Page 34 of Werewolves and Witches AU

Whatever this Luna del Lupo is, he just told me it makes me immune to his magic. This douchebag can’t fold me away in the fabric of time, like he tried… like he did to Sarah, and however many others. Even if I knew what the artifact was, I’m not so stupid as to hand over my only defence against sharing that fate.

Withdrawing his hand, Time Guy abruptly pulls out the chair opposite me and stiffly takes a seat.

My eyes automatically dart to the door behind him. Could I make it now? Where would I go?

Ranger’s Scottish brogue fills my mind. “I’ll be here…”

The large suburban home on North East Kings Walk Drive, filled with the most unlikely family, is no longer just a safe house—it’s a lifeline. When I get out of here, that’s exactly where I’m going. I’ll run, if I have to.

I plant my feet squarely on the floor and shift my weight forward a little, then falter. The Luna del Lupo is important to the Dogs, and Time Guy clearly has information on it. If I make a break for it now, then wind up back at their Nest all red-faced and out of breath, they’re going to interrogate me all over again. The thought of having to look Ranger in the eyes and tell him I was sitting opposite someone who knows all about his trinket but didn’t take the opportunity to ask a single question, fills my legs with lead.

Time Guy crosses his legs at the knee and turns them sideways to the table. Very sophisticated.

“Vabbè,” he says on an exhale. “I wouldn’t hand over a valuable artifact just because I was asked to either, but maybe we can reach an accord?”

I raise my eyebrow. Reach an accord? What is he? A pirate?

He ignores me, and fidgets with the minutiae of his outfit as if he has no idea how to sit now that he’s no longer wearing a cloak. Those dark red-brown eyes flick my way, then he mirrors my position in his chair.

“There’s another reason you should give me the Luna del Lupo—aside from using it to trespass in my magic.” He holds my gaze in one of those loaded and meaningful ways people do when they’re trying to convey a very serious matter.

I ignore him, because if one lone witch armed with a sharpie and a croissant can get inside his magic, then I’m not rating this trinket very highly.

“My contacts have confirmed that the Romulan Wolves are also searching for it. You’ve heard of them, sì?” He phrases it like a question, but doesn’t wait for my answer. “General Romulus has let slip his Dogs of War, and you—piccolo mago—do not wish to be found with their bone.”

The visual aspect of that sentence filters through my synapses in a way that I don’t think Time Guy intended. I can’t say I find the image of Ranger’s teeth sinking possessively into my flesh, like a dog would a bone, menacing. At all.

“This issue is between the Office of Time and the General.” He sneers that last word, and I’m… oddly offended.

The werewolves have been nothing but kind and courteous. They took me in—quite literally off the street—charged my phone, and fed me a traditional Scottish breakfast.

“So, you’re saying that witches don’t need to be involved?”

Time Guy nods.

I nod too. “Right. Except this Luna del Lupo must have been enchanted by a witch in the first instance, and another currently possesses it, so it seems to me like we’re already involved.”

I lean forward then and take a long, satisfying slurp of my drink through the straw. The tendon in his neck twitches. Annoyance, probably. But despite that small victory in asserting myself, I still don’t have any intel, not really.

Relinquishing the straw from between my teeth, I push a little harder. “Surely you’re familiar enough with witches, being from the Office of Time and all, to know that we have rights over our spells, charms, and amulets. If you want me to relinquish those rights, then you’re going to need to give me more than ‘the General wants it.’”

Capitalising on my newfound bravado, I lean back in my chair and cross my legs at the ankles, but it’s not at all a comfy position in these plastic bucket-style seats.

I glance around the small coffee shop then and wonder why this one doesn’t have the nice squishy velvet chairs like the location I usually visit does. The brick-effect wallpaper is the same, as are the Edison-style lightbulbs that weave around the AC ducts, it’s just these cheap chairs that are different.

I’d been meaning to go to my usual branch, but because I came in from the other side of town, this one saved me an extra twenty minute walk. Being closer to the business district, I’d expected it to be more upmarket, but it seems the manager here is prioritising function over comfort and is doing their customers dirty.

“Sì, a witch did originally divine the Luna del Lupo.” Time Guy’s admission jolts through me, and I shake my head to clear away all thoughts about the ambient aesthetic of coffee shops. Focus.

He sits up then, as if he suddenly remembered something important, and braces his elbows on the table in support of his mental effort. “She made it for General Romulus himself, to protect him. Then he betrayed her, and she revoked it. A trait the General displays to this day.”

Once again, at the mention of the leader of the werewolves, the corner of his lip pulls up into an ugly snarl, and his eyes lighten to more of a blood-red colour.

Oh, he hates General Romulus alright. Whatever the treachery, it’s cut deeply. Now, both he and the General are racing each other to uncover the whereabouts of a trinket that guards against being folded away in time, and no one seems to know why…

I know why.

My eyes snap to his demonic-looking ones. Then to the door over his shoulder.