Calder
The wrench I’d been leaning on suddenly snapped to the side, smashing my finger between it and the engine. “Motherfucker!” I cried, pulling my hand away and shaking it like I’d been bitten by a snake.
A bruise had already started to form under my fingernail from where I’d struck it.
However, the moment I glanced down at it, the pain started to fade.
I watched as the bruise grew, stopped, then shrank until there was nothing left.
The only thing that remained was the small scuff on my nail. Thank the gods for werewolf healing.
I’d spent the majority of the morning tinkering on my jeep, trying to get my mind off of the letter I’d received from the Elder Council.
But no matter how much I tried to focus, it kept creeping back in.
Just the thought of a rogue wolf in the area who was potentially killing people…
that put all of us in danger. The supernatural world had successfully remained a secret for centuries and this wolf, whoever they were, was risking the exposure of us all.
Humans didn’t react well to being killed by monsters, history taught us that well.
The thought of inciting another age of werewolf hunters sent a shiver down my spine.
The last thing I wanted to do was take a silver bullet to the chest just for existing or watch my pack be hunted down.
With a defeated sigh, I dropped the wrench on the tool chest. I couldn’t concentrate on what I was doing.
And despite the quick healing, it still hurt like a bitch when I tried to smash my fingers.
Time to go to something else. Good thing I had a whole fuck ton of clerical work that needed to be done.
“Coffee,” I said to myself, tossing the rag onto the engine block. “Coffee and a pastry.”
Thankfully there was a coffee shop only a few blocks from the house.
I walked down there most weekends to work on paperwork for the garage.
Someone had to do the accounting and after the housing crash, we were doing barely enough business to stay afloat.
There was no extra cash for an accountant or a secretary, so I had to wear multiple hats.
It was almost comical actually. Hollywood had yet to make a blockbuster about an accountant werewolf.
Not that it would be very interesting. I was bored to death and I was living it.
I grabbed my laptop and the stack of invoices from the kitchen counter, shoving them into my worn messenger bag.
The sun was high overhead, promising a warm fall day in our little coastal town.
The kind of day that made tourists flock to the marina and locals throw open their windows.
For me, it just meant I'd be sweating through my t-shirt by the time I reached Drip Tease.
The bell above the door jingled as I stepped inside, the rich aroma of coffee beans wrapping around me like a comfortable blanket. Marissa, the owner, looked up from behind the counter and smiled.
"Calder! The usual?"
"You know it," I replied, claiming my regular spot by the window. The table was worn from years of laptops and coffee mugs, and I'd carved my initials underneath it during a particularly boring afternoon three years ago even though I was plenty old enough to know better.
The bell jingled again as I was setting up my workspace.
I didn't bother looking up, too focused on organizing the mess of papers before me. Besides, the shop was always busy on the weekends with college students coming and going. I didn’t have time to worry about them, not with two weeks worth of paperwork to get through.
"Here you go," Marissa said a moment later, sliding my usual—black coffee and a blueberry scone—across the table. She stood there for a moment, waiting for me to look up.
“Thanks Marissa,” I said, pulling my attention away from my laptop for just a moment. “I definitely needed…”
I paused, looking past her right elbow toward a man standing at the counter.
He was a bit on the thin side, his short blond hair mussed on one side like he’d slept on it and didn’t bother to comb it.
He was wearing a buckskin colored bomber jacket with a sherpa lining.
However, it was his smile and the bright green of his eyes that caught my attention as he glanced my way.
I’d never seen him before, not that I would in a town the size of Portland.
But something about him caught my attention, I just couldn’t put my finger on why.
Marissa turned back, checking what I was staring at. "Oh, he’s new in town. Just moved here a few days ago and he’s already been here five times. Cute, right?"
I grunted noncommittally. Men weren’t my thing and one look at the guy told me he was human. Another red flag.
“Do you know him?” she asked.
“What?” I said, finally looking up. “No, no. I just… I thought I recognized him for a moment.” I took a beat, checking to make sure she bought my lie. When it looked like she did, I continued, “It’s the jacket I think. I have a friend with the same one.”
Marissa gave me a knowing smile. "Well, if you want an introduction—"
"I don't," I said, perhaps too quickly. "I'm buried in work today. Thanks for bringing my coffee over though."
She shrugged, nodded, and walked back to the counter, leaving me with my coffee and my thoughts.
I tried to focus on the invoices, but my eyes kept drifting to the stranger.
There was something about him that tugged at my senses.
Not attraction—though objectively, he wasn't hard to look at—but something else, something that made my wolf stir.
I inhaled deeply, trying to catch his scent over the coffee and pastries. Nothing unusual—just soap, cologne, and human. Completely normal. So why was my wolf so interested?
The stranger collected his order and, to my dismay, headed toward the only empty table left—the one directly across from mine. As he settled in, he pulled out a worn leather notebook and began writing, his movements quick and precise.
I forced myself to look down at my laptop, but the numbers blurred together.
The Elder Council's letter kept intruding on my thoughts. A rogue wolf killing humans could expose my pack and everyone else in the world like me. As their Alpha, I couldn’t bear to see them get hurt.
