Page 42 of Werewolves and Witches AU

I stiffen as pieces of this puzzle start to fall in place.

When I mentioned the Office of Time to the Admiral earlier, that connection was minimised and the conversation topic changed. But Milo was sent here because he mentioned them on the phone to the Witches Council.

The General’s Office sent us here to locate the Luna del Lupo. What they didn’t tell us was why they wanted it. Now we know. But who is it Romulus plans on keeping safe with it? This is a man who will fold his own brother away in the fabric of time.

Until I understand exactly how the Luna del Lupo will protect every Romulan wolf, not just the General, from the effects of this magic—and what that means for Milo—he’s staying right where he is. My gaze drifts to the ceiling above my head, and my wolf strains to monitor the rhythmic beating of his heart while he sleeps.

I rub the heel of my palm over my left pec as if I can massage out this threat to my pack.

“Ranger?” Delilah asks, and my gaze drifts his way. He’s our strategist; if anyone’s got an approach on this, it’s him.

“Can you provide a visual description of our new Target?”

“Aye,” I confirm. “I can build you an A to H.”

Retrieving a pack of wipes from the side pocket of his backpack, Delilah wraps the pen lid I spat into my palm neatly inside one, gives me another, then turns his laptop my way with the screen already prepped for me to enter our Target’s details.

While I type, Thriller pipes up from his cosy chair in the corner of the room. “So, they’re what, exactly? These heads of departments?”

Guardian explains, folding his arms across his chest. “They were mortals, ordinary humans, voted into position and granted immortality and the necessary powers by Time in order to do their jobs.”

“Not vampires, then? Just… really old humans.”

Tuesday cracks out laughing. “What the fuck is wrong with your brain? Of course they’re not vampires—one of them just walked into a coffee shop in the middle of the afternoon.”

Thriller’s wolf’s eyes flash a brighter shade of green, and his once-steepled fingers form fists as he cracks the knuckles.

“What’re ye getting at, Thriller?” I ask, diverting that fight. Tuesday’s a sore loser.

“That if they’re not vampires, we can take their pictures. Do this old-school.” He shrugs with one shoulder, and I pause what I’m doing.

“Go to the Office of Time, in Rome, and take their pictures?” I repeat it out loud in case I’m missing a step.

“Don’t see how else we’re going to do it. You know what he looks like, but we don’t, and we can’t bring him down without an ID. If they’re old old, living off-grid in a digital age, then we go knock on their doors—all friendly like—and take their pictures. Could have it done in a day.”

My gaze flicks between each of my men. It’s a solid approach. Delilah nods, sealing the mission objective. “Except, our Target is here, not in Rome.”

“How many Dogs of War are needed to take a picture?” he asks, a cocky grin firmly in place.

“Ye’d have to fly ghost,” I add, knowing that the General’s Office can’t get wind of this. “No one can know ye left the Nest. And yer not going alone.”

Guardian steps forward. “I can get us into the building without raising questions.”

“I can arrange the ghost flight to my family’s private airfield outside Rome,” Bear contributes.

“Did I show you what I’ve been working on?” asks Tuesday. He delves into a pocket and brings out a pair of sunglasses. “These little beauties aren’t just fashionable. They’ve got inbuilt four-K mini action cams. Like a Go-Pro on crack, but in your sunnies.”

Delilah shuts his laptop with an audible click, not paying any mind to my fingers that only just escaped being flattened by his passive aggression. “And if you’re all going to Europe, then I guess I will be too, regardless of my opinions on the driving situation over there, because someone needs to coordinate and track all your intel.”

“Aye, Operation Tempo is going to need a strategist.” Pride fills me and my wolf; I couldn’t ask for better soldiers. No matter that just an hour ago they suspected Milo had lied to them and endangered millions of lives, they listened with open minds and are now prepared to operate behind enemy lines.

My face falls. “I can’t risk taking the package out of the Nest. Whatever this trinket is, however it works, someone from the Office of Time recognised that Milo was in possession of it when even he himself didn’t know.”

I look to Guardian, conveying without words that I need him to look after my unit as if it were his own.

His eyes swirl with a deep amaranthine hue, and then he nods. “It would be my honour to lead your men on this mission, Ranger.”

Settled, but not at ease, my gaze flicks upward to the ceiling once more.