I glanced around the overpriced bar, analyzing every person who sat around me. Being in downtown Oakville, the room was full of men with greying hair and suits wrinkled from their jobs in Toronto. It was only six o'clock in the evening, but the bar was close to full.
"Sorry I'm late, I got stopped on the street," a blonde middle-aged woman said, sitting down across the table from me. I shook her hand across the table. She identified herself as Sharon Banks. The woman wore a pantsuit, and it was well pressed. In the dim lighting, the woman was put together.
"Someone recognize you?" I asked, taking a drink from the beer I had ordered while waiting.
"Sort of, my kind have this aura around us. Ghosts can see it. Won't leave me alone until I grant their request," she explained to me, smiling as the waiter brought over a drink that she must have ordered on the way in. I watched as she downed the martini. Sharon Banks pushed the empty glass to the side.
"Is that what you need help with?"
The woman nodded and pulled out a folded paper from her purse. I opened it to see a name and a date written across it.
"This is the woman who I need you to investigate. Her partner of fifteen years wants to find her. Usually, I ignore these kinds of ghosts, but this guy is hitting the point of aggravated stalking. He followed me into the shower last week which made me break," she explained to me.
I analyzed her for a minute, "you feel bad for this guy?"
She shrugged, "there's that too. I mean, I know I'd want to say goodbye to my husband if I died first."
My eyes flickered down to her left hand. No ring and no tan line indicating she ever wore one. A hypothetical husband.
I took another read of the paper and nodded my head, "I'll get my co-workers to call you when the file is completed. I promise it'll be as thorough as we can get."
"Thank you very much," her head turned to the side and looked to the air, nodding.
"Gary says thanks too," Sharon drank the last mouthful from her glass. She glanced behind me, "there's a cute guy behind us checking you out."
Taking another drink of beer, I thought it knew who it was. Another member of the wolf Pack. He wasn't checking me out, only trying to blend in. There were a few other college kids here, scoping out someone to go home with tonight. I glanced backwards, with a smirk.
It wasn't who I thought. It was a stranger, not completely unattractive but a little creepy as he sent me a smile that made my insides twist.
Realizing it seemed like I was smiling at him, I turned back around.
"No idea who he is," I finished my beer and put the bottle on the table.
"Why don't you flirt with him? He's cute," Sharon said, waving her fingers at him.
"Trust me, it's not a good idea to call him over," I told her.
"Why not?" Sharon had a smile on her face indicating that he was walking over. In that moment, a large male body stopped beside our table. Sharon looked up, her smile turning flirty.
"Hi there, and who are you?"
I sighed not needing to look up, "this is James Blake. He's a member of the Pack as well."
"It's time for us to go," he grumbled, "you got the information?"
"Yes James, we can go. The lady who you're ignoring so rudely is our client, Sharon."
James stuck out his hand, "I'm glad that we can help you with your spook problem," he looked back at me, "can we go please?"
I rolled my eyes as he started walking towards the door.
"I'm sorry, he's antisocial. Perks of being a college student, he has a midterm to study for. I need a spray bottle to teach him manners."
Shaking Sharon's hand, I followed the big grump out of the bar. Unsuspectingly, my face connected with James' back.
"What the hell," I said, pushing him forward. James stumbled a few steps, looking around. I froze when the wind blew a strong scent into my face, warnings sounding in my head. I looked for the source. Confusion flickered in James' eyes. I placed my hand on his arm to get his attention. James glanced down at me for a moment, going back to surveying the area.
"Who is that?" I asked, taking in the scent of werewolf again.
"I don't recognize it. It's not fresh, someone was probably just passing through," he said, sounding like he was trying to convince himself.
"Do you want to check it out?"
"No. I'm not comfortable following it with just the two of us and no one else being close enough for back-up," he grumbled, "let us go home."
I smirked to myself. James usually was less grumpy, but the upcoming week of midterms and assignments were getting to him. I was feeling the pressure too, but James' attitude was amusing.
