I was up early the next morning, head half-laid on the Covenant’s dining room table with my eye heavy and three empty energy drinks next to me, answering a few texts from Elizabeth. Andrew sat next to me slowly working, plugging wires into the exposed motherboard of the computer tower; with his arm attached to the case by a clawed cord. His eyes thin, head close as he muttered along, occasionally glancing to the paper on his side and shaking his head in annoyance.
My attention drifting away from him to Barbie sat across from me, chin resting on her hands smiling at me. The woman looking like she was ready to say something as I sat there expectantly, trying to figure out if we were getting any progress.
Only pulled from it by fingers snapping right next to me, and I half jumped to see Andrew staring me down with a furrowed brow. The man making sure he had my attention before starting, “you need more sleep, Mary? Was trying to tell you, think we’re all good, can you just hand me the tower side?”
And I jumped to attention, grabbing the glass side of the pc tower and passing it along, watching the man pop it into place and turn the thumbscrews tight. A thin smile on his face as I asked, “so that’s everything? Nothing else I need to do?”
Andrew hummed a few seconds, tossing his wrist band in a pile of boxes as he hesitantly admitted, “well, there tends to always be something that doesn’t work first try, but I think it should be? I got you some pretty good parts, while keeping you in budget, and while internet might be a problem for you down in the basement, I can look into running an ethernet cable down from the living room if we really need to.”
Not waiting for me to ask what to do next, Andrew rose to his feet and picked the tower up in his arms, gesturing me forward as I rose and ran in front of him. Through the decaying ancient halls of the Covenant building, a former plantation long ago passing a point where it could be reasonably maintained as was, and down the basement stairs. A careful march down with me staying a bit too close, worrying he’d fall and drop my newest purchase, until we came into my room.
A rather nice basement, or at least I liked to think so, one could be forgiven thinking it wasn’t necessarily meant as a bedroom now that I’d given it my personal touch. An old and worn wooden queen sized bed tucked against the wall, covered in a small pile of plushies and some dirty clothes with a trunk at the foot, a dresser in the corner with a small altar on top, and a small wooden table in one corner with four chairs tightly pressed in. A couch through the middle, an old flat screen on a TV-stand from off a sidewalk and a carpet between them, a three-shelf bookshelf filled with old paperbacks and some game books, and a desk in the corner.
Rather hastily set up, the Desk was an old second-hand one of wood, covered in more scuffs and marks than I could count. A single monitor set up on top with a keyboard and mouse laid in front still in their boxes, and room for the tower beside them. Folded against the wall it was near a plastic fold-up table and on the other side my sewing machine in its case on the floor, with a few bags for crafts set on top of that.
The walls decorated in their own way, there was a trans pride flag hung on the stairs, and the wall by my bed had three framed posters. Martyr’s, Creepshow, and Blair Witch, the first two had been gifts from Misha for Christmas and then my birthday, based on my taste in movies, and the last a gift from Percy as a good bit of personal nostalgia. The other walls topped off with scattered paintings — a sealed charcoal sketch of me in one my dresses sat in a chair, a faded painting of the Richmond skyline from probably thirty years ago, and one of the James River.
All three paintings by the same artist, only two properly marked B.R. which probably wasn’t going to make me look better if I ever told them about the ghost.
Overall, my room was starting to feel particularly crowded and perhaps a little too busy (I was considering getting rid of the table and chairs) but like a home I lived in.
Andrew of course didn’t exactly stop and appreciate it the same way and went about plugging in various chords and wires while mumbling to himself. A brief curse as he adjusted his position, a furrowed brow as he kept peeking behind various items, and finally smiling as he pressed the power button.
Nothing happened of course, and Andrew waved his hand through the air as he comforted me, “let me check something,” and opened the side panel once more. Looking it over a long moment before snapping and moving a few plugs, once more closing it and trying the power button as everything finally seemed to turn on. The monitor showing a red and black set up as I asked, “so everything works now?”
“Everything’s mostly right, I’ll just get your operating system set up and you should be good,” Andrew admitted with a small smile, twirling a thumb drive labeled mint from his pocket he plugged in as he took his spot in front of the computer. Head held back as he asked, “I think everything will be ready in an hour or so. You’re heading out for a while though aren’t you?”
