I sat up in bed the next day, wearing one of my under dresses and with several pillows stacked under my back so I could almost sit-up. A romance novel Sigyn had loaned me, about some Victorian woman and her vampire suitor, was laid out in my lap and made for a good way to kill time. Not a complicated book, a part of me still felt self doubting enough to trace the words with a pen while occasionally sounding something out.

  It was a boring slow burn, and it probably wasn’t winning any awards for quality, but it let me pass the time and I was able to regularly set it aside and focus on whatever movie I played for background noise instead. Besides that, I was just passing the hours until Allie came by with her research and I could start working, and didn’t really feel it was proper to start anything important. Samuel had cleared me for light paperwork, telling The Lady such, and while I was wanting to push those limits it wasn’t like I needed to do so right away.

  My basement room was simple, though I’d taken some steps to make it a little better in the last few months. My bed frame was heavily worn, second hand and rough looking wood, as was my dresser and couch, all things I’d had a year ago now. Since then though I’d replaced my old metal table, getting a small wooden one I could sit four chairs tightly around, and a small three shelf bookshelf from a thrift store. A desk was set up in the limited space I had, with a second hand sewing machine on it alongside stacks of cheap fabric patterns I’d crafted under Calliope’s guidance.

  The room was starting to feel lived in, even if just barely, and while the book shelf just had one shelf of cheap paperbacks and a game book, the top of the dresser was crowded between folded clothes and a shrine to the wolf gods, and the only wall decorations was a badly hung trans pride flag and old Martyrs poster I’d been gifted, it was nice.

  It was my room, the bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling and the rickety pair of stairs heading outside and upstairs, and even the bathroom that only mostly worked now, not stopping my love. This was the first place I had genuinely been able to call my own, and I wasn’t letting anyone take that from me.

  I was still appreciating the room in a sort of prideful glaze when my door opened, making me jump slightly at the noise, and I distantly heard Lord yelling, Let me in to see her, even as someone else comforted him. A few seconds later, the door closed once more, and I heard footsteps slowly coming down to my room with a gentle huff.

  It was Andrew, wearing a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt, with a small plastic bag in one hand and my knitting bag in the other. Vague smells of beer from a bartender job, Tara’s sugar cookie perfume, and his own scents quickly making their way through my room. He looked at me, annoyed, and I saw him close his eyes as he took a moment and held the items close to his chest. I looked up at him, and he stood there several seconds before asking, “what the fuck were you thinking, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “Depends what you’re talking about,” I said, sighing as I bookmarked my book and sat it aside.

  Andrew tossed the bag and folder beside me and dug through the former, pulling out a roll of twenties wrapped in a rubber band. He held it up to me, and I slowly reached out to take it as he explained, “Vergil stopped by yesterday to drop that off for you. I fucking pressed him about why this was yours, and he told me you were placing bets on yourself in fights.”

  “Easy money,” I said, frowning as I turned the roll over in my hands, trying to count it out in a way that didn’t look like me ignoring him, “just, fight once or twice a month and make as much as I make at my job. I’m a good fighter, the healing helps, there’s literally no fucking way for me to lose.”

  “Jesus fuck, Mary the problem isn’t the risk of losing money,” the man said, looking ready to snap at me, “where the fuck should I start? You’re a werewolf, all it takes is one person noticing you healing to ruin everything. We had no fucking idea where you were, only Vergil did, The Lady didn’t know what you were doing and I thought you were working.”

  “Look, I don’t need to tell you everything I do, it’s perfectly safe,” I said, trying to calm him down as I raised my hand.

  “You got shot five fucking times,” the man countered, and I couldn’t argue with that, “I’m still supposed to be your fucking parole officer, when you get in trouble The Lady asks me what I knew about it. How do you think it looked when I had to tell her I thought she had told you to go out there?” I stopped, not sure how I could even respond to it, and the man shook his head as he told me, “for the time being, you’re on a short leash. If you need to fucking go anywhere, you tell me, and I supervise you.”

  “Fucks sake, are you kidding me?” I asked, my face turning up at the idea of needing an escort of all things, “I get fucking attacked once and suddenly you’re going to baby me?”

  “I’m not babying you, but if you get in trouble I’m getting blamed for it,” Andrew said, finally pulling out my purse and phone from the bag and tossing them at me. “Do us both a favor, and don’t give The Lady a reason to execute us, how does that sound?”