James appeared to be casual, walking to the car but I could see in his tight shoulders and the movement of his head back and forth, he was trying to catch the unfamiliar scent again. My own senses were on high alert too.
It was silent on the way back to our house. Glancing at James, I knew he was worried about the scent. Strays weren't meant to be on Pack territory. Oakville was considered Pack territory while we went to school there.
"That scent wasn't new. It had to be a couple days old. It could've been some wolf coming through town. They probably didn't even know better. It's nothing to worry about," I reassured him.
James nodded his head, adjusting his hands on the steering wheel. I took the page of information from my pocket. This wasn't the first living spouse we'd been hired to track down for a necromancer. It was just one of the services the Pack had begun to offer, trying to get us more integrated with the community. Fifty years of Pack solitude was something we were trying to change.
"I'm going to go for a run once we get home. Do you want to come with me?" I asked, messing with my fingernails.
James sighed, "I've got to hand in that assignment tomorrow," James began shaking his head out of annoyance, "I can't get my mind around those equations still."
"I told you to get a tutor. It's not that expensive," I pulled my phone out, to text my father and update him on how the meeting went.
"And I told you that I'm not paying another person to teach me something that the original person should have been able to. I'll be able to figure it out by myself or look it up."
"Which is just like paying another person for their version of how to explain it but this way, you don't have to admit to anyone you need help," I said, in a matter-of-fact voice. James glared at me, and I shut up, a smirk on my face.
I could understand why he was so uncomfortable about getting a tutor. James was usually one of the top students in his classes. He didn't take bad marks well. For the rest of the ride, I looked out the window and decided not to rile him up anymore.
The night was quiet. I'd decided to stalk a squirrel and make dinner out of him. Squirrels didn't taste particularly good, especially city squirrels that ate garbage, but I wasn't going to run around looking for a rabbit when it wasn't completely dark outside yet. The area of Oakville where we lived had a thick ravine running through it. The beauty of it was no humans often walked through here.
Other than tonight apparently. I was finishing the final mouthful of meat attached to the squirrel, when I heard loud voices coming my way. Dashing to the closest bush, I stuffed myself under it. Curiosity hit me about why someone would be walking through the woods at night. When the smell hit me, I knew. The three teenagers passed a joint between them, giggling and shushing each other. I didn't even have to hide for them not to notice me. They were too absorbed in their conversation to have seen me.
As they passed the bush I hid in, the teenage boy closest to me flicked the remaining stub of the joint in my direction. It hit my nose, and I shook my head, the embers surprising me. I froze as the leaves rattled and the teenagers looked around, stopping. Of course, they noticed that. Thankfully, it was dark enough that they couldn't tell which bush it was coming from.
"What was that?" one of them asked.
"Probably just a squirrel, calm down."
"I don't know, it sounded big," the guy who threw the joint into the bush said, stepped towards me. I rose slightly, ready to run away if they came any closer. I hoped that they were stoned enough to assume I was a coyote.
"It's a raccoon then. Don't mess with those, they will claw your eyes out. We aren't sober enough for that fight."
The guy looked at his friends and then back to the bush, unknowingly looking me right in the eye. He mumbled something and continued walking, following his friends. When they were far enough away, I huffed in relief.
The sun had almost set completely, and the wind seemed to finally calm down. It'd been a typical fall day in Canada, something I yearned for every year. My feet rested on a log, back against the ground and trying not to fall asleep. It'd been a long day filled with classes about the history of journalism and languages. Two classes at the opposite ends of the difficulty spectrum.
My phone went off, breaking the whispers of the wooded area. I sighed, unlocking it. It was a project related group message and the people I was working with had been avidly trying to meet. I wasn't in the mood to do anything productive, especially be around a bunch of humans doing homework. I may have lived down the road from the campus, but I knew these people could work until the early hours of the morning. I read through the chat, ignoring the sound of approaching footsteps. I was hidden well enough that a person would have to step on me to find me.
