Page 32 of Werewolves and Witches AU

Milo follows me out, dumps his fistful of cutlery in the sink, and then we each follow the other Dogs to the front door.

As they leave, I turn to Milo. It’s a struggle not to put my hand on his shoulder again, like I did earlier—like I do with everyone in my pack. I push my hands deep into my pockets.

“So, um, I’ll be here… working. If ye get done and want to come back.” I bite my tongue. I almost said home.

Milo nods, but shuffles awkwardly from foot to foot in the open doorway.

“I guess a walk would be good, help digest all that food. Which…” He licks his lips, and I find my gaze drawn to the movement. “Was really nice, thank you.”

“Nae bother, Pup.” I check my watch for something to do that isn’t staring at him like I’ve never seen other humans before. 13:52. “Remember…”

“Don’t tell anyone.” We finish in unison.

“Or I become a hostage for real.” Milo’s smile is soft; he needs to leave.

“See ye later, Pup.” I step closer, leaning with my arm up the door jamb.

He backs off the porch. “Yeah, later.”

My wolf and I linger, watching Milo as he treks down the path and turns right in the direction of downtown. Inhaling, I fill my lungs with the refreshing fragrance of mint and apples.

Slowly, I count down from thirty.

14

The Package Is A Distraction

Rowan

Only when I’m sure Milo’s far enough ahead that he won’t notice me tailing him do I shut the house door and follow behind. My wolf easily tracks his scent through our quiet neighbourhood and into the busier ones closer to downtown.

When I next get eyes on him, Milo’s stepping through the door of a franchise coffee shop. The map on my phone informs me that we’re on the northern edge of the business hub, which explains why Milo’s the only customer, and why the sandwich shop next door has already flipped their sign to closed for the day.

A handful of trees separate the small parking lot from the main road, and I find a shaded spot underneath one that gives an unobstructed view through the plate-glass window opposite. Pushing in just one earphone, I use my other ear to keep tabs on Milo as he places his coffee order. What on earth is an iced tuxedo?

While I wait for my call to the General’s Office to be patched through, Milo tells the barista his sob story. This is why we operate a catch-and-release system on strays. They reveal more when they’re not under duress. Stiffening in readiness, I listen to him spare her no detail on how his apartment door was aggressively kicked in, and how everything was trashed. Then he embellishes with a natural flair when he tells her how the police arrived and took over his room.

I sag against the tree trunk in relief; he kept his word.

Brandishing his phone, he waves it at the barista, and I don’t hear what he says next because the sound of ice cubes and coffee in a blender drowns him out.

A moment later, she nods and disappears through the chain curtain to the kitchen at the back, then reappears with a phone charger cable. Milo’s smile is wide and genuine. I find myself matching it. Clearly the boost Bear gave his battery by cloning his phone wasn’t enough.

The barista asks if he wants a “double-pump—one each of white and dark chocolate,” to help with the shock, free of charge. Milo nods solemnly, and I chuckle at his hustle. The Pup’s good.

Right as he collects his drink and takes a seat conveniently in front of the large window, my call connects.

“Ranger,” greets Admiral Guerrieri.

“I want my usual contact.”

“And the General wants the circle small, so you have me.”

Clenching my back teeth is preferable to telling my superior to fuck off. “Then I need better intel. The meeting ye flew us out here for was a bust, and then ye marked a Package for special delivery, but none of us were home to sign for it. We found it sitting on the porch.”

“The Package was redirected to you because at the same time as you were in your meeting, a former employee reported a break-in and assault. There’s no such thing as a coincidence, Ranger. You know that.”

“Yer confusing me with Delilah. I know no such thing.” I scrub my blunt fingernails through my short beard, as Milo noisily slurps his beverage through a straw. “The Package is a distraction.”