Cass pulled into the empty lot of the Sleepy Tin Motel, the hum of her engine cutting off as the tired, neon sign flickered overhead. The "S" in "Sleepy" had long since burnt out, leaving the words 'Leepy Tin' barely legible. The parking lot was cracked in places, weeds poking through the concrete like forgotten memories, and the air had the faint scent of mildew, as though the place had soaked in years of damp autumns and never fully dried out.
The sky above was a foggy orange, the sunlight shrouded by the frost of autumn barely holding on before a cold winter. She sat for a moment, hands resting on the steering wheel as she tried to collect her thoughts.
After leaving Uriel's place, she'd stopped by her house for a change of clothes. As always, her dad had ignored her which was nice because explaining the sex hair would have been awkward so she'd checked her pantry, wrote a grocery list and played with her cat. She taken the time to get the rest of the Uriel funk out of her system because she could not keep thinking about jerking a mafia boss off in his kitchen while she was supposed to be working. No matter how hot it was watching him thrust into her hands and how sexy his groans sounde—
No!
She rubbed a hand over her face, mentally shaking herself free of those thoughts. This wasn't about Uriel's hot rough groans. She was here for Jamee, and the Vorvolak investigation. Hopefully, he was around.
Her eyes scanned the motel driveway, and a flicker of relief settled in her chest when she spotted Jamee's motorcycle parked in front of Room 13. She couldn't imagine him going anywhere without it.
Cass stepped out of her car and made her way toward his room. She felt the chill of the chill air prickle against her skin, but her mind was elsewhere—on duty, on murder sites, on monsters she couldn't track.
Reaching the door, she knocked, the wood under her knuckles a little softer than it should have been. From inside, she heard the muffled sounds of movement, then Jamee's voice calling out, "One second!"
A few more rustling sounds, and then the door swung open to reveal Jamee mid-movement, tugging a shirt over his head. The brief glimpse of his sculpted abs caught her a little off guard, but she quickly blinked it away, her face neutral as he stepped outside, running a hand through his still-damp-from-a-recent-shower long, blonde hair.
His blue eyes scanned her from head to toe before landing back on her face. "You look like you had a fun night," he said, a teasing smile pulling at his lips.
Cass felt her cheeks heat, and she shifted her gaze to the side. "That's one way to put it," she muttered, trying to sound casual.
Jamee laughed, the sound warm and easy, before he shut the door behind him. She noticed he didn't invite her in, but she didn't dwell on it. It was his motel room, after all. He probably liked keeping his private space... well, private.
He sat down on the raised walkway of the line of rooms, the cracked concrete steps offering a decent enough spot to sit, and Cass followed suit, sitting beside him. The air between them was comfortable, quiet. A soft breeze blew through the lot, cool but not biting.
After a few moments of silence, Cass cleared her throat. "So, any updates? On the Vorvolak, I mean."
Jamee leaned back slightly, resting his elbows on his floor beside him as he glanced over at her. "I went out to the site of the first murder last night," he said, referring to the Old Cub Scouts Campground where Simon McMichael had been found. "Tried some tracking spells. But... the trail's too faint. There wasn't enough to get a proper lead."
Cass felt a sharp pang of disappointment. Her lips pressed together as she stared out at the empty parking lot. She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting—maybe that Jamee would have some magical solution that would fix everything—but she couldn't help the low sigh that escaped her.
"Oh," she said quietly. The single word carried more weight than she intended, the frustration seeping through.
They sat in silence for a beat. The breeze picked up, carrying with it the faint rustling of leaves from a nearby tree. The world seemed too still, too peaceful for what they were dealing with. A supernatural monster was out there, somewhere, lurking, waiting.
Cass broke the silence first. "Thank you," she said, her voice a little softer than before. "For your hard work. I know this isn't easy."
Jamee's lips curled into a half-smile, though the tiredness in his eyes was hard to miss. "Duty calls," he replied, his tone light but tinged with something deeper. "And I have a personal stake in this now. Can't just let the Vorvolak keep picking people off. Gotta stop it before the town gets completely wiped out."
Cass's heart swelled with a mix of respect—and something else she didn't want to name. She understood that sense of duty, that pull to protect others even when the odds were stacked against you. It was the same thing that drove her as a cop, as someone who felt responsible for the people in this town.
A smile tugged at her lips, a little sad but genuine. "You probably think it's weird," she said quietly, "that I care so much about these people. The ones I protect."
Jamee chuckled softly, the sound like gravel underfoot. "Yeah. Cops aren't famously known for caring about the welfare of the people," he teased.
Cass rolled her eyes, reaching out to swat at his arm. "Shut up." Then her expression turned serious, her voice lowering. "It's not just that. I'm... I'm a werewolf. I'm not supposed to care about 'Moonblinds,'" she made air quotes around the word. "At least, that's what my old pack used to say. 'Humans are weak, naked bipeds. Unblessed by the goddess. Our business is with our own kind.'" She shook her head, her voice tinged with old bitterness.
Jamee nodded thoughtfully. "Aetherkin can be like that. Especially werewolves. You guys are... very in-group-y. No offense."
Cass let out a short laugh, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I'm not a werewolf, Jamee." Her voice was quieter now, more vulnerable. "At least... not really."
Jamee turned to face her more fully, his brows furrowing slightly. "What do you mean?"
Cass inhaled deeply, steeling herself for what she was about to say. This wasn't something she talked about often. "My mom... she was a beta in the pack. A leader in their army, actually. But one day, she met my dad. And he's human." Cass smiled a little, but it was more a smile at the memory than any present joy. "No one had ever heard of a werewolf being mated to a human. I don't know why the goddess made it that way, but she did. My mom didn't question it. She argued that her mate was her mate, and the pack didn't have the right to deny her that."
