The Alpha's Lunar Bond
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Kex Harper
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37
A New Start
UNKNOWN
āMeet me at the cafĆ© on 5th Street at three p.m. tomorrow, and Iāll tell you everything I know about the murders.ā
I watched Ezra stuff his phone back into his pocket and dug my claws into the earth.
So he was going to the humans, was he? Sell us out for a moment of safety heād never live to enjoy?
Well, that couldnāt happen.
As soon as he had his back to me, I launched out of the trees and sank my teeth into his neck. They passed easily through the skin and muscle, warm blood filling my mouth.
He attempted to pull free, and fur began sprouting from his knuckles. Before he could shift, I wrenched my head back and ripped his jugular. Blood sprayed the meticulously mowed lawn.
For a moment, I glanced at the farmhouse at the other end of the property, but the lights were out.
Satisfied I wouldnāt be seen, I stood over the bodyāblood slick on my muzzle, the heat of the kill still pulsing in my veins.
Ezra would have betrayed the pack. And I would rip open a hundred more throats before I let that happen.
Especially now that I was one step closer to fulfilling the prophecy.
***
CLARA
I pulled into the parking lot of the address Iād been given and was pleasantly surprised to find a nice stone building there to greet me.
Perhaps my crappy apartment had set me up to believe Iād work in a crappy office building as well, but I would guess this high-rise was less than five years old.
The inside was just as nice. Glass doors opened into a large lobby with white marble floors and floor-to-ceiling windows everywhere.
I spotted the elevator directly across the room from the entrance and hurried toward it, my heels clicking nervously on the shiny floor.
Iād left half an hour earlier than I thought Iād need, but traffic made me only ten minutes early.
Melville wasnāt very big, but a car accident had managed to back everything up. Apparently, every single person worked in the same two blocks at the same time.
As I passed people, I caught myself studying their faces. Did any of them seem familiar?
Did any of them recognize me?
I didnāt even know what I was looking forājust a flicker of something. A connection.
But nobody looked twice.
The elevator barely made a sound as it took me up to the fifth floor.
I stepped out onto a pleasant blue-gray carpet and followed the signs for Suite 5A. A metal placard reading The Melville Times announced Iād reached the correct place, so I rang the doorbell and waited.
Through the glass door, I spotted a freckle-faced man coming.
He wasnāt very tallāmaybe five foot elevenāand sported curly red hair that would make Shirley Temple jealous.
He pressed a button next to the door and pushed it open, greeting me with a smile.
āHello, how can I help you?ā
āHi, Iām Clara. The new journalist?ā
I extended my hand, and the man brightened.
āOh! Welcome! Iām Jason. Come on inside. Mr. Perkins is waiting for you in his office.ā
Jason shook my hand, and I couldnāt help but notice how strong his grip was. He practically dragged me inside, but his enthusiasm kept me from being offended.
The office consisted of four rooms: a break room that we passed through to reach the rest of the space, an office, a conference room, and one large area broken into cubicles.
Jason marched me right up to the office door and knocked, while I did my best not to panic. Something about being dragged right to the bossās office made my lizard brain think I was already getting fired.
Because that made any kind of sense.
I rolled my eyes at myself and straightened my spine to assert my dominance. Over what, I didnāt know, but I did it anyway.
Mr. Perkins was a large man with a smattering of gray hair and a handlebar mustache.
āThe newbie is here, sir!ā Jason chirped, stepping behind me.
I maintained my dominant posture and walked up to meet Mr. Perkins at his desk.
He stood and shook my hand, then shooed Jason away.
āBarnabas Perkins,ā he introduced himself. āYou must be Clara Parks.
āI know I assigned you to interview Ezra Howard this afternoon with Jason as an introduction to the job, but circumstances have changed. Jason will be working on that project alone, and Iāll bring over your new assignment shortly.
āHereās your badge and intake paperwork; donāt lose the badge. It gets you through our security door and also works as your press badge in the field.ā
I accepted the folder and white name tag with my photo on it.