And I had to smile, my face warm as I half-covered my mouth and admitted, “quick breakfast with Sigyn to touch base, but um…Gevaudan and Martin are in town. Just for a week — they’re leaving a couple days after Christmas, but I’m staying with them in the meantime. Apparently The Lady still has some apartment set aside they’re allowed to use, I don’t know the details about that, but um…yeah.”
“Well good for you,” Andrew chuckled with a glance back. Jovial eyes rolling as he scolded me, “you’re lucky I double checked then, because you didn’t even notice my present on your nightstand.”
And honestly, yeah, that was my fault, all things considered having packed late last night in a tired stumble and chucking those bags in my car early this morning before finding Andrew already started. I wasn’t even sure when he’d had time to bring the gift down as I looked over and saw the small box on my dresser.
“Andrew you shouldn’t have,” I laughed as I took up the polka dotted red and green paper, turning it over as I hesitantly ripped it open. A thin box greeted me as I read over the label a few times and told him, “I said I was going to get one once they left.”
“And you know barely anything about electronics, and that’s a nice webcam with great camera quality and fps,” Andrew countered, mockingly faking some deep thought before adding on, “delivered on good word that Tara had an old ring light she didn’t use anymore she’d probably toss your way, and a headset with microphone was on its way from someone else. It got kinda sad just seeing you dropping your phone every time you did a video call with Martin, you know that?”
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
Once more, fully justified reaction though probably a bit more embarrassing as I hesitantly muttered, “I’m going to go start on breakfast,” and walked up stairs, tossing the webcam on my bed.
Normally the sort of thing that Knives handled, the only person in the world who actually seemed to enjoy waking up and making a huge meal before coffee, they were visiting family for the week and the rest of the pack had divided the labor. “Divide the labor” in this case meaning thus far Tara and Andrew managing to give me of all werewolves food poisoning twice, Basil made eggs that were somehow both burnt and raw, and I somehow was the only one able to do a slightly burnt but edible breakfast.
Which probably said something about our ability to survive anything divided, but wasn’t really my place to say.
“You’re being too hard on them,” Barbie scolded me.
“I am,” I agreed, only a moment later realizing she spoke again while I was grabbing boxes and ingredients from around the fridge, the girl missing as I looked back to her.
Maybe a good sign she’d spoke to me twice in as many days, and putting a smile on my face while I looked up the recipe on my phone once more. The dream of creating omelets my most ambitious recipe attempt yet as I went about setting everything up.
Only just starting on cutting the bacon into chunks when I heard footsteps beside me, a familiar stench of strong cleaners and plastic with an air of blood and familiar pheromones. A few seconds later and a cleared throat as I looked up to Samuel. The man looking exhausted, hair a bit ragged and eyes dark with exhaustion as he watched me in his pink scrubs while he sighed, “you’re doing it wrong.”
“It’s cutting bacon, there’s not a wrong way to do it,” I muttered with a small sigh, closing my eye even as that familiar feeling of doubt crept in. Of course I’d fucked up on chopping bacon, why wouldn’t I assume I wouldn’t? I wasn’t exactly house trained for a wolf, and everything I’d done with this was taught by either Andrew or cookbooks and websites.
All the same, the man stepped up and quickly scrubbed his hands before gently taking the knife from me, checking the blade before tossing it in the sink and drawing another from the block. This one a good bit larger as he held it up and explained, “that was a utility knife, it’s better for trimming than cutting. Use a chef’s knife for chopping or cutting, especially when dealing with meats,” and the man moved the blade in his hand, holding it across the top of the handle and pinching the back of the blade where it met the handle, “also hold it like this, your job’s going to be a lot easier on you. I’ll show you how to do the cut safely so you don’t hurt yourself,” and he pushed me aside only a moment before staring at the skillet and asking, “that’s all the butter you’re using? For eggs? In a cast iron pan?”
And I could only stare him down a few seconds in confusion before finally asking, “why do you care about cooking so much?”
“Not all of us had werewolves who already knew about cooking when we got here, and I needed something to stop myself from going insane outside the Purists so I took a few classes,” Samuel sighed as he suddenly closed his eyes, leaning forward with his head against cupboard, “By the wolf gods, I needed good food after what some of my pack mates taught me to make. You ever had boiled chicken?”
