2. Jake
JAKE
“Hi. The usual?” The barista beams up at me, holding a Sharpie in one hand.
“Do I come here that often?” I lean onto the counter at Fernhollow Coffee, knowing the human on the other side will swoon over my smile. “I’m kidding. Yes, the usual: one large coffee to go.
“And it’s Jake, right?”
I nod. She tucks a lock of her dark red hair behind her ear with a smile and writes my name on the cup.
As I’m pressing my card to the system to pay, she asks, “What brings you to Fernhollow, again?”
“You mean, besides all the wonderful sightseeing?”
Her cheeks darken as she laughs. “I love Fernhollow, but it’s a unique place. I’m curious, is all.”
“It’s classified.” I wink, then pocket my card in my wallet. “I agree, though. Fernhollow is a unique place.”
A line is forming behind me, so I say thanks and walk to the end of the bar to wait for my coffee.
The barista is nice, but she’s not my type.
Too smiley, too human. Plus, I don’t want a mate, or any romantic commitment, for that matter.
There are plenty of people I’m responsible for protecting as it is, like the entire North pack.
Besides, I’ve always preferred one-night stands.
My phone buzzes. I groan, knowing it’s going to be Silas, my Alpha, on the other end. He won’t be happy with the zero progress I’ve made. We’re best friends, and have been since we were young, but that doesn’t mean he’ll give me an easy time.
“Boss man.” I shove the phone between my shoulder and right ear, then grab my coffee from the counter after they call my name.
The smiley barista opens her mouth, but unfortunately this will be another failed attempt on her end to ask me out.
I dip my head, mouth, Duty calls, and turn away from the counter.
“I hate being called that,” Silas answers.
“Junie calls you that,” I say, weaving through chairs and people standing to reach an open green plush chair by the front window.
“You can’t be serious.”
“You can’t play favorites.”
“She’s my mate, Jake. Your Luna. Remember the last time I told her not to call me that?”
I take a sip of coffee and sit. Junie is number one on the tiny list of humans I like. “You were more of a dick than normal, so yeah, hard to forget.”
Silas snarls. “I won’t risk not having my favorite cookie again. Anyway, this isn’t important.”
“I beg to differ.”
“Give me your update before I regret calling.”
I’m tempted to remind him of our mandatory daily call today, but refrain because I don’t want him to regret choosing me for this job. “It’s been dead end after dead end.”
“No luck from the surrounding wolves?”
“Nope.” I smile at a passing customer, then take another drink of my coffee. I wish I asked for iced. The humidity on the east coast of Fernhollow is making me miss the dry weather from back home on the north-west coast of Starview.
“Wonderful. The Council will be thrilled.” Silas’ sarcasm bleeds through the phone. He might keep the entire north and its wolf packs in check, but the Council is responsible for looking after our realm. It’s how we’re able to maintain peace among various species.
What I don’t remind Silas of is how the Council failed to remove the trespassers, and humans are asking questions. They know paranormals exist, but we keep our daily lives separate.
“They need to practice patience. It won’t be solved overnight.
” My eyes pan over the cafe, wanting to be aware of anyone out of place.
I have always known Fernhollow as a hub for all species, humans and paranormals alike.
Instead of seeing my target, there are only a few families and business owners with computers.
I roll my eyes. “I have a lead in the east, though. Going to check that out today.”
“You sure you don’t want backup? You know we can—“
“No, I’m good.” I don’t tell him how I need to prove I can handle this alone. I need him to trust me.
“Okay, I don’t want to push you. I know it’s been a rough, uh, few years.”
“Yeah.” He’s trying to be helpful, I know, but ever since nearly losing pack members to rogue wolves when it was my responsibility to keep them safe, my mental health has suffered.
My hand tightens around the cup, releases, tightens, and releases.
Silas’ voice disappears into the background as my mind moves a million miles a minute, replaying the past. He’s talking to me about something, but I’m having a hard time listening.
