My black kitten heels clicked softly against the cobblestones as I walked to the waiting car, my work drifting behind me as I went. The feeling of freedom that the weekend brought was settling nicely. I was already so excited at the mere thought of having a warm bath, a cool glass of wine and just drifting away into a light doze with the scent of a bath bomb in the air. The week had been long, stressful, and very dramatic with one of my co-workers going into early labour while she was still at work and a minor cat fight between a few men led to two of the best employees quitting with no notice. Yes, I think a glass of wine and a heavy soak in the bath tub was exactly what I needed. And maybe a good old animated movie with a small tub of ice cream to top it off. I nearly closed my eyes in bliss at the thought, but instead gave my driver a bright smile when he held the door open for me. I hummed myself a happy tune while buckling up as he moved to get back into the driver's seat.

"Was it a good day, Ms. Davidson?" Stanley, my driver asked pleasantly. His kind eyes were surrounded in crow feet as he smiled at me in the rearview mirror.

"Friday's are always good days." I agreed, grinning back. I continued to smile to myself when I pulled my short caramel coloured hair into a rather silly looking bun.

Stanley had been my driver for the past two years. It almost seemed like fate brought us together, on the night that I decided that I was successful enough to have my own driver he was the cab driver who returned the expensive watch I had accidentally lost on the backseat. I had hired him on the spot, taking us both by surprise, but I never regretted it for a moment. He wasn't the youngest drive, and he certainly wasn't the most handsome as he had seen his good years before his grandkids had come along. However, he was deeply punctual, only late when something awful happened that he had no way of avoiding, he knew these streets like no other as well. I doubted there was another soul in the world that could drive me through the busy Ottawa streets as efficiently and as smoothly as he could while being as honest and lovely as he was. Plus those kind eyes soothed my soul at the end of a draining day. And when he talked about his grandkids, my heart just smiled in my chest.

"Any plans for the weekend?" he asked as he merged into traffic.

"No, thank God." I said with an exasperated sigh, melting into the soft leather, "I'm ready for a stiff drink and a long weekend of kid's movies. What about yourself?"

"Connor is just starting to walk." Stanley stated proudly, "My wife and I are going down to our son's house so we can celebrate."

The rest of my drive was filled with mindless chattered, and after a short while we pulled up to my condo. I thanked Stanley profusely and wished him a wonderful weekend before I made a bee line for my home, more than ready to start my rest and relaxation. But my enthusiasm was tampered when reached for the door handle and I realized that the door had already been open ever so slightly and there was damage to the durable metal that the door was made out of, leaving the paint scraped off and the metal severely dented. I hesitated then, thinking that there was a possibility that I had left my door open, that no one could've broken into my home, and that was enough for me to ease the door in, allowing me to see my foyer.

And my entrance was trashed. All of my shoes- from my expensive heels to my gym runners- were strewn all across the floor haphazardly. The single painting that had hung on the wall that cost thousands of dollars was tossed aside on the floor like it meant nothing and the small bench that guests used to put on their shoes had been slashed open. My coat closet had been ripped open so aggressively that clouded glass had shattered into hundreds of pieces, covering my hardwood floors. I moved to step inside, to see if my small, hidden basket of keys had been found, but thought better of it when my eyes moved to the glorious chandelier that had dish towels and toilet paper hanging from it as it swung idly. They had been here recently. Or they were still here.

I reeled backwards, stumbling out of my home while leaving the door open. After a couples steps backwards my mind seemed to engage, finally seeming to grasp the danger that could've been lurking around. That could still be lurking around.

"Stanley!" I screamed, seeing my car pull away. My voice came out frantic and unrefined. I was certain that my gray eyes looked wild and terrified. I saw a woman across the street pulled her child closer to her and hurry along down the street, but I hardly cared, thankful that Stanley stomped his foot down on the brakes at my shout. A horn blared in protest at his actions, but I darted towards the stopped vehicle and yanked open the car door again. I threw myself into the back seat without a second thought, panting like a mad woman.

"Did you forget something?" Stanley asked calmly as I slid inside, but we both knew that I had never behaved like this before.

"Drive." I ordered, haphazardly strapping the seatbelt across my body again.

"Where to, Ms. Davids-"

"Just go!" I demanded, pulling out my cell phone and dialing the emergency number.

