Chapter 1

"She sure is cute," Orion stated, eyeing the woman with voluptuous curves as she entered a store across the street.

"You should know better than to use the C word," Ambrose chided.

"Can't say cute, can't say hot, can't say holy fucking boner. These modern times suck," Orion pouted.

"It's called evolution," Ambrose stated, sounding pompous. His close friend of the past century liked to think himself a scholar and read all kinds of stuffy magazines and books. Orion preferred to be in the moment. And in that moment, he really admired the woman they'd been sent to observe. A week now, and he tired of simply watching.

"Evolution is us crawling from the sea. Making perfectly good words bad is just annoying," Orion grumbled under his breath. But his discontent didn't last long. "Isn't it time we introduced ourselves?"

"Most definitely not. Our goddess tasked us with watching over the human. It will be easier if we do so from afar." Their goddess being Hekate, the deity of magic. They'd been her scions ever since she took them under her wing. Best decision ever.

"Watch for what exactly?" Their instructions hadn't been clear. They'd received the mission in the form of a mental message that simply showed them an image of the woman, her location, and the instruction to protect if necessary. Nothing more.

Given they were obedient hounds, they'd hopped a plane to Montreal and located the woman in question, who lived in a tiny basement apartment with its windows barred. They'd followed her every morning for the past week as she went to her job in a tiny sandwich shop.

While Hekate had indicated the female was human, Orion had given her trail a good sniff to make sure. Sometimes their goddess didn't provide all the details when she sent them on a mission. It should be noted she didn't get involved often in Earthly or human affairs. Although, of late, they'd had back-to-back tasks. Blame the fact times were a-changing.

Old gods had woken. Battles had been fought. The arcane was becoming more prevalent everywhere you looked, except where this woman was concerned.

Name Adeline Gagnon, age thirty-nine. Single. Never married. Had two cats—an unfortunate choice since everyone knew dogs were much better. No kids. No living family that they'd found. No car, or debt. From what they could see, this woman woke up, went to work at the sandwich shop where she'd been employed for the last eighteen years, went home. Rinse, repeat.

Nothing about her drew attention, unless her bodacious bod counted. According to her driver's license record—which Ambrose acquired via the dark web—she stood five foot nine, a hundred and eighty-five pounds. She kept her dark hair in a short bob and wore thick, black-rimmed glasses but eschewed makeup. Not that she needed any. Her clear complexion accentuated her high cheekbones and full lips.

On a whim, Orion pushed up from the park bench they'd commandeered. For cover, they each had a newspaper and a coffee—large Tim Horton's paper cups that offered "Roll Up the Rim" prizes via an app. An app! Kind of defeated the whole roll-up part. It especially sucked since he lost while Ambrose won a free donut. The man didn't even like sweets.

Inactivity made Orion restless, hence why he dumped the paper and his cup into the trash and slicked back his hair.

"Where are you going?" Ambrose asked, folding his paper to fix him with a stern eye.

"I am getting myself a sandwich."

"I thought we were going to watch and not interact."

"That was your plan, and it's bor-r-ring," Orion whined. "Besides, I'm hungry, and it just so happens she makes sandwiches. I would add it's also probably a good idea to get a peek inside her place of work. Get a good sniff too, you know, in case there's some funky shit going on out of sight."

"Please. We both know you're going in to flirt with her," Ambrose accused.

"Is it flirting if it's just my natural outgoing personality?"

The reply had Ambrose rolling his eyes. "Not every woman has to be a conquest."

"Excuse me, but I do not try and seduce every female I meet."

"And yet they end up in your bed," Ambrose's dry reply.

"Not my fault they find me attractive and drop their panties begging me for some loving." A bit of an exaggeration. They didn't beg. They simply threw themselves at him, and he didn't want to be rude.

"You're a whore, Orion." Ambrose shook his head.

"And you're uptight, old friend. I can't wait for the day when you meet a woman who manages to loosen you up and leave you spinning."

"As if I'd ever match with someone chaotic."

"You know what they say. Opposites attract."

"Does this mean you're going to end up with a sweet and sensible girl who isn't impressed by your charm and expects you to take out the garbage?"

"Perish the thought. I'm never settling down." Orion declared it, mostly because he'd been saying it for the past century. He wasn't about to admit that, of late, the freewheeling lifestyle of a bachelor had finally begun to wear on him. Different faces every other night. The same vapid conversations. Pleasure quick and fleeting, forgotten the moment it was done.

He blamed his retrospect on having been in close proximity to a couple newly in love. Seeing how Marissa and Koda eyed each other, the way they'd eagerly rushed off every time they got a chance to be intimate, the secret smiles they shared… It all aroused a feeling in him that he didn't often feel.

