Normally the sound of car tires on good asphalt was relaxing, harkening back to some of the earliest sounds one could hear in the womb. Today, though, it was the underpinning to a life or death situation and Marco was ill just from the stress of it all. He was in an unfamiliar truck with an unfamiliar werewolf, heading down Main Street, desperately trying to get to the History Museum. Marco sat in the large truck's back seat, an arm around Fletcher's shoulders. Fletcher, if anything, looked annoyed by everything. Udo sat in the front passenger seat, running his fingers nervously back and forth on the dashboard, and Yom was perched in the bed of the truck, trying to keep an eye on Fletcher through the glass.

"We're almost there, don't worry, Ren will know just what to do." The driver said, peeking over his shoulder for a moment. Like Yom, he was a junior at the school. He was on the football team and had pretty built arms he almost always kept exposed with tank tops or going shirtless. Just above his short kept beard, the sides of his head were shaved clean, but his frizzy, wavy auburn hair was worked into a very short ponytail.

Marco said nothing, looking at the driver. He still felt completely ashamed. In the heat of the moment he'd bit Fletcher. One of us, one of them, or not at all. It was the warning he'd heard a thousand times since coming to Echo Creek. It was supposed to be the warning that kept werewolves in check. Statistically speaking, there weren't a lot of werewolves turned each year. Most were born wolves, but that... wasn't going well for those around Marco.

"I'm fine..." Fletcher sighed, "I wish you guys weren't making such a big fuss about this. If I was going to die, I would have already." Fletcher said.

"Don't talk like that... We just want to know you'll be alright." Udo said.

"This should have been a romantic moment." Fletcher said, still irritated. Marco still said nothing, sinking lower in his seat.

"Alright my dudes, it looks like we're here." The driver said, his truck slowing as it pulled onto the side road and approached the museum with its burgundy wood panel walls and ornate engravings.

The big truck sputtered to a stop and the doors opened quickly. Udo moved around to open the door on Fletcher's side. Fletcher slipped out and dropped to the ground, huffing a bit as Marco came out right behind him. Yom jumped over the side, rising back up to his full height, looking over to the football player.

"Thanks Duncan." Yom said, giving the driver a pat on the back.

"Not a problem man, no rush or anything. Just let me know." the driver replied. Up ahead the door eased open and Ren emerged. She had skipped on her usual dress and instead wore sensible black slacks and a light red top with a black blouse underneath. Her hair was down, looking silky and smooth. It was a less harsh appearance than she normally cultivated.

"Right this way, I've prepared everything." Ren said. Marco moved to help support Fletcher but he pulled away.

"I'm not an invalid. I feel fine." he snapped back. Marco stood where he was as Fletcher walked up the path to enter the building. Udo came up behind Marco and reached out to touch his shoulder.

"He's just... dealing with it in his own way." Udo said softly.

"I know, but he shouldn't have to be dealing with it at all." Marco muttered, the first thing he'd said since they left campus. He resumed his walk up the path, his shoulders still slumped. Every part of it felt like a failure. His desire to be the campus Alpha had led to him bedding other wolves, and somehow their influence had gotten him to be rowdier and more invested in the pursuit of adult activities than he had ever been before in his life. And what did he do? He went right to Fletcher and bit him. Marco thought his shame would know no worse sin, but faced with the fact that his boyfriend could die at any second, he realized that they had no good transportation off of campus.

The first thought was to go to the hospital, it was just a few blocks from campus, but Yom had put a stop to that. What could a hospital do with a freshly turned wolf other than expose them? Fletcher had made it past the half hour mark, meaning his odds of survival were higher - but that still left two outcomes. One of us? One of them? Marco still didn't like the odds.

"Just over here, please sit." Ren said, gesturing to a low, wide dark red leather bench. Fletcher settled down and let out a long sigh.

"I'm fine." he repeated, though his head tilted slightly and he froze. Standing in a room on the other side of an adjoining hall was a familiar face - a face Fletcher had seen online and off countless times in his Freshman year, Silas. Fletcher's perturbed demeanor began to fizzle. Silas was a direct reminder of what had happened the previous year, the choices he had made. And he was direct evidence of someone who had been bitten and woken up as a Direwolf.

