Witch Wolf (Camren) Book 1

Chapter 5

  It wasn't until around six that I arrived back at the office. I wanted to get the Pro .40 out of my desk drawer tonight instead of tomorrow. If I did it tonight, my entire afternoon tomorrow would be free, since Stein was working. Her name is actually Hailee Steinfeld. I fell into the habit of calling her Stein for short, and not long after that June started calling her by it as well.

 Oh, she was a bit irked with me for a few weeks, telling me that I made her sound like clothing dye or a lice-killing shampoo. I think it eventually grew on her, because she finally stopped complaining. Stein and I alternated days. She worked one day and I worked the next. It helped us both to keep a healthy balance between fieldwork and office work.

 Every P.I. works differently. It's what worked for us. There were days when I got called out of the office while the only person here was June. If that was the case, she told any potential clients to make an appointment. She tried not to schedule any appointments that would interfere with our days off, but as with any job, it happened.

 I crossed the street and stepped onto the sidewalk, reaching for the door. My fingertips had just brushed the handle when the smell hit me. The breeze smelled of forest, of damp leaves and moist soil. It was an earthy scent, not the salty scent of a human. I let my hand fall away from the door. I didn't reach for my gun. 

My nostrils flared as I took that scent inside of me. It flooded my senses better than any alcoholic burst of air freshener. Being a werewolf, I'd recognize another werewolf from a mile away. This wolf was much closer than that. I turned my face toward the direction of the smell. She stood about ten feet away wearing a yellow sweater and jeans. Her skin was tanned, a healthy tan that only the sun could give. The breeze sent her shoulder-length ombre hair billowing, and she raised a small hand to tuck it behind her ear. Her rich amber eyes met mine and there was a moment of acknowledgment. Her chest rose and fell as she drew a long breath. I watched as her nostrils flared slightly, and her full lips parted. She tasted my scent on the air. 

Those lips curved into a seductive smile and she inclined her head, as if to say, "I know what you are," but neither of us needed words. I stood there for a moment and then slowly inclined my own. The door opening startled me and I turned to find June about to run me over. "Well, finally you return," she grumbled, "just as I was about to lock up." 

"I need to grab something before you do," I said. I sprinted up the stairs and down the hallway to my office. I unlocked the door and went to my desk, opened the bottom drawer, and took out the Pro .40. I tucked it at the small of my back, pulling my blouse down over it. I made sure that the coat covered the bulk.

June was waiting at the door with an impatient look on her face. "Hurry up," she said. "I've got to get home and get dinner started." I decided to be polite, instead of reminding her who signed her checks. "Sorry, June. I'll see you Wednesday." She waved me off. "Yeah, yeah. I'll see you then." I shook my head. People thought I was rude? Obviously, they hadn't met my secretary. 

That trace of earth and pine still rode the wind, letting me know that the she wolf was still close by. I resisted the urge to draw my gun and focused on getting to the car. I was almost to the car when a woman's voice stopped me in my tracks. "Are you Camila Cabello?" I spun on my heel to face her, drawing the Pro .40, clicking off the safety, and hoisting it in a two-handed grip. I looked down the sights, barrel aimed at her forehead. Her eyes widened.

 "Why?" I asked as a strange sense of calm filled me. "Because if you are," she took a brave step forward, "then I need to talk to you. Please," she said, eyes meeting mine over the gun, "I swear, I give you my most solemn oath that I mean you no harm."