I spun in my seat, pressing the large black button on the wireless intercom. The intercoms were new and for the past several days, I'd entertained myself immensely by driving June insane with them. I didn't need to see her flying out of her seat every time the little box buzzed to know she still hadn't gotten used to them.

"What?" she grumbled.

"June?" I asked, waiting to see what kind of response she would come up with this time. The last time, she'd accused me of trying to give her a heart attack and threatened to throw the intercom systems in the trash. I was the boss, but June was my I-don't-give-a-shit-what-you-think-of-my-attitude secretary. She was one tough broad. I respected her for that.

"What is it, Miss Cabello?" Her words were polite. Her tone was not. I smiled to the empty room.

"Seeing if you're still here."

There was a long pause. "And where the heck would I go?"

"I don't know," I said, aimlessly strangling the pencil on my desk with a rubber band. "There's a strip club three blocks away. Maybe there?"

I waited. It wouldn't take long for her to lose her patience. I know it was petty of me, childish even, but a woman had to have some fun. June proved to be a good source of entertainment on a slow day at the office.

"To see what?" she asked, exasperated. I bit my bottom lip, trying to hold in the burst of laughter that threatened to erupt. "If I wanted to see naked hillbillies, I'd go home and tell my husband to strip."

I pressed the button and said, laughing, "Good one."

Ten minutes later the intercom screeched like a little boxed banshee and I jumped, stifling a growl.

"Ms. Cabello," June said in a voice that was way too nice to be authentic. "Your five o'clock appointment, Skyler Felts, is here."

I slipped my stocking clad feet into the heels I'd kicked off under the desk. "Send her in," I said, trying to pull my attire back together. I took the black blazer off the back of the chair and slipped it on over the white blouse I was wearing. If it weren't for the wide legged black trousers and the heels, the suit might've made me look more like a Secret Service agent than a Preternatural Investigator. I was fairly certain Secret Service agents were smart enough to wear flats, though.

I was wearing my gun, a Kimber Eclipse Lauren had given me as a gift, tucked into the shoulder rig. The shoulder rig had been a late birthday present from Shawn. He'd said Lauren wouldn't be able to rip it off me. I wasn't sure I believed it was indestructible, but Lauren and I hadn't exactly tested the theory. Call me cautious, but I was reluctant to sacrifice another holster.

I checked the mirror in my office, making sure the blazer hid the bulk of the weapon. I tucked the white streak in my long brown hair behind my ear.

Most clients tend to get uncomfortable around guns, but I was a cop before I was infected with the lycanthropy virus, and some habits die hard. I still work with the cops, but now I make my own schedule. I don't have to worry about the full moon interfering with my job and so far, I've done pretty good at keeping my secret from my ex-colleagues.

There was the barest of knocks on the frosted glass door.

"Come in."

The door opened. "Ms. Cabello?" A girl stood in the doorway, casting an uncertain glance into the room.

I went to the door and held it open. "Yes." I offered my hand. "I'm Camila. Are you Skyler?"

"Yeah."

She took my hand and gave it a firm shake. I motioned for her to take a seat and she did so, running a hand through her long raven colored hair. 

Skyler Felts was an androgynous beauty. The long hair suited the sharp line of her jaw. Smoky eye shadow brought out the brown of her irises. Her lips had a natural sullen pout to them.

She took off the jacket she wore. The buckles clinked as she draped it across the back of the chair. The pants she wore clung to her body with two two holes in the knees. She'd tucked the pants into a pair of ankle high combat boots. The outfit was modern and had a young style, which made me guess she was in her early twenties.

I smiled, taking a seat. "What can I do for you today, Skyler?"

Skyler stopped scanning the room to look at me. "I heard rumor that you're family."

I blinked, leaning back in my seat, careful that my jacket didn't gape and that I didn't flash gun.

"Family?" I asked. I understood what "family," meant, but was she talking witchy, furry, or lezzy?

Skyler gazed at the painting of the wolf on the wall behind my desk, obviously a bit uncomfortable. The red wolf painting had been a gift from friend and beta werewolf of the Blackthorne pack, Dinah Jane Hansen. I'd been surprised to find out that she was an artist. With the amount of artistic talent she had, she could've sold the sucker for a few hundred. I'd told her as much, but she'd insisted that I take the painting. The red wolf was also Dinah's werewolf form. The gesture was sweet, and I wasn't sure of Dinah's intentions with it, but every time I saw it, it reminded me that I'd accidentally claimed her. I really wished she'd sold the damn thing.