"When one is bitten, it is in that moment that the wolf is born." Ren said, "The wolf is born of the man, of the choices, of the actions, of the secrets and the desires. It is a curse that takes the shape of the cursed." Ren explained as she pulled out a tray that had been prepared. A mortar and pistil sat off to one side, but small dabs of various liquids had been spread out across the wood. Some looked like molten metals; others were muddier, like bits of dirt and clay.

Ren rested the tray next to Fletcher and selected one of the enamel painted sticks she normally used in her hair. With a deft hand, she collected some of the golden liquid on it and brought the tip to Fletcher's forehead. She made a perfect ring with four chevrons extending from it, the Keeper symbol of the moon at sunrise. The stick was traced through one of the puddles of clay before she moved for something else.

It was the sort of situation that Fletcher normally would have been making wry commentary about, but he didn't feel that fire burning in him. In fact... other than the wound on his shoulder healing pretty fast, he didn't feel much of anything. He looked up at Ren, her face covered with concentration. He looked at Marco, watching everything with that guilty look. He saw Udo's earnest concern, and he saw Yom's helpless frustration. Another sigh left Fletcher's lips, but this was one of resignation

"So I get that the wolf isn't some virus or anything like in the horror movies, it's this magic thing, but what about the allergic reaction to it? How does that fit in?" Fletcher asked. Ren smiled a bit as she traced purple lines onto his arms. She did appreciate students that actually wanted to learn.

"If the wolf is in harmony with the human, they become a member of the Claw Clan. They are able to use the strength of both sides in harmony; they are able to use the mind of the human and the body of the beast. If they are in disharmony, the ego and the drives of the two halves war with each other, even bringing the other to death." Ren said, "But... sometimes, the wolf has no connection to the human. It isn't a well explored aspect." Ren said, a little ashamed there was something she didn't know, "Some guess that the human body rejects the wolf, its existence, its otherness. It reacts the only way it knows how, to keep the curse away. Others believe it's just too much for those humans to bear, that it overwhelms their bodies, their soul." Ren said.

"And when Silas turned, we thought he was dead. Then he woke up as a Direwolf, and now he's just over there." Fletcher said. Ren considered, glancing over.

"Come out young pup." She instructed. Silas slowly emerged from where he had been standing, his red wolf ears flat against his head. Silas looked at Fletcher and walked slowly forward.

"I heard... you got bit." he said.

"And I'm still alive to tell the 'tail'." Fletcher replied. With Demeas gone, he'd been piecing together memories of what had happened. He remembered the dark alpha being in control of his body, and he'd... had some pretty good relations with Silas, enough that he was starting to blush.

Ren watched their exchange and continued on, running the stick through a silvery puddle of metallic slurry before she dropped a small amount on the back of Fletcher's hand. The liquid stayed there until he shifted and then it ran off. Ren slowed to a stop.

"Well, was it exciting at least?" Silas asked. Fletcher pursed his lips.

"Well, yes... Exciting is one way to put it." Fletcher said, looking back at Marco, "I don't think I ever heard you talk as fast as you did to Yom."

"Well, we had a lot of ground to cover." Marco said. He wondered idly if that was why he was so quiet now. Right after biting Fletcher, he'd called Yom as the expert on all things werewolves. He'd asked about what to do, where to go, and then how to get there... Marco had felt utterly helpless without a means of transportation, but thankfully Yom knew Duncan had a truck handy. That was a problem he was going to have to fix.

"So I guess the big question now is, one of us or one of them, right?" Fletcher asked, looking back at Ren. She was still focused on his hand, though she'd withdrawn one of her earrings and pressed the metal to his hand. Fletcher hesitated a little more, "Uh, are you doing color comparison?" he asked. Ren looked up, blinking a few times.

"Not quite, at least not yet." she said. Marco grimaced. Those weren't phrases he had come to enjoy from Keepers.