I shook my head, and Samuel sighed as he gestured me over to watch, briefly explaining himself through the first few cuts of bacon before passing the knife to me. Quickly correcting my hand position before letting me slowly finish off the work, chuckling as he ruffled a hand through my hair, surprisingly not causing the wolf to growl out, “see you’re getting it. Let me grab the cooking spray, I’ll show you how to do this well enough. Looks like Omelets?”
“Samuel, you don’t need to,” I started awkwardly, feeling a small heat to my face at the man trying to take over. I’d been looking forward to attempting this on my own, having him come in to explain how bad I was doing was not helping. “I mean, I can probably handle it and you look like you could get some rest so maybe-”
“Mary,” Samuel interrupted, his smile suddenly a dull expression I couldn’t read, something almost wrong behind the attempt at joy he was holding, “I’ve…it was a rough day at work. I was going to be up for a bit anyway, and you could do with a good meal. There’s no shame in having someone to teach you to do it, because then you can do it on your own afterwards.”
“Alright,” I muttered, frowning as I looked to the ground for only a moment before he laid a comforting hand on my shoulder and I told him, “I need to make two, one for me and one for Sigyn; she just texted me a bit ago she was on her way so should be any moment now.”
“Well, let’s go for three then — I need breakfast, and it let’s you do it twice,” Samuel chuckled as he looked over my ingredients, moving them around in some order only he knew the reason for and fetching a few things from the pantry, “Sigyn’s human, so I’ll make hers first and show you how its done, no chance of getting sick from anything raw. We can survive if anything’s a little raw or someone manages to get blood in it, and I don’t think either of us are strangers to raw eggs or blood.”
And no that was fair, me eating an egg raw was part of what had made Knives start including me on her pack breakfasts, before I’d halfway joined them. Purists and raw foods were common combos, and I was sure Samuel had lived every bit as rough as me, if not more.
Leaned back against the counter, I was only given a few seconds of rest before Samuel pulled me back into helping — adding about three ingredients to my planned omelet and having me prepare most of them. Perhaps over explaining every ingredient and its preparation, how to tell when bacon and belle peppers and onions were done, even going into different ideas and variations.
By the time eggs were being cracked Sigyn had arrived, the faint smell of weed and perfume followed by her natural scents. The woman coming into view a second later calling out, “it’s everyone’s favorite human back in the house!” Someone on the floor above us gave a triumphant “whoop” in response, even if I wasn’t sure it was anyone who actually knew Sigyn. Sigyn still running with it as she yelled back, “and I love you, random citizen!” and half-collapsing into one the chairs at the kitchen table to ask, “so why did we need to do this meeting? I thought we had a week off?”
“We do,” I sighed, quickly correcting it with, “we will, but these murders are getting a little out of hand, The Lady just wanted us to put in half a day and see what we can’t do. If it’s too bad, she said she’d have Samuel handle it, — sorry, Samuel.”
“I get it.”
“And otherwise it’s probably something she can have literally anyone else cover,” I finished with a small clap, “Allie said most of it was going to be just phone calls to different sources and looking around, but we have a few places to ask around. She gave me three people who might know something about what’s going on and we’re just running through them, one of them works out pretty well,” I muttered, pulling the paper I’d prepared earlier from my pocket and stretching it out, “Vergil said he had some old contacts with ‘old world’ Mercenaries, might be of some help figuring out who tried killing my dad. The Fey are being…well, fey, so I have to organize an unannounced meeting with their queen. Goodfellow is going to help me force that out, and I needed to pick something up from him anyway. Then there’s some pastor in town she thought might know if someone independent’s coming into town, Father Arthur? Something about-”
“I can talk to him,” Samuel interrupted me once more, getting a strange look from Sigyn and I both as he explained, “we know each other pretty well, he’s a little weird with strangers. I’d have way better luck than you.”
And I had to stare him down for a long time, not sure why exactly he was volunteering for this sort of job as tired as he already looked.
Samuel was an errands boy, he ran back and forth picking up evidence and coordinating contacts more than anything. Even at the worst of times I thought The Lady had only sent him out for investigations if it was something that had an obvious culprit or was just too far away for me to cover at the same time. For someone that was also working a full time nurses job I couldn’t see him being too excited about working.
Not long to think on it before the man suddenly turned and with a small smile declared, “alright, let’s get cooking. You wanna see how to make omelets, Sigyn?”
