled grumble. I’d eaten myself out of food last night and I needed coffee, but it would have to wait. I was already late. My small, nondescript office building wasn’t far from my apartment, by design, and I made it in under five minutes.

I pulled into the side lot, closest to the door. The low concrete complex hosted a variety of other businesses—dental, insurance, and chiropractic. Very unnoticeable. Our offices were on the main floor.

I swung open the opaque glass door, marked with the white stenciled lettering “Hannon & Michaels Investigations,” and walked in.

Marcy pushed back her chair and stood. “Well, well, well, look who the cat finally dragged in.” She mocked checking the big clock on the wall.

“I know, I’m late,” I said. “My cell phone died sometime during the night. I need a new charger; my old one is one of the many casualties of my ransacked apartment. No alarm. But I bet you knew that already. How many times did you try to call?”

“Contrary to what you think, O blessed taskmaster, I thought it best to let you sleep. I’m only your keeper part of the time. My other starring roles include—but are not limited to—the fun-loving gal pal, the beautiful chirpy sidekick, and your brilliant bookie. And I can be all those things because I’m so unbelievably gifted.” Marcy walked around to the front of her desk.