"What is it?" he asked. Ren looked up a little flummoxed.

"I'm not sure, exactly." she said. Silas' ears popped straight up at that.

"What did you say?" he asked. Ren blushed faintly as she stood up and turned, moving back over to her study. She opened the bookshelf barrier and moved to the back of the office, riffling through her possessions before she returned. She held out a small purple leaf. Yom immediately bristled, his eyes flashing yellow.

"What are you doing? First silver, and now Wolfsbane?" he asked. Udo looked at his larger companion.

"Aconitum Violaceum." Ren commented, "While part of the Wolfsbane family, it isn't as toxic as its more common cousins. Please, indulge me." She said, handing it to Fletcher. Fletcher took the leaf and looked at Ren dubiously, sniffing at it before he put it in his mouth. Yom looked pale at the idea of it, but Fletcher gave it a few bites, looking around.

"What's supposed to happen?" he asked. Ren took the reaction, or rather lack of reaction, in with a slow gaze before she gave a subtle, brief nod.

"I need to put on some tea." She murmured to herself, moving back into her office. The boys were left to look at each other in confusion, wondering what had just happened.



Spicy, savory, and just a hint of sweet - the scent of Echo Creek's best teriyaki. The aroma only intensified as the take out clam shells were opened, revealing the beds of rich coated with the strips of meat and the thick, ooey gooey teriyaki sauce. It was a well deserved, hard earned reward after several hours of unexpected surgery, and it gave Noah Clark a chance to sit down with Doctor Woods at long last.

Noah pulled out the forks and spoons from the bag and set them on the desk, arranging the sweet tea out, though he had to smile a bit as he looked at his co-worker. Doctor Woods was in his late thirties, his brown hair speckled by gray in a salt and pepper sort of pattern. He was always so serious, though around food he seemed to open up more.

“I'm sorry that we had to keep putting this off." Doctor Woods said.

“You're a busy man, Nathan. Even in a town this small, there's a lot to do." Noah smiled.

“Just like you… Those side clinic visits on top of your regular rotation." Nathan replied, digging into his food, murmuring as he savored the taste.

“That is sort of what brings me to you, I stumbled onto a bit of a mystery at Clearwater Clinic." Noah said. Nathan murmured.

“Long term care, right?" he asked. Noah nodded.

“They have a comatose patient, a John Doe. Found just outside of town, dehydrated. They ran DNA tests, but they matched a young man that died four years ago in a freak animal attack." Noah explained. Doctor Woods' hesitated, his food no longer seeming quite so appealing. Freak animal attacks were a phrase he'd heard many times in his career.

“Any chance that the kid's just been missing all this time?" Nathan asked. Noah shook his head.

“No. They had the body, they buried him. Our John Doe is a little too young, the murder was four years ago, but the DNA is an exact match. I… sent out for a fingerprint comparison." Noah said. Nathan's brow twitched. He lived a dangerous life, even in a sanctuary city like Echo Creek. He'd been a werewolf for almost twenty years, and he'd been practicing medicine for just as long. He used his abilities to help people, but on occasion he'd had to hide the truth as well.

“What is the name of the victim?" Woods asked, wondering with morbid curiosity if the pieces of the puzzle would fall into place.

“Conrad Haddix. Pretty unusual name." Noah smiled. Nathan didn't. It wasn't an unusual name to him. It was the name of a Keeper that had betrayed the werewolves, assisting their greatest nemesis, breaking the secret and allowing the world to learn of the wolves even as they were murdered in cold blood. Once more the Haddix family had edged itself to the center of a mystery, and this time it was one directly under his personal domain.



Late afternoon had given way to early sunset. The skies had taken on brilliant shades of pink and orange, filtering through the high windows of the museum. The main heart of the structure had been dedicated to Echo Creek's history, from the Arapaho and the Cheyenne, to gold rushes, statehood, tuberculosis outbreaks, and the museum's specific specialty, the Japanese internment camp populated by many from Echo Creek.