"You play for the same team?"

"What team are we talking about?" I asked.

"The all girls team," she said.

"Are you asking me if I'm a lesbian?"

"Uh...yes?" She didn't sound very certain.

"Then just ask."

"Are you a lesbian?"

"Yes," I said. "Is that what you came here for? To determine my sexual orientation?"

Skyler's cheeks flushed a bright shade of red.

"No, I'm sorry. I'm gay too and...and...I think my girlfriend is cheating on me."

"You think?" I asked.

Skyler picked out a corner of the ceiling to stare at while she spoke. "She's been acting really weird lately, telling me she has to work late, canceling lunch dates. We live together. Normally, she's home around midnight, but lately she hasn't been getting home until around two thirty in the morning. When I ask her why she has to stay late, she blames it on the new manager at work."

"Where does she work?"

"At a food joint," she told me.

"Okay." I folded my arms across the desk. "You think your girlfriend is cheating on you. If you want to hire me to find out whether she is or is not, I need specifics. Is that what you came here for?" It was important to me that I repeat the client's words, not only to get the specific details I needed for the investigation, but to make sure what they intended to pay me for was perfectly clear.

"Yes, that's why I'm here. Karin and I have been together for almost five years. This wouldn't be the first time she hasn't kept it in her pants." She held my gaze, looking uncomfortable and uncertain.

"Do you know for a fact she's cheated on you before? Does she have a history of being unfaithful?"

"Yeah."

I fixed her with a blank look. "So you know what I might find on this investigation. Are you willing to deal with the outcome?"

"Look," she said, sitting upright, "I'm not going to go psycho on her or anything. If she's cheating on me, I have a right to know. I told her last time if I caught her cheating again I'd kick her ass out of the apartment. I have a right to know. I intend to kick her ass out if she's fucking me over."

For the first time, there was no uncertainty in her. There was anger in her tone, righteous anger. I agreed with her. She had a right to know if her girlfriend of almost five years was cheating on her. Hell, I'd want to know so I could kick her ass out too.

I didn't often work on mundane, "I think my spouse is cheating," cases, and a part of me wondered if she'd paid any attention to the sign on the door that read, "Preternatural Investigations."

I sighed. "All right. I'll do it."

The whole spouse "might be" cheating thing could turn ugly really fast, but then, so did most of the cases I took involving the preternatural. At least this one had a sense of normal about it. Whatever normal is these days.

Skyler spent the next fifteen minutes telling me what she knew and suspected. She thought her girlfriend was cheating on her with someone from work, which is where I came in. It was kind of like a true or false question I got to answer. Karin DeStilo worked at Al's Diner, a burger joint in downtown Miami City. Skyler gave me the address.

I opened the top drawer on my desk and tossed in the notebook that I'd written Karin's name and work address in. I opened the second drawer and pulled out one of the contracts. The only time I'd actually let the contract slide was with Dinah, because she was another werewolf, and she had wanted to keep everything on the down low. In all seriousness, it wasn't a smart move on my behalf. Fortunately, I still received payment.

When Lauren and her vampires couldn't find Dinah's brother, Lauren sent Dinah to me. One night, my friend and licensed Paranormal Hunter Shawn and I were investigating a series of murders committed by a werewolf, and we spotted Dinah near the crime scene and followed her back to The Two Points, Lauren's club in the city.

It was there that Lauren offered her aid and we began working together and, well, dating.

I was usually very strict on the whole contract thing. I took the case with Dinah because she was a member of the local werewolf pack and wanted someone outside the pack to help her. The contract protects both the client and me. It states very clearly that even if I don't find any valuable information, I get paid for my efforts. If a client doesn't think I'm doing a good job, they can still try to take me to court based upon what they perceive as a lack of effort. It's important when working a case to be able to bring physical evidence to the table. If I couldn't prove that I'd done my research and my job, I could be in deep shit. Sometimes, the threat of deep shit is a good motivator.

"I need you to read and sign this contract," I said. "It states very clearly that regardless of the outcome, I still get paid. If you don't feel I've done my part, you're welcome to challenge that. It goes over the privacy policy..."

Skyler took the contract, leaning over the desk and mumbling as she read it. I always gave a person the rundown of what the contract stated, but I still expected them to read it very carefully to make sure they understood what they were signing.

Skyler held her hand out and I gave her the pen.

"Thanks," she mumbled, scribbling her signature on the line at the bottom of the page.

