Wolf Prints

The Alleged Alpha Convict

Luck was not on my side. It was painfully obvious.

Did humans always freak out this bad around teeny, tiny accidents? I mean, really.

Surely it wasn't necessary to clear out the entire school.

Okay, I sort of get it. So there was a small fire that may have originated from my belonging and consumed a small portion of the gym and maybe most of the bleachers. And a wall.

And a classroom.

And sure, there had been a lot of smoke. Big deal. No one got hurt.

Did they really need to call in the entire fire department?

And taking me in for questioning. Was that really necessary?

"No, sir." I repeated in a bored tone to the overly serious police officer for what had to be the thousandth time. It surely felt like it. "I have no idea what could have started the fire."

I did, of course. The culprit was perched on the table not a foot away from him in all his invisible glory. Though I couldn't very well tell him that my pet dragon was learning how to start fires.

Irony can jump off a cliff for all I care.

No, I'm not exactly an upstanding citizen, but I can honestly say that being in an interrogation room was a new one for me. My nose wrinkled in disgust as I tried breathing through my mouth. In the movies they never truly portray how horrendous it is to be sitting on the wrong side of this table. The cop wasn't even the worst of it, though he wasn't here to make my life any easier.

The absolute worst thing about sitting here? The room positively reeked of sweat and desperation. It was so deeply imbedded in the walls I could almost hear the screams of anxiety.

Not exactly a pleasant combination under the best of circumstances, but with my enhanced senses it was just cruel and unusual punishment.

The door opened to allow in yet another man with a badge tucked down the side of his pants. I was accumulating quite the collection of boys in blue. At present there were four, but others had come and gone.

This one pulled out the vacant seat directly across from me and placed a ceramic cup of coffee on the table without so much as a glance in my direction, as if I was below his notice.

"Arson is a crime, miss..." The police officer paused as he flipped open a yellow folder and scanned quickly over the contents. They'd taken my fingerprints; I knew what was in his hands before he opened his mouth and spoke. "Lunalynn Renee Reische. Fancy name." He said as he tossed the folder on the table and looked up at me for the first time.

It wasn't an entirely friendly look.

I fought not to growl and instead took a deep breath, reveling in the strong smell of French Roast the coffee emitted. I'd ask for a cup if only to negate the far less pleasant fumes wafting around the room, but judging by the glare I was receiving, this man wasn't rolling out the red carpet for just any alleged teenage convict.

"Everyone calls me Luna." I admitted. It was the only admission he'd be getting out of me.

"I see." He nodded, but I don't think he really did. It seemed more like he was trying to make me break down in a confession with just his glare alone.

Which wasn't going to happen.

"So then, Lunalynn, why don't you tell me what happened?" He asked, but everyone in the room knew it wasn't really a question.