The museum was filled with dioramas, pictures, plaques. The history was all around them, but there was a sense of how much was just beneath the surface, just out of reach. Udo had been trying to learn werewolf history, but it was so secret and there was so much. Fletcher held the tea in his hands, finding it a bit too bitter without sugar. Still, the aroma was very pleasant. He looked up at where Marco was, at the way the light was hitting his skin and his beard. Fletcher shifted a little.

"I'm sorry I was such a jerk." Fletcher said. Marco looked up, a little stunned.

"No, I..." Marco started, though he took a moment to remind himself what had actually upset Fletcher rather than what Marco felt ashamed about. Marco exhaled, "I'm sorry I ruined your turning." he said.

"Hey, not all turnings are that great." Udo said, "Mine sucked, and yours was CPR gone bad." Udo grinned. Marco chuckled.

"I'm still not sure if all of my tongue grew back." he said, casting a glance to Yom. Yom shrugged.

"Hey, having your life saved and turning them into a powerful man beast as reward sounds like some kind of fairy tale to me." Yom replied. Udo smiled at that, though he hesitated, looking back at Fletcher. Fletcher was staring down into his bitter tea.

"What if I didn't turn?" he asked. Yom shook his head.

"But that's not a thing." the Russian wolf replied.

"Hey, I've been breaking rules all along." Fletcher said, looking back up, "What if a formerly dead man can't be a werewolf? Or what if having Demeas inside me broke me? The pieces are all out of place, rattling around like a junk drawer." The words hit Yom very hard. It had been a crime of passion, being caught in the moment, but it had been his fault that Fletcher had died, even if it was only temporarily.

"Even if that's true, the bite didn't kill you." Marco said finally, "You're still here, with us." Marco said. Fletcher pouted a little.

"Then stop hiding over there! Get over here and cuddle me damnit!" Fletcher said, trying to hide his smile. Marco flushed and set his tea down, moving over to sit on the bench. He wrapped an arm around Fletcher and pulled him tightly to his side, leaning over to sniff and then kiss his hair. Fletcher sighed a little more, leaning into Marco, "I wanted to get big and buff." he sighed.

"Hey, we don't all get that." Udo smirked. Fletcher tilted his head and looked over the blond haired Goth.

"Why is that, anyway? Is it a former Omega thing?" Fletcher asked. Udo let out a small growl at the idea of that.

"Some wolves just don't get too big." Yom shrugged, "Others can just keep growing and growing, like our beautiful Alpha." Yom said with pride. Marco rolled his eyes a little at that and rubbed Fletcher's shoulder, though he looked up as Ren emerged from her office. She looked a little strained.

"What did you find out?" Marco asked. Ren rubbed her thumb and index finger back and forth a bit as she tried to contemplate her response. Normally she was leaps and bounds ahead of anyone she ever spoke to.

"None of the Keepers at the temple know what this means." Ren said, turning her gaze to Fletcher, "We got far enough into the ceremony to be reasonably certain you are not a Direwolf. There are herbs and elements to draw out the darkness, to summon the creature, but you were unaffected. But... the same can be said for the werewolf."

"So... what now?" Fletcher asked. Ren gave a weak smile.

"I suggest, until something happens, you get rest and prepare for school tomorrow. I'll keep trying to find answers, but I can see nothing else for us to do." Ren said. Fletcher nodded softly and pushed himself to his feet, murmuring a little. After sitting for so long, his legs had started to fall asleep. He stretched a little and then looked back at his cup, then back to Ren.

"Is there a polite way to leave this somewhere? I'm pretty uncivilized when it comes to tea." Fletcher said. Ren smiled a little.

"A hostess is prepared for all eventualities. I'll take care of it. Just have safe travels." Ren said graciously. Fletcher nodded and set the cup down awkwardly on the bench before he moved to the door, opening it up. The air outside was fresh and cooling down, though he sniffed it a little before he turned, spotting Silas talking to Duncan. It took a few moments before Silas turned and noticed the boys emerging from the museum. The red head came over, adjusting the hat that covered his ears.

"How'd it go?" Silas asked. Fletcher shrugged, watching Yom pass him and move to jump into the back of the truck.

