The thick coldness swept through the night in the bright city of New York, making my breath blow out in clouds and drift away, disappearing like the stars that once glittered in the black sky above. My eyes were on my feet, on my black boots. The people around me gave me space so I could walk deeply in thought. I hid my chin and pink lips under a gray scarf that I'd bought just the other day. It kept my nose and rosy cheeks warm.
Even though huge, brilliantly lit up boards shone down on the city streets, shards and broken fragments of the night were caught at people's ankles and feet. For some reason, it gave me hope. I smiled lightly and lifted my head to look at the back of the heads in front of me. Then my gaze swept to the glass windows that stood next to me. Shiny, white models wore thick jackets with fur and knitted stocking hats that all would be sold by the hundreds of dollars.
My eyes landed on a red flannel coat caught my eye and I stopped, staring at it. As my breath fogged up the glass, my heart began to sink. "I can't get it," he murmured to myself. I let my head drop to the ground again. But it only made me look back up at it. Hey, it sure ain't easy being me. For one, I live not a double life, but a triple life. At the normal human age of 16, I'm still considered a teenager. I should be in school, but I don't want to be told everything I'm doing wrong by some know-it-all dressed in a lab coat. Second, I'm something that most of the people that are around me don't even believe exist. I'm a werewolf. And before you ask, yes, I did have a pack at one point. But I split apart from the pack when my parents started ruling my life.
And if that wasn't a hard enough task keeping a secret, I'm also a secret assassin. After I left my pack, I was running out of money. I found it an easy way to keep myself... occupied when I was bored. Heartless? Nah, I don't kill just to kill. I'm paid to kill certain people. But it's easy not to get caught when you have a shape shifting trick up your sleeve! Many people have heard about me. Hell, I've seen myself on at least twenty billboards and lit up TV's in bars and lounges that I kinda feel famous.
But I used up all my money right away on a brand new apartment, clothes, and even a collar. I reach my hand up to feel the warm leather around my neck. It's brilliant red with a dog tag that has the name 'Emma' engraved in it. My thumb rubs over it. I stare at my reflection and smile lightly. Dark brown eyes stare back at me, with fair skin and long, warm, cinnamon red hair that falls over my shoulders and blends in with my dark coat that's colored black with silver stitching. My legs are covered with tight light gray leggings and black boots. A lot of guys have tried to get close to me, but I've turned them all down, telling them I have a boyfriend already.
'But why?' My wolf asks me. I hang my head and find that she speaks the truth. It's true. I don't have a boyfriend. And I know exactly why. I've been saving my heart for my special someone. My mate. But after the three years I've lived here in New York, no one's stood out to me or my wolf. I continue walking, leaving the flannel behind and see the warm yellow lights of my apartment ahead. I rush inside and see the fireplace in the lobby flicker and quiver. The warmth numbs my fingers for a moment, then the coldness falls away and I walk to the elevator. I punch in the arrow that points toward the ceiling. I glance at the simple and modern white stone walls, seeing not many people are around me.
I unwrap my scarf and show my collar. The doors open and no one greets me. I walk into the elevator a press the glowing orange button that has the black number 2 on it. The doors shut slowly and I have time to think. I lean against the railing and close my eyes.
'I couldn't find him today,' I thought.
'That's because you aren't looking hard enough,' my wolf pouted. I shook my head.
'I'm not talking about him,' I snapped. I rolled my eyes and chuckled a little. 'But it would be nice...'
'So who were you talking about?' My wolf asked.
'The target,' I answered her, the doors opening. I didn't expect anyone in my way, so I kept my gaze on the floor and a small smile. Then I bumped into something. It was soft, but firm. A noise came from the object and I looked up, seeing the thing was a person. His eyes were brilliant blue with streaks of indigo, small splatters of freckles bridging his nose and curving around his cheeks. "Uh...," I said awkwardly, pushing him away gently. "Sorry. I didn't see you were here."
"It's ok," he said with a nervous chuckle and a kind smile.
"I was just... lost in thought," I said awkwardly.
"We all have those times, don't we?" He asked. I walked past him, keeping my eyes on him. "I guess.."
He nodded and waved as he walked into the elevator. "I like your collar, by the way," he said, running his hand through his dark brown hair. It fell over his forehead in loose curls. "See you around." I forced a smile back and waved. As the doors closed, I felt a bubble of excitement rise and make my fake smile more genuine and a little sharper.
"Well," I said quietly. "We'll just wait till he comes back." That was him. Xzavier Simpsons. My next target. I put my hands in my pockets and started down the hallway toward my room. "A little more pay for that flannel, eh?" I whispered to myself with a giggle.

***

Without a shadow of a doubt, Xzavier came back around midnight. He didn't look too well, stumbling around the place and slurring words together and all.
I'd been waiting for him. I was now in my wolf form, lying by my door, as if I was a lost dog. I lifted my head when I saw him coming my way. He wouldn't have recognized my dark brown and tan furred body, but the collar might give it away. I sat up and stared at the ground, hoping he was too drunk to even think about it.
He walked past me, digging through his pocket to find his key. At least he won't remember much, I thought.
Once he'd found the silvery key, I started after him. He didn't even know I was by him. I stayed in the shadows where he was less liable to see me and blow my cover. He messed around with the remote control to the tv for a few minutes before laying on the bed. In all honesty, I kind of felt bad for killing him. But it's what has to be done, what gives me the money to live, I thought.
I decided to wait until he was asleep and to make the death quick, clean, and painless.

***

The next morning, the sunlight coming through my window is faint and red. I sit up and rub my eyes, taking away the blur. I look over at the door and there on the floor before the door is an anonymous envelope. A sickening feeling washes over me. I can never shake this feeling that I have every time I wake up and remember what I did the day or night before. Had I done the right thing? Was this good for me?
I shake my head and get out of bed in my oversized black Panic! At The Disco t-shirt and sweatpants. I pick up the envelope and see the all too familiar letting on the front of it.

Emma Borne

I break the seal on the front and hold my breath as I take out the off white letter inside. I unfold it and read it carefully and silently.

Emma Borne,

Good job. Alpha Jack is pleased with your performance last night. But he would have been even more over joyed if you'd not taken mercy on him before he slept.
-
I feel a stab of pain at the words. You wouldn't understand, Beta, I think heavily to myself.

-
I know it's hard, but here's the money. $1,000. Just... take care of yourself. Your brother is worried, and wants to hear from you.
Happy hunting, Iota Emma!

~ Beta Sam

I crumple up the letter and take out the green paper that has ten $100. "What have I done...? Why do I do this?" I ask myself, my heart starting to ache.