  I nodded, looking away from him as I slowly muttered, “I’m sorry.”

  Andrew stared at me for a second, and looked ready to walk off a moment before he paused and walked back to me. He let out a small sigh and, resting his hand on my shoulder, told me, “please take it easy, let me know if you need anything.”

  “Can you let Lord in?” I asked, laying my head back against the pillows, “I haven’t seen him in days, he’s probably worried sick about me.”

  “Samuel said not to let him in, so he wasn’t climbing all over you,” Andrew tried saying, stopping as we met eyes.

  I looked up at him for a moment, trying my best attempt at puppy dog eyes, and I whispered, “Andy, please.”

  And Andrew stared down at me for several seconds before he finally looked away and declared, “Don’t call me Andy,” the man patting my shoulder a few times before swinging around and going back towards my steps, “if Samuel complains you’re fucking dealing with it.”

  “Yes, sir,” I said, half-heartedly saluting him with a roll of my eyes even as the man left me.

  The door to my room opened, and Andrew said something before closing it again. The soft sound of pattering footsteps rolling down my steps, and I adjusted myself as Lord jumped up on the sheets next to me.

  Lord was a large black and white cat, nearly as around as he was long and adorably fluffy. He looked me over a long moment and then rested his forehead against my shoulder as he let out a comforting purr to ask, how’s my favorite milf doing?

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  “In pain,” I said, smiling as I reached out to gently scratch behind his ears, “you hear what happened?”

  Hunting accident? The man asked in a tone that made me think he was joking, and he got a small laugh for it.

  “Something like that,” I admitted, leaning forward with a groan of pain to pull my knitting bag closer, “I should be good to move around by tomorrow morning, I wouldn’t worry too hard about me.”

  I went to pull out my needles and current project, frowning as I saw a piece of paper laid on top of the bag. It took me a moment to remember what it was, and when I did I smiled as I laid back and took a second long look at the drawing. Lord coming up beside me to see what the fuss was about, slowly tilting his head as he looked it over with some confusion as he finally asked, where’d you get that?

  “Just, girl Sigyn introduced me to,” I said, smiling as I traced my fingers along the lines, “she wants me to model for some art project.”

  Oh a nude painting? Lord asked, perking his head up.

  “I hope not,” I said with a roll of my eyes, even as I picked up my phone and dialed the number Barbie had written down for me. “I already have the feeling I’m going to regret agreeing to this.”

  Can I come if it is? I promise I’ll behave, Lord begged, and I pushed him off the bed as the phone rang in my ears.

  A few seconds later the ringing stop the reception sounding hollow as she answered, “hey, this is Barbs, how’s it going?”

  “Hey, this is Mary, we met the other night,” I said, staring off into space as I wondered what the fuck I was doing. I already had too much on my plate, I was going to have even more soon if anything went wrong with either issue I was dealing with. I didn’t need to go doing this sort of thing. “Sigyn’s friend, I don’t know if you remember me I-”

  “Oh, Mary!” Barbie chirped happily, letting out a small wave of giggles that seemed to cause some static, as I wondered how bad my signal must have been. I was fucking calling in a basement in the middle of an artificial woods, but fuck my phone was acting up again, “I was worried I wouldn’t hear back from you, how’s it going?”

  “I’m fine, just been a busy few days,” I said, almost finding some humor in the fact it might have seemed like a lie to her. “I…I was thinking about what…well, I heard and I thought you were saying. You wanted me to model for something, right?”

  “Oh, I definitely wanted to hang with you, but you’d be perfect for this project too if you wanted an excuse,” she said, sounding almost giddy as she explained, “I’m supposed to do a half-length portrait using a live model. They have programs through the school where they have models come in a few times a week, but I wanted to do my best on this. It's going to be my final.”

  “Alright, what would you need me to do?” I asked, giving a small laugh that made me wince in pain. I was acting like a fucking weirdo about this. “my job lets me pick my own hours, so there’s a lot I can do if you need me in at specific times.”

  “Oh that’s perfect,” the girl squeaked.

  Another wave of static went through the phone and I frowned as I asked, “is everything okay, I’m not annoying you right now? My phone’s fucking up I think, and I don’t know if it’s messing with you too.”

  “Oh, no, sorry, this is my parent’s landline, I lost my phone last week,” the woman said, sounding almost nervous, “I have terrible fucking luck keeping them, honestly not sure if I should replace it at this point.”