"Sort of like our tower siege in Killer Crimson." Fletcher replied. Silas tilted his head, trying to remember.

"Is that the one where I took out our ladders before they hit the wall, or the time that I triggered the trap door and we fell onto the spikes?" Silas asked. Fletcher shook his head.

"No, it was that time where we couldn't get the door to budge because of the glitch and we just sat there with nothing happening. No troops in, no troops out." Fletcher said. Silas shuddered.

"Oh, that one was worse than me screwing everything up." Silas said. Fletcher chuckled a little at that and nodded.

"Yeah, come to think of it, I think it was. So, how about Friday, we give it another try? You've got a good internet connection here, right? Or even better, how about you come by our room and we can use a direct connection." Fletcher said. Silas grinned brightly.

"That sounds amazing! Good timing too, Saturday is the first full moon." Silas said. Marco looked up at that. He'd gotten so good about thinking when the full moon was since he'd gotten bit, but for the first time he'd let it slip his mind. They had one week of classes, and then his first full moon as campus Alpha. Fletcher reacted to it for an entirely different reason, feeling that old resentment bubbling just beneath the surface. One more full moon he couldn't take part in.



Clouds had started to move in and the day was drawing short. Warm creamy lights had snapped on along the halls of Clearwater Clinic, complimenting the warm tones of the paintings on the wall and the warm wood molding that made the hand rails running down the length. The staff had been a bit surprised by Doctor Clark showing up with another doctor, though the amount of attention he'd been giving the John Doe it wasn't completely unexpected.

The two doctors had proceeded down to the end of the hall, moving into the room and shutting it behind them. Doctor Woods stood by the bed, looking at the patient. In many ways he was unremarkable. No visible injury or contusions. His muscle tone was a bit above average for a teenager, and certainly above average for a coma patient. His complexion was a cocoa brown, contrasted by the thickening black hair on his head and the stubble on his cheeks.

Noah moved up to the bed, looking at this medical mystery, this enigma. His vital signs were strong, too strong. No one unconscious for four months would have been that healthy. He just couldn't get over the feeling that things weren't adding up right, that there was something he was missing. Nathan glanced back over his shoulder, making sure the door was shut tight.

“Noah, have you ever broken your oath of doctor, patient confidentiality?" Doctor Woods asked. Doctor Clark's eyes widened.

“No! No, not on anything that required secrecy… I would never!" Noah said in shock. Doctor Woods had a tired smile.

“Would you go to jail to keep that secret?" Nathan asked. Noah hesitated.

“Y… yes, if it was a situation that put the patient in danger." Noah replied.

“And if you were being tortured, and the only way to stop it was to reveal the condition of your patient which would lead to them being tortured?" Nathan asked. Noah paled.

“What is this about? What are you asking me?" Noah asked. Nathan looked at the patient in the bed. Normally he never would have broached the topic so easily, but he new Doctor Clark. He knew him, and the world was changing. He couldn't keep doing everything alone. When Nathan turned, his eyes were gleaming yellow. His teeth had sharpened, his ears had taken on points and the grey streak in his hair emerged from the stubble pushing out across his jaw line.

“This is about me being a werewolf, just like your patient here." Nathan said. Noah stumbled backwards at first, but he caught himself, lingering for a moment before he pushed forward again.

“Like… like during the blood moon?" he asked. Nathan scoffed.

“No, those were direwolves… Monsters bent on revenge and chaos. I'm far more civilized than that." Nathan replied.

“And this kid… is a werewolf too? That's why he isn't dead? Why he's so healthy?" Noah asked. Nathan's ear twitched a bit at that.

“Actually, no… That is something I… don't understand either." Nathan said, “There is a former student from Grand Mesa, an Ethan Haddix. He came here after his brother died and he was involved in some seriously messed up stuff."

“And now the spitting image of his brother shows up, in a coma after being dead for four years." Noah said.

“The DNA was conclusive?" Nathan asked. Noah nodded.

“Yeah, exact match. Not even a long lost relative." Noah said. Nathan looked at their patient on the bed, still unresponsive.