"I'm surprised to find you awake," I rolled my eyes upwards at James leaning on a tree. His eyes were sparkling against the rising moonlight, wearing a sly smirk that his hair was just long enough to start covering. I shrugged, looking back at my phone when it beeped again. He sat down beside me and I embraced the warmth, blocking the wind. I put my phone on silent, sliding it in my back pocket. Resting my head on his thigh, I curled up.
"I thought you were finishing your assignment?"
"I was but I decided against throwing a textbook through the window. Plus, Brandon wouldn't shut up."
I nodded. Brandon Kane, one of our housemate's classes were mainly online, and he was a night owl. Therefore, when he got bored, we all got interrupted.
"Have you spoken with Charlie tonight?" James asked, running the ends of my hair through his fingers.
I shook my head, "no but I'll call him later. He's probably going to be up late working anyways."
Charlie was my father, but also the Alpha of the Canadian Pack of werewolves. Just like any protective parent, he wanted me to call him every night while I was away at school and James pretty much had to remind me every night. I did eventually call him but not frequently enough, frustrating both immensely.
James let out a laugh and put his hands under my arms, yanking me up. I started to squirm away, him hitting my ticklish spots. James ignored me, cuddling my body against his and lying on the ground. He was in a much better mood than a few hours ago.
"Whatever, I'm too tired to deal with you," he grumbled. Usually, I would have made a comment about how I was the one who was literally stuck against him. I didn't though, only rolled my eyes. I had to agree with him, I was exhausted too. School may have only started six weeks ago but second year was worse, being thrown large assignments that didn't let you sleep. Tossing one arm over his torso, I rested my head on his chest and closed my eyes, embracing the peace of the evening.
I didn't expect to fall asleep though.
"This is what happens when you two spend the night in the woods," Scarlett Olsen, one housemates said. She, along with our other two housemates sat at the kitchen table finishing their breakfasts.
"Oh, shut up, Scar. It happens," James growled, printing off his assignment. He tapped his foot against the floor, getting impatient. I let out a silent laugh, reading the last pages of my homework.
"It happens sure, but only to you two."
All of us, except James, started laughing. I found the situation humorous, but I guess that was because I didn't have any time sensitive assignments due today like James.
"Yo, Ashlyn. Pass me an apple," Brandon Kane asked me. I barely turned, throwing the apple to him. He reached up in the air, catching my overthrow. The printer let out a beeping sound.
"Chloe are you seriously trying to print something right now?" James said to our third and final housemate. Chloe Martin stood beside me; her laptop opened on the counter while she ate her cereal. She turned, the tips of her long black hair just barely missing my face.
"You're almost done, are you not?" She asked, innocently. I knew that she knew he was. Chloe was a psychic.
"Yes," James grumbled, snatching his papers that the printer had just finished spewing out. He rushed upstairs, probably to get the file folder he'd forgotten. Chloe let out a soft laugh, picking up her two pieces that had come from the printer. I heard the scratch of something leaving Brandon's hand at a high speed and I spun just in time to catch the apple core heading straight for my head.
"If that had gotten in my hair, I would've killed you."
Brandon shrugged his shoulders as his phone alarm went off. Time to go to school. Chloe placed her bowl in the sink and walked past me, "see you later Ashlyn."
Before I could ask why she had said something so ominous, my phone began to ring on the counter. "Hello?"
"Ashlyn, how did the meeting go with the necromancer?" my father, Charlie's voice asked through the phone. I rolled my eyes. My father had great managers.
"It went smoothly. She told us about the spirit that's been following her and causing problems. Seems it's a lover who never got to say goodbye. The information she gave us is the name and phone number. I gave it to Brandon already and he's going to start looking into it," I explained.
"Make sure he sends the information to Kurtis. Brandon should be focusing on his schoolwork more than this assignment."
"Got it dad, I'll let him know when they get home from class," I smirked to myself. I had already told Brandon to give the information to Kurtis and to focus on his schoolwork. This wasn't my first-time getting information for a case.
"Is there anything else? I've got an arson case that a fire-hand asked me to look at," I heard papers shuffling around through the earpiece of the phone.
