If you were so inclined to have at your disposal a secret, semi-underground hideout for people that make it a habit to punch werewolves, where would you put it?
Maybe you'd put it in the seedier, less desirable part of town.
Maybe you'd have the entrance be a secret door in the subway.
What about a fake tree in a public park that would be at home in a Narnia or Wonderland book?
The answer is none of the above, because the man in black led Leta to the Kolonaki neighborhood, where luxury brand stores rubbed elbows with high end Greek boutiques and restaurants.
Orange trees lined the street and filled the air with a citrus fragrance that contrasted with the smell of petrol as cars passed through the narrow streets.
It was a surprisingly short walk from the woods below Lycabettus Hill, about six blocks in total. Leta recognized the butcher shop they passed as the one that she had visited earlier and soon started to recognize other landmarks.
When they stopped in front of a luxury apartment building, Leta stopped and looked up at the cream stucco facade with both surprise and exasperation.
"You've got to be kidding me." She exhaled.
Leta could tell the man in black was frowning through his face mask. "What is it?"
"Your secret base is in the same apartment complex my team is renting."
He shrugged, "We have been here for decades, and we own the building and all buildings connected to this one on all sides."
Leta rolled her eyes on a sigh. "Lord, have mercy… well this is certainly going to make sneaking back to home easier."
It turned out, the man in black and his cohorts had converted the entire top floor of three buildings into one large area that was more modern than she would have guessed. Dark, hardwood floors covered in Persian rugs contrasted with off white walls filled with priceless artwork and…weapons.
Indeed, one wall artfully displayed all manner of weapons, from poleaxes, to Scottish longswords, to Egyptian kopesh, to Japanese katana and naginata, and what looked to be a selection of arquebuses, the predecessor of the more modern musket.
When Leta turned back to the man in black, he was in the process of removing his face mask.
She blinked, shocked at how young he was. He was maybe a year older than her 18 years, if anything, his face square and clean shaven, with thin lips and a nose that had a bump on it's ridge like it had been broken once before.
All told, he truly looked like he was born for the military with his appearance and how he carried himself. Handsome but deadly, like getting too close to a tiger.
"You seem surprised." He said as he removed his outer jacket from his shoulders.
"I thought you'd be older." Leta replied honestly.
"Many make that mistake."
"Koa?" A female voice called out.
From what looked to be a kitchen area came an older woman that appeared to be in her late sixties or early seventies. Long white hair was artfully pulled back from her face in a half bun, and she wore sensible jeans and a long sleeve gray shirt that set off her her blue-gray eyes.
She held a tea towel that she used to whip her hands as if she had just finished making something for dinner.
When she came around the corner and saw Leta, she stopped in her tracks.
"You bring guests." She said slowly, cautiously, as if she couldn't decide to be upset or curious.
"She is Chosen, like us, Eriene. I saved her from the Loupgaru that I was hunting."
"Saved is kind of a strong word." Leta remarked under her breath.
"What would you call that then?" The man in black - Koa - asked with a raised eyebrow.
"I'd say that you assisted in a group project of killing werewolves." She replied with a grin.
"I believe in a group project, there is one person that does all the work, and one person who does not contribute."
"Hey! I got two of them."
The elder Eriene looked at the pair bickering like old maids and shook her head.
"Well, I trust Koa's judgment of people, so a lost Chosen is welcome to our home. Come, sit," She said, pointing to a dining table and chairs, "Let me take a look at that wound."
Leta looked down at her shoulder and realized that her clothing around where the first Loupgaru had bitten her was bloody, despite her wound healing.
"Oh! You don't have to worry about me, ma'am, I'm all healed."
"I'd still like to have a look." Eriene said with the kind smile that only a grandmother could have. "Please help give an old woman some peace of mind."
Obediently, Leta sat and let the Eriene mother her. When the older woman placed her hand over hers, a soft yellow glow seeped between where their skin made contact.
[EXTERNAL SCAN DETECTED.]
"Indeed, you are healed." Eriene nodded as heavy boots came thumping down a side hall.
From the threshold came a mountain of a man, barrel chested with bright red hair and beard and lively green eyes.
"Koa! Yer back." He bellowed in a thick Irish accent, though how he spoke it probably sounded to him as if he were speaking quietly. "An' whose this bonnie lass?"
"Um, I'm Oletta Black… or you could just call me Leta."
"I think our Priestess's magic is too strong for a Blessed to pass through 'ere, so I'll assume our Koa let you in."
"Uh… yes?"
Koa pipped in, "She was attacked by the Loupgaru pack I was hunting. Luckily we were able to kill them all."
"We, ya say." The ginger giant said, eyeing her.
Leta ducked her head in embarrassment at the three strangers staring at her, unconsciously tucking hair behind her ear.
"I…uh… I've got super powers."
There was silence for all two seconds before the giant's booming laugh shook the room.
"Ha! Aye, I'd think ya do, if ya managed to find yourself among our lot." He patted her head like a doting father, "Fear not, lass. You're in good company. You'll find we've all got, as ya say, superpowers here."
He pulled a chair out and sat down across the table from her, burly elbows leaning on the table and causing the wood to moan in protest.
"The name's Alistar McLeod. Ya've already met our healer, Eriene, and our young warrior, Koa. Give me the story, lass, of how ya ended up here. I think this will be a fine tale."