“So we have a dormant, resurrected werewolf… and we have to figure out how to wake him up." Doctor Woods said. Noah just kept staring at his colleague, amazed that he'd been working besides a supernatural being all this time and had absolutely no clue.


The card reader chirped as the door to the dorm was unlocked and the pack entered the building. The bottom floor had a nice, roomy lounge with pale blue couches in a semi-circle around a big-screen tv that had been left on. School newsletters and old magazines sat unread on the table while the glow of a trio of vending machines cast out from their spot on the side of the room. Udo had opened the door first, holding it for Fletcher to enter with Marco and Yom behind them.

“It'll all feel better after a big cuddle." Yom said, reaching up to pat Fletcher's shoulder. Fletcher gave a weak smile.

“At least it means I'm not a threat, right?" he said half heartedly. Udo had nearly made it to the stairwell when a steady, piercing tone hit his ears. He winced at how loud it was, momentarily muffling the sounds around him. Yom and Marco had winced as well.

“What was that?" Fletcher asked, looking around. There was no one else around, just the television left on showing some commercial with a woman in front of a white background. She was wearing a grey t-shirt and blue jeans and was sitting on a bench. Her deep, dark blue eyes were vivid, her skin a healthy tan, her hair long and robust.

“My name's Sam. I'm twenty-three, a Pisces, I like to snowboard... and I'm a werewolf. I didn't even really know what that meant at first. I was bitten during the eclipse, and my whole life changed." She explained on the screen. Marco's eyes widened in shock. The revelation that werewolves existed had been a devastating blow to the culture that had hidden for centuries, but here was someone outing herself on television?

“It could have been really scary, but I didn't have to go through it alone. I went to Futurza, and together we're finding answers. You can find them too. You don't have to be alone." The vision of the woman faded away, replaced with the company's logo above a web address.

"Great. Everyone's a werewolf but me." Fletcher said softly. Marco, however, was frozen in place. That name, that logo, that web address... he'd seen them all growing up, for years and years. It was the name of the company his father worked for, the company his father had just relocated for. Somewhere in the depths of that company, his dad was studying werewolves.

"Not great..." Yom said, gesturing to other students coming across the parking lot, heading toward the door. This wasn't a safe place to talk about such things. Even on a campus with a dedicated pack, there were students that didn't know, or at least hadn't known that werewolves existed. The group headed up the stairs to the third floor, then down the long hall. It felt like an eternity before they were back in their room. Udo grabbed a towel they used for sound muffling and tossed it across the base of the door, cutting off the crack beneath it.

"So that was it, just... on the television now." Yom growled, bearing his fangs.

"You can't blame people for being curious... It was a worldwide event. Deaths, attacks, people turning." Udo replied.

"But now they're studying us, that's like a whole company peeking into the lives of werewolves. It's like all the horror stories my parents would tell us about what would happen if the world learned about us... Science experiments, dissections..." Yom said.

"I know Futurza, my... my dad works for them." Marco said, still reeling a bit, "They treated us alright over the years, but them moving my dad to Houston, it has to be for this. But maybe... maybe it'll give us more credibility. It has to be better than the world thinking all werewolves are direwolves. All they saw were normal people getting ripped apart by monsters that attacked everyone. This will help people learn the truth." he said, trying to convince himself as much as them. Udo moved over to the laptop and searched for the commercial, bringing it up. He played the video, although he winced again as the tone sounded at the start before Sam started talking.

"Why would they put that at the start?" Udo grumbled. Marco looked up slowly at that.

"To get everyone's attention... It worked for us, right? We all stopped what we were doing and looked right at the tv. They don't want anyone to miss it." Marco said.

"If they're doing things like that just to get people to pay attention off the bat, they're invested in it more than just doing science for science sake. They're trying to get maximum numbers." Yom said. Marco slowly crossed his arms.

"I don't like it." Marco said softly, "But right now it's a risk. Everyone's still in a panic over werewolves existing. People are going to be hurt for outing themselves even if this place is on the level." Marco said.