She could feel Jamee's gaze on her, listening intently, but she kept her eyes forward, focused on the distant horizon.
"There was a lot of tension between her and the pack. They thought being with a human was a risk—exposing the pack, attracting Hunters. But my mom... she wouldn't reject my dad. So they struck a deal. We lived on the outskirts of pack territory, in a little cabin in the woods. Away from the others." Cass's voice softened, the memories washing over her like waves against a shore. "We were happy, though. At least for a while."
Her throat tightened. She hadn't talked about this in years. Not since her dad had shut down and she was left to navigate the world on her own.
"I remember my dad carrying me on his shoulders and running around. I remember feeling so safe in his arms even when I was flying. My mom would sit with me on the couch, reading books while I cuddled into her side." She paused, the memory so vivid, so clear, that it hurt. "But then... everything changed."
Cass's voice grew quieter. "As part of the agreement, my mum never shifted around my dad. And I didn't know what she was until I was around four. She took me to the main compound for the first time and told me about my kind. I got to see her wolf. She—" her voice broke— "she was beautiful. But, the pack wasn't kind. The adults whispered things like 'half-blood whelp' when they thought I wasn't listening. The other kids... they played with me for a little while. Until their parents told them not to."
Jamee's brow furrowed, his gaze softening as he watched her.
"I never had my first shift," she continued, her voice steady but hollow. "I had the strength, the speed, the senses... but no wolf. The goddess stayed far away from me. The others said it was because I wasn't pure. Because I wasn't fully one of them." Her hand absentmindedly traced over the faint lines on her wrist. "My mom fought for us, but... the pack grew more hostile. They wanted us gone. And then, one night after my tenth birthday... our house caught fire."
Jamee's breath hitched softly, but he said nothing. He just listened.
"My dad got me out, but my mom... she stayed behind to get something important. She never made it out. I can still remember my father wailing her name. Like he'd lost a part of his soul. Like…" she trailed off, swallowing down the lump that had formed in her throat, "Like his voice would somehow reach her from the beyond. By the time the fire was out, there was nothing left. The pack didn't help. They used it as an excuse to finally kick us out. Said we were a liability."
Cass swallowed hard, blinking back the old tears that threatened to resurface. "My dad tried, but he was never the same after that. The grief ate him up. The more I grew to look like my mom, the more he shut down. He doesn't even talk to me now, still I take care of him."
She let the weight of her story settle between them, the night air growing heavier with every word. For a moment, it felt like the world had paused, the distant hum of cars on the highway fading into the background.
"I'll never get a wolf. I'll never get a mate," she said quietly, as if she were admitting it to herself too. "I thought I'd made my peace with that but the craving never leaves. It feels— it feels like a phantom limb… constantly taunting me with the feeling of sensation."
Jamee's voice broke the silence, soft and understanding. "Cass... I'm sorry. That's... a lot."
She shrugged, trying to brush it off. "It is what it is." But her voice trembled ever so slightly, betraying her.
They sat in silence for a few moments, the wind picking up again.
"I'm sorry for pouring all that on you," Cass said with a humorless, choked laugh. "You don't need to know my family drama."
Jamee shifted beside her, turning slightly so that he was facing her more directly. His gaze shifted momentarily, as if something in her story struck a chord, something buried deep. But then he looked her squarely in the eyes, his blue eyes as bright as opals.
He opened his mouth to speak and, for a moment he hesitated, as if unsure whether to push through the heaviness or lighten the mood. His fingers played with the hem of his shirt, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his face before he grinned softly. "Hey," he said gently, "it's your turn with the trauma-dumping stick."
Cass blinked, surprised by how easily he could make her feel lighter, even after she'd just spilled all her darkest memories. It was strange, how easy it was to talk to him compared to... well, to Uriel.
"I'm not gonna lie," she murmured, "at the party last night, there were other Aetherkin around. Vampires, fae, actual werewolves. I felt so... out of place. Like I didn't belong in that world anymore. Sometimes I wonder if it would've been different if I'd shifted. If I'd stayed part of the pack. Then again, I've never really felt at home living out of one. I don't make or keep friends because I constantly have to hold the secrets of my kind to myself. I can never get close enough to anyone because sure, people keep secrets, but mine are too big. Too bizarre."
Jamee nodded, his gaze far off for a moment. "Yeah. I get it. It's hard... when you're caught between two worlds."
They sat in quiet understanding for a while before Jamee let out a long sigh. "Cass, I wasn't gonna say anything, but... after everything you just told me, I feel like I need to be honest."
She turned to him, confusion etching her features when she saw the worry on his face.
Jamee ran his fingers through his hair again, pushing the long blonde tendrils out of his face as he groaned slightly. "The tracking spells... they didn't work. I tried at all the sites, and... nothing. The Vorvolak didn't leave enough of a trace for me to follow."
Cass's stomach dropped. "What do you mean, nothing?"
Jamee met her gaze, his expression serious. "I mean... I have no idea where it is. The trail's too weak."
Her stomach churned, a flash of cold dread running through her veins. The Vorvolak was still out there, hunting, and she— they— were no closer to stopping it. How many more lives would it take? Cass's chest tightened at the thought, the weight of responsibility crushing down on her shoulders.
"So... what now?" she asked, her voice quieter, almost hollow.
Jamee's voice was heavy as he answered. "The only way I'll be able to track it... is if it kills again."