It’s like a record skipping, and when I try to fix it, to figure out what the next line of the song is, it skips again.
It’s not until I covered my hand with a hot liquid that I realize I’m at the beginning of a panic attack.
Fuck.
“Jake, you good?”
“Yeah, um, spilled coffee. All good.” I stand to grab napkins, thankful my cup was almost empty. This job is to prove I can handle the pressure, and I know I can, but there are still rare moments where the past comes crashing like a fucking wrecking ball and I can’t do anything to stop it.
I have to let it hit me and remind me of everyone I can lose, only to pick up the pieces and remember, I can’t fix the past. I can only move forward and do everything in my power to protect those I love.
“What were you saying?” I ask as I walk toward the exit and out of the shop, figuring I might as well head to my destination. If anything, it’ll occupy my thoughts.
“There might be a spot on the Council, and if all goes well in Fernhollow, I want to refer you to the spot.”
A car beeps at me. I didn’t realize I stopped in the middle of the road and wave at them to say sorry.
“You want to refer me?”
“Do you not want the spot?” Silas asks, and I can picture his face contorting into confusion because I’ve talked to him many times about wanting a spot on the Council.
Don’t get me wrong; I love being the muscle of our pack. I’m used to dealing with danger and strategizing ways to get through it. But I’ve always wanted a position where I could make more of an impact.
“I want the spot.”
“Thought so. And Jake?”
“What?”
“Don’t fuck this up.”
I sigh. “Yes, Alpha.”
The line goes silent. I place the order for a car, forcing myself to continue working even though it’s the last thing I want to be doing.
The panic attack is still there, but it’s a mild one, thankfully.
I’ve learned over the past year to work while dealing with them, knowing the only other option is to rot on the couch.
At least this way, my brain can realize I’m not in danger. Not yet, at least.
I’m used to the possibility that there’s a threat nearby.
Back home in Starview, I worked with Silas’ younger brother, Kyrian, as a scout.
We’d walk the borders daily, checking our traps and ensuring our camp was secure.
When Silas chose me to investigate the uptick of demons in the east, I accepted the role of demon hunter without thinking about it.
If I had, I might have remembered how little I knew about them. Myself, nor my wolf, knows what the banned species smells like. How will I track them? Beats me. I’ve been relying on word of mouth, old textbooks, and wandering around until something abnormal pops out.
A beep sounds from my left. It’s my driver. I wave, then saunter to the vehicle. The old man driving greets me when I get in, but doesn’t push me to converse. I’m left to my own devices, staring at the trees and small buildings passing by as he drives us to the eastern forest.
Fifteen minutes later, I stand at a terribly marked trailhead. Besides this massive forest, which according to the map is a thirty-minute walk to the beach, there’s a small gas station with two pumps, a 24-7 diner, and a small strip of businesses in a two-story brick building.
“Alright, let’s do this.” It’s normal to give yourself a pep-talk, right? Who else is going to do it? The few people I interviewed prior to this trip gave me little to no information, so I’m walking into every situation blind.
What do demons look like? Smell like? Do they have tails like in cartoons?
Most details I received came from an outdated packet from the Council and books from the small library we have in Starview.
My mission for tomorrow is to spend time in the library, and hopefully find more information to figure out how to track demons.
This current lead I’m tracking I overheard last night in the hotel lobby.
Although, all they mentioned was a large swarm of crows being seen.
I wouldn’t have thought anything about it until the person mentioned to their friend how weird it was to see a murder that large this time of year.
After a quick Google search, old stories mentioned how crows were said to be omens.
Every other area of Fernhollow has led me to an impasse, so this lead shows I’m at least trying. If I’m trying, I’m bound to find something. Right?
Except, the more bugs I swat away from my face, the more I question if I’ll ever stumble upon a demon. I’m getting ready to turn around, make sure I can find enough signal to call a car back to the center of town, when a branch breaks in the distance.
It could be an animal, but I know I won’t be able to sleep later if I don’t explore the origin of the sound.