"As ironic as that sounds, there's one more thing that I should probably tell you about," I said, sitting down at the kitchen table. James stood at the kitchen door; arms crossed. I stuck my hand out, giving him a face that asked why he hadn't left for school yet. James tapped his watch and I nodded. His class wasn't until this afternoon.
Charlie made a sound in his throat in acknowledgement that I should continue talking.
"When James and I were leaving the bar, we picked up a scent. No one we recognized and it was starting to get old. I'm going to guess about three hours before we noticed it. We didn't follow it."
"There's no Strays supposed to be in Oakville, let alone Ontario," my father stated, exactly what we'd said last night. A Stray was a werewolf who wasn't a member of the Pack. The slang had been around since before I was born.
During the pause of silence, I heard him typing on his computer.
"What do you want us to do about it? We could possibly go back to the bar and catch the scent again. It won't be easy, but it'd be a fun challenge between James and Brandon."
"As much as the others and myself would like to see that video footage, that wouldn't be efficient. You'd lose the scent before you made any progress. Would you mind checking some Strays' aliases? See if any credit cards have been used in the province," Charlie instructed.
"Sounds good."
"Let me know," Charlie said bluntly, hanging up.
I tossed my phone on to the table and rubbed my face with my hands. I guess I wasn't going to class today. I pushed my chair back from the table. James was leaning against the doorframe.
"What does your dad want us to do?"
"He asked me to look up some aliases, see if any of the Strays have come into Ontario," I said, walking past him.
After grabbing my laptop from the living room, I went back to the kitchen. James stood in the doorway with his arms crossed. I cocked my head and raised an eyebrow, sending out a fake threatening look. Pushing past him, we both started laughing. James Blake didn't often act childish. When he let loose of his uptight personality, it was almost like a different person.
Putting my laptop down on the table and taking a seat, I turned to James with a large grin on my face. "Will you grab me a notebook out of my backpack? Pen too, please?"
James sighed, rolling his eyes. Without a word, he went and came back.
"Thank you," I grinned up at him and James rolled his eyes again. He left the kitchen and a few seconds later, I heard the television turn on in the living room.
"No, no, really, I don't need the help. There aren't a vast number of Strays in Canada that I have to look up because they all have a multitude of aliases," I mumbled to myself, opening the systems we used.
"I heard that," James said from the other room.
"There's a reason I said it," I responded, my voice not raising higher than normal speaking tone. Perk of being a werewolf. Great hearing.
"Do you want to go workout when you're done? I'm feeling antsy."
I stuck my middle finger up even though James could not see me.
I lost track of time researching and recording the aliases that we knew of. There had to be at least nine or ten Strays we kept track of, and each had at least four aliases. There were a few werewolves in the country we assumed we weren't aware of, but I wouldn't spend my time looking for them right now.
At the two-hour mark, James wandered back into the kitchen and rummaged around the fridge. I was on the phone with Matthew Andrews, a Pack member who lived in British Columbia. We were discussing a Stray named Taylor Malik.
Feeling a small tap on the back of head, I sat up from my slouching position to turn around and stared James leaning on the counter with a bowl of grapes in his hands. He smirked, rolling a grape between his fingers. I turned back to the table, writing down the information that Matthew was giving me.
I jumped slightly when a second grape hit me in the side of the face. This time I glared at James, who plopped a grape in his mouth.
"Ashlyn?"
"Yes sorry, James is being distracting. What was that name you gave me?" I asked, writing it down. After another few minutes of discussion, I hung up the phone. I started typing in the first name that I discussed with Matthew.
I heard James's footsteps coming towards me and I prayed that he would just read over my shoulder silently, so I would be able to finish the work. Feeling another grape hit the side of my head, I spun in my chair and dropped the pen I held onto the table. James was now leaning against the wall between the kitchen and living room, an irksome smirk on his face.
"Are you done being a pain in the ass? I'd like to make sure there aren't any Strays lurking around. So, unless you would like to help, please go back to the living room.," I snapped at James. I decided to mess with James like he had been doing with me. As I spoke, I walked to the living room, looking out the window. Getting a reaction from James was fun. If he thought I was mad, his behaviour became puppy-like. James followed me into the living room.