I took the contract and signed my own signature on the other side of hers. I opened the bottom left drawer and took out the manila folder that had all her information in it. The information was basic: name, telephone, address, etc. June made my job easier by having a potential client fill out the document before coming in for an interview. An interview goes both ways, not only were we interviewing potential clients, but the client was interviewing us.

"Do you have any questions?"

She gave me a questioning look. "I just let you do your job, right?"

"Yes, and if I find anything, I'll contact you." I pushed a black and white business card with my cell number on it across the desk. "If you have any questions you're welcome to call me."

Skyler stood and took the card then slipped it into her pocket.

I walked around my desk, offering my hand again. "Have a good evening, Skyler."

"If you call a client by their first name, does that mean they get to call you by yours?"

"If that's what you prefer," I said, smiling, hand still hovering in the air.

In the heels, she was only an inch or taller than me. Skyler took my hand. A sudden burst of energy, almost like an electric shock, jolted between our clasped palms. Goosebumps crawled up and down my flesh.

Skyler jerked her hand from mine, a little too late.

I felt the wolf rouse inside me, raising her snout in curiosity, ears perking in interest.

"That was weird," Skyler said, rubbing her hand on her pants.

"Yes," I said, taking a step closer to her. My nostrils flared slightly. "It was."

Skyler Felt's scent hit me. She smelled of grass and rain and something not human. Humans have a different scent, sometimes sweet, sometimes salty, and sometimes downright putrid. The scents vary, but they're distinctively human. Mingling with the scent of rainwater, Skyler Felts smelled like fur.

Skyler took a step back, trying to put some distance between us. I followed her movements. She shot a worried glance toward the door.

"Skyler," I said gently. She took another step back. "Skyler," I tried again. The blood had drained from her face in a rush of fear. She glanced at the door again, and that one gesture of fear sent a tremble of excitement through the wolf, through me.

"Skyler," I said, "don't."

Skyler moved, lithe and agile. I moved with the quickness of the wolf, blocking her way, somehow managing not to trip in the high heels.

I barred the door, watching her, anticipating her next move. Skyler sank back. Her lips curled in a hiss that revealed elongated canine teeth on both upper and lower jaw. Black markings rose to her face, decorating her brow and cheeks like some Egyptian tattoo. Her skin took on a golden shimmer.

A rumbling growl beat like angry wings against my ribs. Hunter's pupils were too large to be human, too large and oblong to be wolf. I took another step forward, driving her further into my office. I was fairly certain if June saw her, I couldn't explain the marks on her face.

"Skyler," I said, "I think there's something you forgot to mention."

She backed into the client chair, sending it wobbling and crashing to the floor as she tried to get past it.

I stopped, trying to cage my instincts. If I kept moving toward her, she was only going to keep backing up until she had no other place to go, and neither animal nor human likes being backed into a corner. I tried to breathe past the scent of fear and adrenaline.

Skyler stopped, chest rising and falling quickly and jerkily.

"What are you?" she asked, voice trembling around the edges.

I pulled the jacket of my suit down, focusing on pulling the energy of the beast back into the core of my body, focusing on my shields, the metaphysical walls that kept the beast at bay.

"I should be asking you that."

She closed her eyes, as if she too were trying to calm herself. Breathing techniques help a lot when it comes to shifting. I had absolutely no doubt that Skyler Felts was a shape-shifter. I just didn't know what flavor.

It dawned on me. I'd seen those oblong pupils only once in my life, when I was in elementary school and had gone on a field trip with my science class to the zoo.

"You're a clouded leopard." I stared at her.

There was still that hint of panic in her when she nodded. "Yeah...you?"

"You don't know what I am?"

She inclined, sniffing the air between us. "You're not a cat," she said, snarling slightly.

"No, I'm not."

Her nostrils flared. "Canine?"

When I nodded she took a timid step forward, watching me warily.

"I won't attack you. You can calm down."

"Why did you block the door?"

"I don't need you running out of my office like that, and since you weren't up front with me, I doubt you want the rest of my office to know."

A blush tinted the skin of her face around the black markings. "I didn't know you weren't human or I would've been up front with you."

I moved, picking up the chair and setting it upright. Skyler scrambled to the other side of the room.

"Why are you afraid of me?" I asked.

"You smell dangerous."

"How do I smell dangerous?"

"Instincts? I don't know," she said. "When you moved to block the door you triggered all my instinctual responses. Those responses told me to run."

"I'm not going to hurt you." I offered my wrist. "Here," I said, "smell."

