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Chapter 1-9

  I woke up to the sound of knocking on my door and the thumps of a light body coming down the steps saying something I couldn’t make out. My room was too bright for early comfort, even not opening my eyes yet I could tell the overhead light was still on as I laid limply on the couch. Everything felt unreal, a thin sense of emotional numbness, and most of my body stiff from my sleeping position.

  My legs were draped over the arm of the couch, my back sunk too much into the old cushions, something was bending my neck at a weird angle, some weight was across my chest, arms thrown above my head onto something heavy. A thick cologne assaulting my senses, and the distant smell of sugar cookies wafting onto me, though with something below those surface senses. A strangely familiar natural scent below that made my body not want to move, that somehow reminded me of better times. I didn’t have much time to question it, and I’d barely opened my unfocused eyes when I saw Tara coming down the steps of my room, briefly tripping on my broken step.

  “I’ve been looking everywhere for him,” the woman complained, checking her phone again, “you have any idea where-”

  Tara froze as she looked up once more, seeming something between surprised and angry as she saw me. I furrowed my brow, trying to figure out what was wrong through my tired brain before I heard the soft snoring above me. With slight horror I looked up, seeing Misha half laid back as he slept on the couch, his arm across my chest and my head in his lap.

  “I fucking knew it!” Tara snapped in her half whisper, burning two fingers against her eyes like it’d rub the sight away, “I fucking knew it, of course he fucking would. I don’t know why I held out any differently.”

  I was confused for a moment before I realized what it must have looked like, and I quickly pulled myself out from under Misha’s arm and rose to my feet as I tried to explain myself.

  “We were just watching a movie last night,” I said quickly, even as I rubbed the sleep from my own eyes, “we didn’t do anything, it was just late and we-”

  “Look I’m not fucking mad at you, don’t talk,” Tara snapped, breathing heavily as she seemed to be holding in her own wolf. “The Lady just wanted you to investigate something and Misha wasn’t answering his phone, I don’t know the fucking details. Do you mind if I have a moment with him?”

  I was about to protest the idea when I saw something in her eyes that made the wolf back down and me slowly nod. Without a word, I quickly grabbed my shirt off the ground, slipping it on and took up my jacket as I left them alone. My room’s door still open, and I quickly stepped out and closed it behind me before anything started.

  I nearly tripped on Lord, who was stretched out in front of my room, and rudely woke the cat from his sleep as he looked up to me in confusion. He seemed annoyed about something, probably getting kicked out, and rose to his feet as he asked me, how was the asshole?

  “We just watched a movie,” I answered a little annoyed, checking my phone and seeing another text message from the same number as yesterday, reading 13 Midnights, Bloodhounds. They really thought this was more intimidating than confusing at this point didn’t they? Only reason I wasn’t calling was trying to keep things from escalating if they didn’t need to, and even then I was tempted to see if someone I knew couldn’t track text messages.

  Good, fucker doesn’t deserve you, the cat said, still focused on Misha and oblivious to anything else as he made me roll my eyes at the complaint.

  “Look, can you not today?” I muttered tiredly, closing my eyes to wait for an attempted migraine to heal away, “I have a lot on my mind, I don’t need to deal with you being weird this early.”

  Lord looked ready to protest, and I silenced him with a raised finger as I went into the kitchen.

  Knives stood at the oven, they liked cooking for their pack and they did most mornings so that they could get out of bed early. Currently wearing a black apron over their well stained blue coveralls, juggling between three pans with a happy whistle. Basil and Andrew sat at the table nearby, laughing and joking with each other about something I didn’t understand, their celebration only quieting down as I entered. Andrew wearing a tanktop and jeans, smelling like Tara and himself, and Basil across from him, wearing jeans and a shirt with some tv show on the front, smelling like old books and paint.

  I was barely three steps into the room when Knives looked back at me, forcing a smile with only a bit of fear behind their eyes as they asked, “how do you like your eggs, cannibal?”

