Page 1 of Werewolves and Witches AU

Prologue

Milo

Please don’t let him be dead.

I don’t stop praying as I run down the stairs.

Adrenaline pumping, I cross the street without looking.

Hands shaking, I call the number I swore I’d never dial—not even if the sky was falling.

“Hi. Erm, this is Milo. Tobitt. I… I think I just killed a man.”

Slowing from a run to more of a jog, I look back over my shoulder.

Please don’t let him be dead.

“He… erm, he accused me of some stuff. Magic stuff. And I apologised for that, but then he threatened me. Tried to grab me—did grab me—so then I pushed him, or I didn’t… I don’t remember. I was running away, and then he fell. He hit his head pretty hard. He’s still there, in my apartment. I think…”

Almost at the corner of the street, I risk another look back toward my building.

Please don’t let him be dead.

There’s a sudden clicking sound and some other distortion on the line, as if I’m being passed through a digital network to somewhere, and tears of relief build behind my lashes. On the next street over now, still jogging, I look behind me again. But there’s no angry man in a purple cloak.

Please don’t let him be dead.

“Hello, Milo? This is the General’s Office. I’m going to give you an address for someone who can help you. Head to eight-seven-three-nine-oh North East Kings Walk Drive and tell whoever answers the door ‘neeps and tatties.’”

1

What Do You Call...?

Milo

The Previous Morning

I’m only a little bit out of breath—and five minutes late—when Ethel’s sprawling two-storey retirement village comes into view. Slowing to a walk, I comb my fingers through the longer strands of my grown-out mullet and tuck my T-shirt into my acid-wash jeans.

These were Ethel’s before they were mine; she cleared out so much stuff when she downsized after Great Aunt Anabelle passed. I’d have loved to take it all, keep it in the family, but my little studio-style room couldn’t house her furniture any more than her retirement apartment can, so all I accepted was a bag full of vintage clothes. It’s also where my leather jacket with metal-studded lapels comes from.

Running my fingertips over them, lost in thought, I trip up the curb. Styling it out, I swagger across the paved yard with its topiary and large planters. Luckily, a quick glance through the full-glass entrance porch of Brightview Court shows it to be empty inside. Phew.

The doors open with a whoosh, and I’m greeted by the relaxing piano music that plays at a low volume from speakers hidden behind pot plants.

“Morning, Lucy,” I call when I notice her familiar henna-dyed red hair poking out from behind the computer monitor.

Leaning sideways, her bright smile lights up her face. “Milo!” She flicks her head side to side as if she were a model. “Notice anything?”

Drifting closer, I indulge her. “Hmmm.” I place my finger over my lips and rest my chin on my hand as if deep in thought. “Well, you look beautifully fresh today, so I’m going to guess that you made that honey and raw milk mask you were telling me about.”

“You are such a charmer, Mr Tobitt. I see where Ethel gets it from. But, no! I finally used the shampoo and conditioner set you gave me—it’s amazing.” She smoothes her hand over her hair and squeezes it. “So soft, and to think that I’m no longer contributing to the big cosmetic companies and their plastics pollution of the planet. Gosh, Milo. I’ve been so excited to show you.”

“Ah, this is great.” I beam back. “I didn’t bring my work stuff with me today.” I pat my back pockets and pull out my phone. “I only gave you the sample size, so how about I put in an order for a full-size bottle of each, and I’ll bring it with me next week?”

Lucy nods emphatically. “Breakfast with Miss Ethel today, is it?”

I smile in answer, then my face drops, and I lower my phone. “Ah, shit—I mean, shoot.”