Stanley obediently drove as I spoke with the calm and collected operator. I wanted the person on the other end of the line to be panicked and anxious with me, I wanted her to understand how upset I was that my house had been broken into and looted. I wanted her to seem at least partly human. But her voice was easy and melodic, telling me that I needed to meet police at my residence so I could go in with them after they ensured that nothing – or no one- was still lurking in the darkest corners. I refused profusely, hating her suggestion as much as I hated her robotic responses, but she was insistent and trained very well to deal with my tantrums. Eventually, I agreed, but the idea of going back to my home made me sick with nerves.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you." I said breathily, after I hung up the phone and told Stanley to turn around.

"It's alright." He said with a small, sympathetic smile, "I'm just glad you didn't stay in that house alone." There was a slight pause, but then he continued, "I'm surprised they were able to get in without anyone raising the alarm, it's a very busy street. Did it look like they took anything?" he asked.

I just scrubbed my face with my hands, smearing my mascara all over my face in the process. "I don't know. There will be a lot of damage though. The place is trashed." My heart was still pounding rapidly in my chest, I tried to take deep, even breaths but nothing seemed to help it slow down.

"It will be alright, Ms. Davidson. The police will help you sort all of this out and everything will be fine again in a few days, you'll see." He soothed. I didn't believe him in the slightest but his words calmed me down regardless.

Fifteen minutes later we were back on my street along with several police cars, all of which had their lights on, some still blaring sirens as well. Though, for a second, I had felt like a coward for calling the police, this scene made me feel better. They were taking the break in as seriously as I was as they knew that someone dangerous could still be lurking inside my home. Everyone was in uniform and I saw a few officers with guns so large they made me not want to get out of the car.

"Would you like me to stay with you?" Stanley asked softly, his expression earnest when he saw my unwillingness.

I knew it was just a kind offer to make me feel better, but I doubted that Stanley could protect me better than these police officers. Plus, it was his weekend, I refused to ruin it by forcing him to stand around with me in silence while the police did what they felt was needed. He had already helped me so much and the less people who got dragged into this the better.

"Nonsense, go home, enjoy the rest of the weekend." I encouraged, unbuckling myself and sliding out of the car, "Enjoy the visit with the grandkids."

"Only if you're sure." Stanley said, but I just waved sweetly to him, shut the car door, and turned away before the dread seeped into my features.

"Are you the owner of this home?" A man asked, startling me. It was like he had appeared out of thin air, I hadn't seen him approach or heard him walk towards me.

I scanned him over immediately, but his appearance only stunned me more. While everyone was walking around in a uniform he was wearing a hoodie with a college emblem on it, plain jeans, and runners. And his facial features seemed to fit the college student aesthetic as well, he couldn't have been older than I was. Yet, he walked with such confidence, like he owned the ground that his shoes touched. And despite his civilian clothes he was able to bypass all of the police officers standing guard outside, keeping away curious on lookers.

"Excuse me." I said sweetly, forcing a smile, "Can I ask who you are?"

"Agent Kingsley." He replied, pulling a badge out of his pocket and jutting it into my face so quickly that I couldn't actually read or see it really. However, I could see the gun that holstered by his hip, tucked just underneath his jacket. My heart clenched at the sight and I took an automatic step back in surprise. This college student should certainly not be referred to as an agent. And no one on the planet this young should have a gun.

"Uh, yes, this is my residence." I wanted to question his status, but his confidence- and his gun- seemed to validate it better than words could have.

"We are going to do a walk through together so that you can tell me what you believe is stolen. Thankfully, there was no one left in the house when we arrived, but there was a safe that was left open when police entered. It was behind a large canvas painting in the master bedroom. Was there anything in that safe of value?" he asked, his voice too casual like he did this every day. For all I knew, he did.

"Yes." I sputtered out without thinking. Anxiety swept through me when I thought of the contents of that safe and what it would mean now that it was missing. And who would be after such things.

"What was in the safe?"

"Just some precious jewelry." I lied. What had been in that safe held more value to me than any gem or strand of gold on the planet possibly could have. But the truth was not something I could spew to this stranger, to this man who worked for the government.

But the contents of the safe being stolen meant one thing.

I had been found.

****New story,  not werewolf, sorry. And I'm sorry I took Fatal Attraction down if any of you were into that, this one will be much better though, I promise and it will follow roughly the same story line I had in mind for FA. Anyway, tell me what you think and feel, you know I love reading your comments!****