  I froze for a moment, not sure I was actually awake or I was hearing them right; blinking a few times as I looked around in confusion. I thought they were offering to make eggs, and even if they’d called me cannibal and looked scared it'd have sounded…well, genuine.

  “Feeding the cannibal?” Andrew asked with a laugh, sipping his coffee as I glanced back at me. “She tried tearing a chunk out of your arm or something?”

  “She's not that bad!” Knives defended me awkwardly, stepping away briefly to grab my mug from its cabinet and pour me a cup of coffee they sat on the island. “Besides, I’m pretty sure I saw her eat a fucking egg and two sausage patties raw yesterday. If I can get her to eat some regular food, I’m going to, I don’t want to have that sort of repeat breakfast on my conscious.”

  Andrew nodded, seeming genuinely confused by the story as he hesitantly asked, “did you actually eat an egg raw? Like, shell and all or just the insides?”

  “It doesn’t taste that bad,” I admitted, shrugging at the thought as I grabbed my coffee and sat next to Basil after some mental calculations. “The shell’s a little awkward to chew, but you get used to it, and you just gotta be careful to not swallow too soon.”

  Andrew nodded, turning to the other man on a dime to start, “okay, Basil, ten bucks and you-”

  “You two are not fuckign eating raw eggs,” Knives snapped, slapping a spatula against the island. “Now, Mary, how do you want your eggs cooked?”

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  I jumped slightly, looking down as I quickly spat out, “scrambled!”

  “Good girl,” Knives sighed, making me choke on air a moment and the werewolf frown almost immediately afterwards. “Sorry, but yeah that works. Scrambled is quick and easy.”

  “Thank you,” I muttered, suddenly becoming aware of the muffled screaming coming from my room. No one else seemed able to hear it, and I couldn’t make out any words, so I tried to hesitantly observe, “Tara seemed pretty mad at Misha this morning?”

  “Oh yeah, she was looking for him,” Basil said, furrowing his brow at the thought. “Did she ever find him? I know he can be inconsistent about being around, but usually someone has an idea of where he’s at.”

  “Oh yeah, he was sleeping in my room,” I said without thinking, almost immediately getting a strange look from Andrew and Knives.

  It took only a few seconds for me to realize how that sounded, and before I could correct the insinuation Andrew asked, “did you fuck Misha? Because don’t tell Tara, but I do get it even if it’s kinda surprising.”

  “No!” I half-laughed as I raised my hands defensively to the accusation, “we just fell asleep watching movies, nothing happened. I mean, it probably looked like it did to her, but we didn’t.”

  “Eh, Tara was probably just jealous,” Knives admitted, even as they started to make plates. “She had a thing for Misha since I knew her, much as she tried hiding it. Not sure about lately, but wouldn’t be surprised if she were holding onto that.”

  “Oh, she fucking hates him,” Andrew muttered, rolling his eyes at Knives’ accusation. “Besides, didn’t you and Misha date her sister? I’m not sure if Tara’s gonna have a crush on her sister’s boyfriend.”

  “Never underestimate hormones, a flirt’s effect on some women, or said sister being dead five years” Knives muttered, setting plates in front of me and Andrew before going back to grab Basil’s and theirs. “Trust me, I was her mentor when she became a werewolf, and if she wasn’t obvious about it before becoming one, it was obvious after.”

  “So what, teenage crush translates to jealousy?” Andrew rolled his eyes, eating a mouthful of eggs. “It’s Misha, he probably fucked one of her friends, or sleazed on her while she was getting out of the shower or something. Hell, Basil probably has the only ass in this table or pack that he hasn’t slapped — no offense.”

  “None taken.”

  “You know what, I can’t even argue with that one, even if it was an accident for me,” Knives admitted, sighing as they sat with an empty seat between them and Andrew. “I wouldn’t think too much about it. Misha had a few years there where he was yelling at, or getting yelled at by, someone every day. I’m surprised he’s been so well behaved this last year, all things considered. Fucks sake, he keeps this up I’m going to think he’s actually becoming semi respectable.”

  I was about to ask what she meant when the door to my room slammed open, and Tara stormed through the hall. The woman stopped only long enough to yell, “someone can have my breakfast!” into the kitchen, before storming up the stairs.

