Page 95 of Werewolves and Witches AU

But there’s also the potent aroma of fresh sweat and… fear that punches through from underneath. My wolf growls. I search the intersection again, noting the time on the ornate two-faced clock that hangs from the corner of the bank… 00:37.

A two-faced clock. I smile. Found you, Magpie.

The imposing column-like bank wouldn’t be out of place in Edinburgh, and I focus my wolf’s eyes on the security truck parked outside, then on the apparently empty lobby encased behind a full-glass window that stretches two floors high. There’s not a security team in the world that would leave the lobby of a bank exposed like that… unless they were already dealing with an intruder.

Retracting my wolf form, I stride across the road and retrieve the universal tech key that Tuesday invented from one of the pockets in my combat trousers. Even banks use standardised security software, and between our military-grade access, Delilah’s mind for numbers, and Tuesday’s penchant for tinkering, there isn’t a system we can’t usually bypass.

The automatic doors slide open with a whoosh, and as if the noise summoned him, a Jackal Security team member pops his head up from where he’d been hunched closer to the monitors arranged within the front desk. He looks frazzled.

I clap my hands once, and stride toward him. “Approximately twenty minutes ago, the silent alarm on this bank’s location was triggered. Unauthorised personnel have gained entry to this unit, and ye failed to follow protocol and notify the chain of command immediately. I’ll need yer name and badge number. But first, lock down this building.”

The man scrambles to comply. Flustered, he knocks over a bottle of water, and curses when it floods the keyboard. Not the team leader, then. I scan the various rooms on this floor, but they’re all open-facing customer check points. My gaze lands on the heavy fire doors that lead to the stairwell.

“What do you know?” I command, backing it with my alpha tone.

“The kid said he was sent for work experience,” the guy fumbles. “Matt was just gonna park him here for the night, but he asked to use the restroom. That’s how he gave us the slip. He was really convincing.”

Magpie’s a fucking natural, and pride at his ability to get past a whole team of bank security guards puffs up my chest.

I nod. “This kid… white-blond hair? Young? Carrying a bag?”

“I don’t know about his hair, he had a ball cap that covered it and looked like he was wearing his dad’s jacket.”

My brow lowers at the insinuation that I’m old enough to be my mate’s father. “Call yer team and withdraw them from the top floors. Concentrate yer search on floors one to eight. Sweep down. I’ll take floors nine to twelve.”

He stares at me, mouth hanging open.

“Do it now.”

Patting his utility belt, he searches for his two-way.

“And for fuck’s sake, fasten yer top button, yer on duty.”

I don’t wait to make sure he does as I’ve asked; there’s no time. At almost a jog, I cross the marble floor, push through the doors to the stairwell, and charge headlong up the concrete staircase.

The higher I climb, the stronger the scent of spiced apples becomes, until I burst out onto the roof. It has to be the roof because of how clearly his scent was in the air. The wind catches the door. I tighten my hold on the handle to stop it blowing back.

Milo was here, there are footprints in the pea gravel. Two sets.

Janus’s strange scent is here also. I recognise it from when my wolf bit him. The growl that claws up my throat brings my wolf with it.

I trace one set of steps over to the wooden hutch that surrounds the generator, but there’s no apple fragrance here. Where are you, Pup?

The unmistakable sound of two gunshots firing in rapid succession thunders through the building’s fabric and rends my soul. Whirling on my heel, I race to the centre of the roof space.

Heart pumping, claws twitching, I try to think through my rising panic. Those gunshots were muffled—inside. But Milo is outside.

The buzzing alert of an incoming call vibrates my pocket. The caller ID displays Magpie’s codename, and I answer instantly.

“Fucksparagus,” he whisper-sobs.

My heart lurches, but my wolf can hear him through my other ear. “Fuck am I glad to hear yer voice.”

“I’m so sorry, Ranger,” he sniffs. “I fucked up.”

“Aye, Pup. Ye did,” I tell him, but it’s to get him talking.

I hold the phone away from me so my wolf can track the sound of his voice.