Harlow grunted in agreement and shut his laptop.
Foxx eyed the run-down three-story house from his crouched position in the bush next to Harlow. He couldn’t say he ever thought to find himself hiding out in a bush, creepily watching a house, but such was life. It was much like this neighborhood. At one point, it must have been quite grand. But, like with all things, you could be on top of the world one minute, and then in a rubbish heap the next.
They’d been staking out the house for the last few hours. And Foxx was starting to wonder if he’d have to change into his sunsuit, or if the fake hunters they were waiting for were going to show up before the sun rose again.
“Do you think they’ll show up tonight?” Foxx whispered to Harlow.
“Could be tonight, could be tomorrow. It could be next week. We don’t know. So all we can do is sit here and wait.”
Foxx grimaced, wrapping his arms around his knees and scrunching down more. “Next week?”
Harlow shrugged. “It’s a crap shoot. Nothing works on our time, and this job is a lot of waiting.”
He sighed—Foxx hated waiting for shit. Glaring at the house, he willed something to happen. The neighborhood was rather quiet. Most of the houses nearby were not only run down but abandoned. So, he couldn’t even be nosy and listen in on the people around…because there were no people.
Fifteen more minutes went by when they heard the sound of crunching tires. Foxx perked up and excitedly whispered, “Someone’s coming!”
Harlow hushed him as they looked off towards the street. Foxx waited with bated breath as a large white van meandered slowly down the road towards them. He almost squealed when it pulled into the driveway of the house they were currently staking out. He was definitely trembling where he squatted.
Harlow eyed him with a raised eyebrow. Foxx eyed him back and mouthed ‘what’ at him. The human just shook his head and peered back at the van.
Was it so wrong that he was excited?
The van doors opened, and as people jumped out, Foxx quickly counted the heartbeats. “There’s nine, but one is not human,” he whispered.
Harlow let out a soft snort. “Probably the one they are dragging along.”
He took a deep breath. The individual's body spray reached his nose. But if he pushed past the body spray, he caught a musk that was similar to a wolf, mixed with the crisp smell of a cool breeze at night. “Yep, werewolf. What do we do with the two extra humans?”
The group quickly disappeared inside with their captive, dragging the poor, very limp werewolf the whole way.
“Capture them. They probably were the smart ones who avoided any cameras. Or they are in charge and never do any of the dirty work. Let’s go,” Harlow said. Standing up, the man let out a soft grunt. “Boss will be pissed if we let them kill another paranormal right in front of us.”
Foxx stood, head tilting. “So, no strategy, just…burst in?”
“Yep!” Harlow stormed forward.
After hesitating a moment, he shook his head and quickly followed, reaching Harlow just as the man slammed his foot into the door.
Foxx’s eyes widened, and his stomach heated just a bit as the door burst inward, the lock breaking at the force of the human’s kick.Oh…please don’t get hard, he told himself. Now was not the time! Maybe this career choice was a bad one.
They entered the dilapidated structure in a somewhat awkward fashion, Harlow stomping forward with Foxx just stepping in lightly behind him. Inside they were greeted with eight sets of eyes staring at them in shock. They were in some sort of foyer or entrance area, with moldy carpets and all sorts of dirty, broken furniture, and a set of stairs leading up to the right. The inside looked about as good as the outside, peeling white walls and all.
The eight humans were standing in a group. In the center was the werewolf being held before the two unknown men. The ones holding the werewolf…he was pretty sure the man on the left was Daren Stilts, and the one on the right was Mark Brodi. The rest were standing around them.
“This place could use a good scrubbing.” The words slipped out before Foxx could stop them.
Harlow glanced back at him, looking truly baffled.
He shrugged. “Well, it could!”
“Umm…” one of the humans croaked. This one was…Joe Slater? Yes, it was him. He was a thirty-six-year-old banker. This seemed to be an odd choice of hobby for him.
One of the unknown humans pushed through the group to stand in front. Now that Foxx was really looking, he realized the two unknowns were at least twenty or thirty years older than the rest. “I think you have the wrong house? We have no qualms with you.”
Foxx stepped up beside Harlow and scoffed loudly. “Hardly. You may have no qualms with him, but you’d no doubt prefer me headless.” He smiled, flashing his fang. The old man’s face twisted in disgust, and was that…rage? Foxx laughed. “Oh yes, you don’t like me one bit, do you, human?”
“Get them!” the man growled.