  Andrew sighed, shaking his head as he rose to his feet, and looked over to me as he pushed his half-finished plate toward me and almost ordered, “eat this, cannibal, you look like you could do with some meat on your ribs.”

  I watched the werewolf leave, frowning a moment as I looked down at myself and hesitantly asked, “do I look…unhealthy?”

  Knives watched him leave and waited for the sound of footsteps to begin fading, sipping their coffee as they told me, “Andrew’s hovering; as long as you’re not starving yourself I wouldn’t worry about it. Just listen to your body, you know?”

  “So I look too thin?” I asked, furrowing my brow as I pulled my dad’s jacket close around me with some sudden confusion.

  “You look like someone who spent years living in the woods,” Knives corrected tenderly, pointing down the hall Andrew had gone. “He spent a couple years living rough, he’s probably just trying to help in his own way.”

  I nodded, hesitantly poking at my meal as I briefly wondered how good I actually looked all things considered. I knew I wasn’t good looking, but I was much prettier than I’d ever been before becoming a werewolf.

  Then again, I’d hated how I’d looked before I had my current body, so maybe I wasn’t the best judge of character, and it would have done me some good to eat a little better.

  Knives had made a good meal: pancakes, sausage, and eggs all together, and it was honestly more than my dad had even done even for my birthdays. It was better tasting too, and I thought it had to have been one of the better meals I’d probably had in my life not from the Diner. Seasoned, cooked, drizzled in syrup, and with a strange spice to the sausage I never picked up on in its raw form or my charcoaled attempts at cooking.

  I wanted more.

  I started to eat perhaps too fast, and ended up swiping the pancakes and sausage remaining off of Andrew’s plate to wolf that down as well. Knives and Basil ended up splitting Tara’s plate, and I helped to stack everything in the sink as we finished.

  “Need any help cleaning?” I asked, swiping a growing cold sausage they’d left behind from what would have been Tara’s plate.

  “The deal is everyone takes turns,” Knives explained, shrugging at the question, “I cook, everyone else takes turns waking up early to start coffee and do the dishes. It’s your turn, right Basil?”

  “It was Tara’s, but I’ll cover her,” the man brushed off, walking up and grabbing the washing gloves off the back of the sink.

  “I can add you to the rotation list,” Knives said, giving me a small smile, “everyone deserves a good breakfast, and it’s not that much harder to make breakfast for five than it is for four. I’ll warn you it’s not always this fancy, usually just sandwiches or whatever I come up with, but felt like going all out since I was going to bring you something. You’re just lucky I like cooking.”

  “Thank you, Knives,” I muttered, smiling as I nervously brushed the hair from my face.

  Knives nodded, and they looked like they were about to say something before Misha stepped into the room, rubbing his jaw while slowly letting it open and close on repeat. I froze at the sight for a moment and slowly walked over, half whispering as I asked, “you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” the man muttered with a shake of his head, “just Tara being very loud very early, I wouldn’t worry about it.”

  “Alright,” I said, nodding a few times with a furrowed brow, “any idea what The Lady wanted?”

  “Oh yeah, murder,” the man said, smiling as though that were good news, “Apartment building in the city; she just wants us to take a look and make sure it’s not supernatural, and I have to agree if we’re getting two suspicious deaths in the same week. Are you good for today, or do you just need me to handle it? I don’t mind giving you the day off, I’m not getting paid enough for that.”

  “I’ll come along, just glad I ate first,” I muttered, getting a small laugh from the man who probably misunderstood what I meant.

  It didn’t matter anyway, I just needed to not breathe in too deeply and deal with it. Murders were easy; we just went in, took a look around, made sure there were no obvious signs of the supernatural. It shouldn’t have even taken up too much time, and maybe I could still keep trying to figure out what was going on with the texts.

  I wasn’t going to ever actually tell him I needed the time if I didn’t get a break today, was I? I hadn’t even asked Misha about going to the wedding yet and I was already having more added to my schedule.

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