  “Glad I didn’t think to text then,” I said, smiling as I looked up at the ceiling, “so, nothing weird I’d need to do for this modeling? Do you just take some picture, or what? How does this sort of thing work?”

  “Ideally you sit down for different sessions. I’m a fast painter, three or four hours twice a week, I could have it done well in time for its due date,” she said, almost making it sound like less of a commitment than it was, “I can take some reference images, get a little done between sessions, use our in-person time for some real progress. Would that work for you, when could you do that sort of thing?”

  “I can start tomorrow if you really fucking need me,” I said, the offer more joking than not.

  Barbie squealed in excitement at the news, and she quickly asked, “you want to come over around nine? I don’t have classes, and my dad will be at work, it’d be perfect, I could make breakfast and everything. I mean, only if you can, I know it’s short notice.”

  I laid there silent for a long moment, considering telling her I couldn’t make it on principle alone. Instead, I shook my head and slowly answered, “I can make nine, anything special you need me to wear?”

  “Something you don’t mind sitting still for hours while wearing, and you can wear to each session,” she answered, sounding proud even as she added on, “I…you know, just, have fun with it I guess.”

  “You’re gonna regret telling me that, I have this really nice dress, looks two hundred years old,” I said, even if I was a little proud at the outfit, “what’s your address? It sounds like you’re not staying in a dorm.”

  “Oh, I’ll call Sigyn, ask her to text it to you, I’m just off campus,” Barbie said, the smile coming through her voice, “see you tomorrow, any diet restrictions or anything?”

  “Nothing you have to worry about,” I told her, pretty sure she wasn’t the sort of person who started who mornings killing and eating someone.

  “I’ll see you then, Mary, just…” she stopped for a moment, the tense silence an almost deafening weight before she finally muttered, “can you call ahead by like five minutes? Just, see if you need to hold back or anything? I can explain tomorrow, it’s a long story.”

  “Not a problem, I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said, smiling as I hung the phone up, staring up at the ceiling as I wondered what I’d gotten myself into. Lord jumped up beside me once more, and I felt a paw rest on my forehead as I said, “well, looks like I need to tell Andrew I’m blocking out some time each week.”

  Sounds like you have a date, Lord responded, and I ignored him even as I heard a knock on my door upstairs. I called to come in, and they knocked again, and when I yelled this time the door opened and I heard footsteps come down.

  Allie walked over beside my bed, dressed in a blue sundress, her hair pulled up in a bun and a half-inch thick manila folder of papers under her arm. I held my hand out, and she passed the papers over even I asked, “fuck, this the full case on Phillip?”

  “No, this is the result of me doing some investigation into previous mysterious disappearances we had marked as suspicious,” Allie said, and I nodded as I slowly took in how heavy the folder was.

  “So, this is the full case on how many people then?” I asked, furrowing my brow as I opened the folder up and scanned through the first few pages.

  My heart dropped after just the first few seconds, and Allie confirmed what I was seeing as she answered, “I’m…five years back now? It’s getting to be less and less people, but…yeah, it’s not slowing down at all.”

  “How many fucking people is this?” I said, trying to pull apart the files on a name by name basis.

  “Twenty-four so far this year,” Allie said, furrowing her brow as she seemed to try remembering, “fifty last year, mostly in the fall semester. Fifteen, twelve, and sixteen in the years before that. All went missing, with no real investigation done; and get this, most of them are missing persons reports but some of them are people saying they saw their friends attacked and dragged off. You marked almost every case from the last two years for investigation, Misha did the rest, and I handled all of them.”

  “Why the fuck haven’t the mortal police caught on?” I asked even as he words finally settled in and I spat out, “I don’t fucking remember half this shit, what are you talking about?”

  “I don’t remember any of this either, and I wondered the same thing, so I decided to do some quick phone calls,” Allie explained, picking up a few of the folders I’d sat aside, “I called three names from each year, and you want to know what happened? None of them knew who I was talking about, remembered filing a police report, or anything. I can find paper evidence these people existed, but nothing else. I checked our own call logs, and you had me call asking about a few of these disappearances in the first few days after they happened.”

  I nodded, slowly looking at the folders, at dates, at everything on the page, and I shook my head as I told her, “tell The Lady, I’m taking on this case immediately. I don’t care if I’m investigating the hunter too, this is something we need to do something about.”