It was my job to protect them. I’d already decided to help the Elder Council in any way I could, but I had no leads, no information, and honestly, no free time to dedicate to something like that.
Protecting my pack was important, but so was keeping a roof over my head and theirs by providing them jobs at the garage.
My eyes drifted back to the stranger. He was scribbling furiously now, occasionally glancing up and around the café as if studying the patrons. When his gaze met mine, I quickly looked away, pretending to be absorbed in my work.
"Sorry about the noise," he said suddenly, his voice carrying across the small space between our tables.
I looked up, surprised. His voice was deeper than I expected, with a slight accent I couldn't place. "What noise?"
He held up a mechanical pencil. "My writing. I tend to press too hard when I'm working. The scratching can be annoying."
"I didn't even notice," I lied. My enhanced hearing had picked up every scratch, along with his steady heartbeat and the soft rhythm of his breathing.
"I'm Ethan," he offered with a smile that revealed a small dimple in his left cheek. "Ethan Murphy."
"Calder," I replied, not volunteering my last name.
Something about this guy had my instincts on high alert, though I couldn't pinpoint why.
My wolf was practically pacing beneath my skin.
I felt this strange urge to get closer to him, to touch him, like if I did I would finally understand why he had me so riled up.
"Nice to meet you, Calder." He gestured at my laptop. "Working on a Saturday? Must be important."
I shrugged, not wanting to engage but finding myself responding anyway. "Just bookkeeping for my garage. The numbers won't balance themselves."
"You own a garage?" Ethan's eyes lit up with interest. "That's impressive."
"Family business," I said, trying to keep my answers short. The less I talked to him, the better. Yet I couldn't help noticing how his scent shifted subtly—a hint of excitement beneath the cologne. My wolf was still unsettled, pacing restlessly beneath my skin.
"I just moved here," Ethan continued, seemingly undeterred by my curtness. "I'm a journalist with the Portland Gazette. Started Monday."
My shoulders tensed involuntarily. A journalist was the last thing we needed with a potential rogue wolf situation. Journalists asked questions, dug into stories, uncovered secrets. Another red flag.
"Welcome to Portland," I managed, my voice sounding strained even to my own ears.
Ethan tilted his head slightly, studying me with those startling green eyes. "Thanks. It seems like a great city so far. I'm still trying to get my bearings though."
I nodded, hoping that would end the conversation. But he leaned forward slightly, his scent wafting toward me – clean soap, a hint of aftershave, and something else I couldn't quite place. Something that made my wolf stir.
"Actually," he said, tapping his pencil against his notebook, "I’m working on a piece for the crime section. Anything interesting happened in your neck of the woods recently? Having your own garage, you must talk to a lot of people. And I’m so new here, I’m not sure where to look to get a good story. ”
My jaw clenched. "We're not that interesting. Just fixing cars. There’s no crimes around us that I know of."
He let out a long sigh. “Yeah. It’s pretty quiet in this town as far as crime goes. I guess I should be thankful. Better than getting mugged in broad daylight, you know?”
“Right,” I said, giving him a half-hearted chuckle.
“I guess I’ll have to write about the animal attacks north of town. It’s not really a crime if it’s a mountain lion, but it’s something I guess.”
“Animal attacks?” I asked, my interest piqued. It was unusual for things like that to happen. “Like pets and stuff?”
“Cattle,” Ethan replied. “A bunch of them got torn to pieces. No one seems to know why.”
My heart skipped a beat. A mountain lion wouldn’t tear a cow apart, especially not several of them.
It had to be something else. My mind went to the rogue wolf immediately, but why would they do that?
A werewolf had no reason to attack cows.
I was just being paranoid. I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could get a word out, Ethan’s phone vibrated on the desk. He flipped it open.
“Ethan Murphy speaking,” he said, listening intently.
He nodded a few times, giving short replies to the other person on the phone.
A man from what my wolf ears could pick up.
Halfway through the call, he began jotting something down.
“Alright. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.
” He flipped the phone shut and looked up at me, flashing me a bright smile. “Well, duty calls.”
I breathed a sigh of relief as he gathered up his things. However, instead of heading toward the door, he walked over to me. I glanced up, the spicy sweetness of his cologne enveloping me and making me sway on the spot.
“This… might be a long shot,” he said, his cheeks turning pink. “But here.” He held out a folded napkin.
I don’t know what possessed me to take it, but I reached up without thought, our fingertips brushing as I took the napkin.
All at once fireworks exploded across my body.
My brain lit up and for a moment, the whole world seemed to slow to a stop around us.
The wolf inside me howled and it took everything I had not to shift right there in the middle of the cafe.
“Well,” he said with a sigh. “See you later, Calder.”
With that he turned and headed out the door of the cafe, my name still ringing in my ears, the sound of it so sweet from his lips. I glanced down at the napkin, unfolding it with my thumb as my heart pounded in my chest.
Call me sometime. -Ethan
My heart continued to pound as I stared at his phone number scrawled on the napkin. There were a million thoughts running through my head, most of which I didn’t understand. But there was one word, louder than all the rest, repeating over and over again, filling me with adrenaline.
Mate.