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Chapter 6 - Chapter 5

Work at the site was progressing quickly: the structure that had survived the fire had been secured, and the debris had been completely cleared away. Michael cast a final glance at the men on the scaffolding before turning back to his car.

Once home, he inserted the camera's memory card into his computer and downloaded the photos. After archiving them, he attached them to an email and sent it to Roger, updating him on the progress. Then he went through the rest of his inbox, opening design files and images. He replied to messages and double-checked the blueprints he was supposed to take to the site the following day.

It was late afternoon when he finally closed his laptop and got up from his chair. He stretched his arms above his head and massaged his lower back. Walking to the window, he watched the cars passing by on the street below. Then his eyes wandered around the empty, silent house, dim in the fading light. His footsteps echoed against the walls as he made his way to the kitchen. He opened the fridge—where, like a lonely totem, stood a single carton of fruit juice. He poured himself a glass and drank it down as he dialed a number on his phone.

"Dinner out?"

"I think you really need a woman," Andy said after they'd taken their seats at the table.

"Can't stand me already?" Michael replied, picking up the menu.

Andy laughed. "Not at all, man! You just seem a bit down lately… Or is it because you left someone behind in London?"

"Sorry to disappoint you, but there's no one in London."

"Don't tell me you've turned into a lone wolf."

"Let's not go overboard. Let's just say work takes up most of my time right now."

"Oh my God. And here I thought Christopher was the workaholic in the family! But he managed to get himself a girlfriend!"

"Sabrina…"

"You've met her?"

Michael shook his head. "No, but Chris told me about her."

Andy let out a big sigh of relief. "So you two have been in touch."

"Not since I arrived in Oldgrove."

"Did you tell him you were coming?"

Michael shook his head again.

"You know he knows, though."

Michael nodded. "I'll call him."

"But you're not going to see him."

"I don't know yet."

Andy nodded, giving him space to either go on or drop the topic.

When Michael had accepted the job, he'd known full well that he wouldn't go unnoticed—and that his family would find out. But he also knew that sooner or later, their paths would cross again. If it wasn't now, it would happen eventually.

The hardest part had been coming back to Oldgrove. He hadn't set foot there since Evelyn's death.

But time had blurred even the sharpest memories. The city, in its stillness, seemed suspended out of time—and even what had happened eight years earlier now felt like it belonged to a different life, a different self, as if the world he once lived in had belonged to another era.

"Tell me about this Sabrina," he said after a moment.

"You'll meet her."

Michael raised an eyebrow. "That bad, huh?"

Andy shrugged and took a long sip of wine. When he set the glass down on the white tablecloth, he saw Michael was still waiting for an answer. "Okay. She's beautiful."

"And...?"

"And so stiff and perfect she reminds me of your mother."

"Shit."

"Yeah. I honestly don't know how your brother puts up with her."

Michael shrugged. "Maybe she has other qualities."

"Oh, I really hope so—for his sake."

"Any news on that pup from yesterday?"

Andy shook his head. "Raeg and the others couldn't find him."

"That's odd."

"Yeah. Someone helped him."

"His maker?"

Andy shrugged again.

"Have you told Christopher?"

"No. I figured you might want a bit more time."

"Thanks."

"No problem, man."

---

After dinner, they headed to the Flag and Lamb. The pub had dark wooden walls like the floor and high-backed benches pressed against them. To the right of the entrance, on a small stage, a band was playing U2 covers. Andy and Michael grabbed the only free table at the back of the room and ordered two beers.

"Hi, mind if we join you?"

Two attractive women had appeared by their table. One was tall and slender, with dark hair and a short, tight dress that showed off her flawless figure. The other had long red hair, a face dusted with freckles, a low-cut emerald green top, and skinny jeans that hugged her long legs. Without waiting for a response, they grabbed a couple of stools from the next table and sat down.

"I'm Cler, and this is Sandy," the brunette said.

"Andy and Michael," Andy replied, introducing them both.

They were werewolves—Michael could smell it. The floral perfume they wore didn't fool his senses; the feral scent beneath was unmistakable.

"What brings you to Oldgrove?" Andy asked.

The movement of wolves across different territories was no longer as restricted or monitored as it had been in the previous century. Werewolves had integrated into human society, traveling for work or even just for leisure. Still, for Andy—a beta responsible for keeping an eye on a big city like Oldgrove—every new wolf was a potential source of trouble. Although, female wolves were generally a welcome addition to most packs.

"We moved here for work," Cler replied. "We're business scouts," she added with a smile. "Our client is interested in making some contacts here."

Andy nodded. "And who's your client?"

Cler smiled wider. "Sorry, that's confidential."

Andy returned the smile, studying her. "Business scout" definitely seemed to suit her. Bold and confident, she didn't look like someone who had trouble winning over clients—probably in more ways than one.

"What'll you have?" he asked, seeing the waitress approaching.

"A caipiroska," Cler said.

"A mojito," Sandy chimed in, throwing Michael a teasing glance.

---

It was past one when they were finally kicked out of the pub. The girls put on their coats and headed for the exit, followed by the two men. Outside, Sandy leaned in close to Michael, kissed him on the cheek, and whispered in his ear, "Call me," slipping a note into his hand. She gave him one last sultry look before walking off with her friend.

"Well, look at you," Andy said, clapping him on the back. "You've made quite the impression."

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