"Well, you're the campus alpha. How the wolves here proceed, that's up to you." Udo said. Marco was quiet for a long moment. He moved over and sat on the couch, patting both sides. Fletcher moved over and sank down next to him, followed by Yom on the other side. Udo moved over and squeezed in next to Fletcher, sandwiching him in.

"We have to start with what we know. The practices that kept the secret safe can keep the wolves safe. We turn in protected areas, we don't tell anyone about the wolves, and we learn as much as we can... But it isn't just about us anymore. We have to learn what's going on out there. There are direwolves, hunters, Futurza... There's a lot to learn." Marco said.

"Good thing we're college students, we're used to cramming." Fletcher grinned. Marco groaned at that and leaned over to kiss his boyfriend. Fletcher felt a little bit of relief. Maybe, as discouraging as it was, he'd still be okay. At least they didn't have to treat him like he was as fragile as glass. They'd bitten him and nothing had happened... Maybe it was going to be okay.



The weather in Houston had been more of the same. Hot and humid put it mildly. The interior of Futurza was climate controlled, but the work of the day seemed to inspire all the same feelings of being out in the elements. Naomi Bennett sat behind her desk, eyes moving from one screen to the next, analyzing data. The numbers were pouring in faster than anyone could process, but Naomi was giving it her best. A strand of her red hair had fallen across her face, resting up against the glasses she had put on. It was a vulnerability she rarely displayed.

Chad moved over from his post near the corner of the room, setting a cup down on the corner of her desk. Rich, dark brown liquid topped with a pyramid of whipped cream. Naomi looked up slowly, sizing up her muscle bound, cleanly shaved bodyguard. Her pressed lips seemed to betray the corner of a smile at the edges.

"Mint cocoa." He supplied helpfully. Naomi smiled more.

"You do realize it was over eighty today, right? And you aren't my gopher, you're my security." Naomi commented.

"I'd like to think I'm more than that... And you like cocoa every fall, whether it's hot or not." Chad replied. Naomi betrayed her mask and smiled, nodding.

"You are most right." She said, flicking her stylus to send photos to the screens across the room before she set it down and took the cup, sipping at it. The aroma of peppermint floated effortlessly above the cup, enhanced by the sweet of the whipped cream and the more tart dark chocolate cocoa. It was a perfect blend.

Chad turned, looking at the screens. They were filled with profile pictures of people, lots of people. Young, old, male, female. Some were clean cut, others ragged and wild looking. Some even had security flags for past crimes. Chad's brows furrowed as he moved over and looked at the profiles scrolling by. Their origin points weren't just national, some of them were international. Mexico and Canada were fairly represented.

"All of this after just one day of advertisements?" he asked. Naomi nodded.

"Twenty two percent more than projected. We have commercials playing in forty five different markets and we have regional offices processing applicants as fast as they can manage. Background checks and bio-imprinting, all aggregated through here." Naomi said.

"And that's why you had me increase the security patrols and do a structural check of the building?" Chad asked.

"I had you increase the patrols because Rising Sun has gotten a bit... jumpy. They don't appreciate that we came out of the box offering to be the friends of the werewolves. I tried to assure them that to defeat an enemy, you have to know the enemy." Naomi said. Chad nodded.

"It's a wise precaution; I'll make sure they can't make a move." Chad replied, "I would recommend you staying here, but I already know that it's a certainty at this point."

"There's so much to do. Construction's almost done in the basement, they're setting up more than five dozen experiments... We're going to learn more in days than we have in decades." Naomi said softly, looking at the screens, "I want you to double - no, triple check credentials. Janitors, window washers, everyone... I won't make the same mistakes my grandfather did." she said softly, her eyes drifting back to the photograph of the generals on her desk.

"I'll re-run them all personally." Chad said, "In the meantime, do you want to follow your cocoa up with anything?" he asked. Naomi looked back at the screens, seeing face after face of people that had come forward as werewolves.

"Just answers..." Naomi said softly, unable to look away from the endless stream of those that had put their lives in her hands.