I hated the headshot that Iād sent in with my resume, but I never imagined it would end up on a badge. I resolved to get that replaced someday and nodded my understanding.
Mr. Perkins dismissed me, and I walked back into the large room.
For a moment, I felt a bit lost, but then I located Jasonās curls over the top of one of the cubicles. I made a beeline for him and stood next to his desk.
āSo, uhāthe boss says he took me off the Ezra interview.ā
Jason leaned back in his chair and stifled a sigh. āUnfortunately,ā he grumbled, then brightened. āBut that means you donāt have to deal with it. Also, we donāt really have assigned desks, but everyone has their favorites. Youāre welcome to take the one next to me. Nobody ever sits there.ā
āBecause youāre annoying?ā I teased.
To my surprise, Jason began to laugh. āBecause Iām annoying,ā he agreed. āBut I swear I shower regularly, and I donāt bring tuna sandwiches for lunch. So there could be worse people to sit next to.ā
I chuckled and sat down at the empty desk, which held a computer, a box of tissues, and a container of pens.
āWhy did the boss kick me off the project? He was happy to let me interview Ezra with you when he called me at seven a.m.āwhile I was still sleeping.ā
āBecause Ezra is dead. Itās gone from ātake the newbie to interview this guy who may or may not know anythingā to āgo interview the man who found a body.āā
I stared at Jason, waiting for him to crack a smile and tell me he was joking. But he didnāt, and my eyes widened.
āSeriously? I thought you just spoke to him on the phone an hour ago!ā
āI was probably the last person to talk to him. He was found dead at the edge of the woods on the north side of town at eight oāclock a.m. Apparently, his body was pretty messed up, like heād been attacked by a wolf or something.
āBut the wounds were too targeted for a random animal attack, so itās being treated as a murder. Fourth one this year. People are starting to talk about a possible serial killer with really big pet dogs. So instead of interviewing Ezra, Iām going to go interview the guy that found him.ā
I shuddered, unable to keep myself from imagining what that corpse must have looked like. āThatās terrible. And Iām guessing all four bodies have turned up the same way?ā
He nodded. āSure have, all in the same area. Though hereās the strange part: up until now, theyāve all been women between twenty-five and thirty years old. They donāt seem to have any physical similarities, per se, so the police are having a hard time putting together a victim profile.ā
āI would move to a tiny town in the middle of probably the biggest story in their history,ā I muttered.
Jason began to laugh. āItās not that small. We have a Walmart!ā
Before I could ask for more information, Mr. Perkins ambled over. He had a manila folder and a look that immediately set me on edge. What kind of bottom-of-the-totem-pole job was I in for?
āGood morning, boss man.ā
He nodded in acknowledgment and sat on the corner of my desk, much to my annoyance. I restrained myself from reminding him that desks are for computers, not butts, and pasted a smile on my face.
āHere to give me my first big assignment, since my fifteen years of prior experience arenāt enough to do a tandem interview on the original case?ā
He ignored my attitude and handed me the folder.
It was light, and if I hadnāt seen the white corner of a page sticking out, I would have assumed it was empty.
āI donāt know if Iād call it a ābigā assignment, but itās your first test here. Everything you need to know is in the folder, and I expect the first draft of the article by Friday.ā
I did my best not to growl at Perkins, flipped open the folder, and began scanning the page. āArtist Elias Franke,ā it said at the top, bold and simple.
An artist?
He really was starting me on Babyās First Interviewā¦ But I gave him a small salute and closed the folder.
āCan do. Anything I should know before I start?ā
I picked up the notepad and pen next to my computer, eager to show him I was serious. I could handle real jobs. Iād handled plenty of them. I didnāt need ātests.ā
āNot much. The guy is elusive and lives in a cabin about an hour into the woods. Iād suggest scheduling your interview during the daytime or in town if you can coax him out.ā
Mr. Perkins smirked and stood, finally removing his nasty butt from my desk.
I was distracted enough with thoughts of Clorox wipes that it took me a moment to process what heād said.
Elias Franke lived in the woods?
The woods? Where all the women were turning up dead?