Envy.

Weird. Probably just a passing phase.

"Want anything?" he asked Ambrose as he stood on the curb, waiting for a car to pass.

"Since you insist on going in, then yes. Ham and cheese on rye, light on the mustard—"

"Hold the pickle, no lettuce, but yes to bacon if they have some. I know." Ambrose never deviated. "You know, you should expand your horizons. Try something new."

"I could say the same about you."

"What are you talking about? I'm always up for new experiences," Orion boasted.

"Says the man who has never had a real girlfriend and cringes at the idea of monogamy."

"And deprive the world of my skills as a lover? Perish the thought," Orion declared as he crossed the street.

The sandwich shop sat between an appliance repair store and a tarot reader. The sign above the shop, a simple plank of painted wood, stated, Sandwiches Your Way. It didn't have any gimmicks or flashy lights. Probably explained the light foot traffic they'd observed this past week. These days people wanted an experience they could post on social media. The lack of business could also be because the food sucked. He'd soon find out.

A bell tinkled as he entered. The scent of cured meat and freshly baked bread filled his nostrils, along with a hint of his target's lingering perfume—his target, who didn't stand behind the counter. No one did. Not really a surprise since they never saw any other employees entering the place. Could be they did so via the alley, but the few times Orion posted himself to watch, he'd only ever seen Adeline popping out for a breath of air.

Orion stood before the glass display that held hunks of meat, ready to be sliced. The board on the wall behind listed the day's special—tuna club on a pretzel roll—along with a list of basic sandwiches. Roast beef, ham, pastrami, meatball. There was also a mix-and-match option where all the types of breads and toppings were listed for someone to build themselves an epic sandwich a la Shaggy and Scooby-Doo.

The beaded curtain leading to the back room rustled as a woman emerged. His target. Adeline Gagnon. She looked even more delicious up close.

Orion beamed her with his gazillion-watt, panty-dropping smile. "Well, hello there."

She remained smooth-featured and said, "How can I help you, sir?"

Sir. Ack. He almost grimaced. "Looking for two sandwiches. A boring ham and cheese on rye for my friend, no lettuce or pickle, easy on the mustard, with bacon, please."

She immediately began pulling out a fresh loaf of rye and sliced it. As she piled on the fixings, she asked, "And for you, sir?"

"What do you suggest, sweetheart?"

Despite the flirty term, she didn't look up or even blush. Most likely she had strange men complimenting her day in and out. But still, Orion wasn't used to women ignoring him.

"Our special of the day is a good choice."

His lips twisted. "I'll be honest, I'm more of a beef than fish kind of guy."

"Then might I suggest the roast beef au jus, on a fresh baguette, topped with sauteed mushrooms, provolone cheese, and a hint of horseradish."

"That sounds delicious."

She finished wrapping the first sandwich and began work on his, not once looking at him or engaging. Probably shy.

"So what's your favorite sandwich?" he asked.

"I don't eat bread," she remarked. "Or meat for that matter."

He blinked in surprise. "But you work in a deli shop."

"I do."

"Wouldn't you prefer to work somewhere you don't have to deal with stuff you don't like?"

She cast him a brief glance. "I don't like a lot of things. Not a reason to steer clear of them. Besides, this way it's easier to avoid temptation. I worked in an ice cream shop before this. Not a good idea since I've a weakness for cookie dough chocolate chip."

Aha, she had a sweet tooth.

Before he could draw out some more info, she presented him with the sandwiches. "That will be forty-two seventy-one."

His jaw almost dropped. "For two sandwiches?"

"Two very good sandwiches," she firmly stated.

He had the cash, but still… The pricing explained the lack of customers. He counted out forty-three dollars and handed it over. She offered him the change, which he dumped into the tip jar and added another five. Forty-eight bucks for two sandwiches. They'd better be the best he'd ever eaten.

Orion snared the paper bag she'd put them in, and before he could say another word, she disappeared into the back.

Not very social. He returned to Ambrose with the food, a bemused expression leading his friend to say, "What happened?"

"I just got fleeced. Do you know how much I paid for these?" He shook the bag. Although, one bite later, he did have to admit it was the best damned sandwich he'd ever eaten.

Pity hardly anyone entered the shop to find out. Some went in and quickly left empty-handed. A few went inside and stayed in there so long he had to wonder what was going on. The window had a glare that didn't let him see in. Those men—and only men, he noticed—eventually exited with a bag that he assumed held a sandwich.

The shop closed at six, and they trailed Adeline home. She carried only her purse and never once looked back.

Never saw the wererat trailing her.

But the hounds did.

Orion almost sighed with relief. At last, their boring job was about to get interesting.