She knew I was canine, but she had yet to determine what type of lycanthropy I carried. She came to me and held my wrist lightly in both her hands. She glanced at me before sniffing just above the skin. Her mouth opened as her top lip curled slightly. She drew my scent in, like a cat would when having the flehmen response to a smell. On a human face, even with the dusting of gold and the black markings, it looked strange.

"Wolf?" she closed her mouth.

"It's really hard not to be insulted when felines do that."

"Do what?" she asked, leaning back against my desk.

"Flehmening," I said. "The feline stink face like you've just smelled something incredibly nasty."

She smiled awkwardly. "It wasn't bad," she said. "But the perfume was a little overwhelming." She scrunched up her nose.

"If I don't mask my scent with perfume—"

"Others will figure out what you are?" She finished my sentence with a question.

"Exactly."

"How long have you been infected?"

"A few years."

"I was six," she said. "My babysitter."

"Your babysitter attacked you?"

"No, she didn't mean to," she said. "It was an accident. I didn't understand until later that the strand I carry...we're easily spooked."

"I hadn't noticed."

She blushed again. "I brought a stray dog into the house and she freaked. Somewhere in the midst of her freak-out, I got scratched."

"Do your parents know?"

"No," she said. "I kept it to myself. What about you?"

"I was a cop working on a case."

"Was it traumatic?"

"No, I feel much better now that she's dead."

Skyler swallowed loud enough that I heard it.

"She deserved it, Skyler. She was out of control."

The tension between her shoulders eased a little. "Okay."

"What about your girlfriend?" I asked. "Am I going to face any supernatural surprises with her?"

"No, she's human."

"A human and a were-animal?" I raised my brows. "Does she know? Is that even safe?"

There's really no such thing as "safe sex" between a human and a were-animal. The tiniest scratch during the throes of passion could potentially infect a human lover. And unfortunately, there's no morning after pill to cure the lycanthropy virus.

"She knows. We've always been very careful with each other. She's careful not to spook me or do things that bring out my inner kitty, and I'm careful not to scratch or bite her."

I nodded, picked her jacket up off the floor, and handed it to her. "I'll see what I can find, Skyler." A thought occurred to me. "Can you not smell if she's been cheating?"

She paused in putting her jacket on, letting it hang from the tips of her fingers. As a were-animal, she should've been able to smell another woman on her girlfriend.

Slowly, she shook her head. "I smell sweat, burgers, grease, perfume, but I've never smelled another woman on her, in that way. And if she's hugged someone, you know...I don't want to jump to assumptions just because someone's smell rubbed off on her. We've gotten into some nasty fights in the past over that kind of thing. I need proof this time," she said, sounding reasonable. "Karin has always come home from work and hopped in the shower as soon as she walked in the door. She's just...she's distant. I don't know if it's from working so many hours or what."

"That's understandable, Skyler."

"I'm sorry I went all scaredy-cat on you." She finished putting on her jacket.

"Well, I did go bitchy on you first." I smiled. "Don't worry about it."

Skyler stopped in the doorway and turned back. "Thank you," she said.

"No problem."

I heard her draw in a deep breath.

"We should hang out some time."

I tilted my head. "You really think that's a good idea, considering?" I didn't get the sense she was hitting on me or flirting with me, but she was a werecat, and if she spooked as easily as I'd witnessed earlier, I was thinking a werewolf was the last person she wanted to befriend.

"As friends," she said.

"I don't know, Skyler. One, you're a client. Two, we're kind of opposite ends of the totem pole when it comes to our particular abilities."

The black markings and golden shimmer had faded from her face, but her pupils dilated, threatening to swallow her irises. That one look seemed to be saying, "I desperately need a friend."

Fucking felines and their Goddess-damned pussycat eyes.

I sighed. "We'll see, okay?"

She smiled brightly, pupils magically shrinking as if she could control it.

I had a feeling she could.

"Do you do that to your girlfriend?" I asked as she turned to leave.

"Do what?"

"The pussycat eyes."

"Yeah." She smiled widely, showing teeth that were no longer elongated. "You should see me when she opens a pack of lunchmeat."

I laughed.

Skyler left my office smiling despite the reason she'd come into it.

I returned to the seat behind my desk, wondering why I chose a line of work that ensured I inevitably ended up in someone else's mess.

--------------------------

yupp here it is, the good ole third good.

Now this one may take a bit more time to convert as im usually hella busy with school, but ill try by best.

Also the cover thats on now will most likely stay unless one of yall want to make one or know someone who can, my usual person who has not only done the last two but also my own story is no longer making covers... I cant make one to save my life... so uh yeah.