"Awe Ashlyn, lighten up. You need to have a little fun."
"Says you," I scoffed, turning to him, "if my father had asked you to do that job, you would've been locked up in your room until you had every single detail down and perfect."
James walked up to me, making himself close enough to drape his arms around my neck in a loose hug. "Maybe, but I would like to have you locked up with me."
I made a sound of disgust, knowing he was getting into more than a playful mood. I tried to walk away but James tightened his arms. I was only able to spin around, my back now to James's chest.
"You know, you're pretty much done now. You can relax and enjoy the rest of the morning," James nudged my neck with his nose, "we have the house all to ourselves. How often does that happen?"
James kept one arm around my neck while the other went to my waist, rubbing his hand back and forth on my stomach, sparking my nerves.
"We could go for a run in the woods after. Feel the dirt on our bare feet, roll around on the grass, catch a rabbit or two," James places small kisses on my neck while he described the outside, tempting me. My head dropped back as I imagined the stomach-knotting thrill of a hunt. I was suddenly left standing alone, James's arms no longer around me. I spun around, and he hadn't moved other than his arms, a different smirk on his face. He knew that he'd gotten to me. I could see the excitement in his eyes. I knew mine reflected the same thing.
"You suck," I choked out.
Before he could response, I shoved James backwards against the wall, my lips attaching to his. His chest vibrated from laughter. I stepped backwards but James didn't let me go far. I was spun around and slammed against the wall. From both of our forceful shoves, we may have left a dent. It wouldn't have been the first time we left a mark on a building. James lifted me up by my thighs and re-connected our mouths.
This happened from time to time. James and I would give over to lustful teenage hormones. Neither of us were the random hookups type. James was too reserved for the girls he knew from school, and I'd decided early on that I didn't have interest for the men and women I met here. The lust wasn't always from a sexual attraction to each other. It didn't matter. It took over entirely.
James pinned me against another wall at the bottom of the stairs. I yanked at his shirt, and somehow while holding me, James got it off. I pulled back just long enough to enjoy the muscular body in front of me. My eyes jumped to a few long scars that ran across his chest. If I took a second, I remember the stories of how he got most of them. James growled, the sound sending a shiver through me. It was a sound of possession and a loss of patience. With his hand on the back of my neck, James roughly brought my face back to his. Releasing my neck, James tugged up my shirt, but I was still tempted to tease him, no plan on moving to take it off. James seemed to lose the last of his patience then and yanked, ripping up the side seam of the shirt. I wasn't upset about it. I ground my hips against James, tempting him to destroy more to get what he wanted. His hands shifted, one moving underneath me, grabbing my rear tightly and the other making a fist and punching the wall, making a small hole. With that action, I knew he was trying to keep himself from taking this farther. I knew the ways to make his resolve break completely. It wouldn't take long.
"Ah! Ew! What the hell? Children in the room!"
James growled, out of annoyance this time. I dropped my legs from around his waist, but James kept me between him and the wall, hand still on my butt and the other on the wall. We'd missed the sounds of the door opening and closing it seemed. Brandon was the one screaming, completely overreacting. He had his eyes covered, but a look of terror and disgust written on his face. His drama was unnecessary. It wasn't the first time he'd walked in on James and me being intimate. Scarlett and Chloe peaked out from behind Brandon, knowing smirks on their faces.
"You two are so horny, I don't understand it sometimes," Chloe said.
"Werewolves have a high libido," Brandon mumbled, kicking his shoes off with his hands awkward half-covering his face. I snorted at his prudishness. Brandon was a flirt, proven by the weekend long flings with the women who fell for his charm.
Scarlett put her hair up and walked past James and me, "don't you have to hand in your assignment?"
James' head dropped back and sighed with disappointment. His assignment had obviously slipped his mind and it was worth a large percentage of his grade. He couldn't risk handing it in late. I patted him on the chest, smirking up at him.
"I'll come with you."
"That's what she said!" Brandon called from the kitchen.