Spark of Chaos

I padded across the bare wooden boards and pulled open the front door just enough for me to see out, since I was only wearing knickers and an oversized t-shirt that I had slept in. I blinked blearily at the radiant smile of Tilly and stifled a groan.

It was way too early for this.

"You feeling any better?"

Her tone was friendly, even kind, and I knew it would be impolite to tell her to bugger off and leave me be. I wasn't exactly in the mood for casual chatter with a neighbour and I'd had barely two hours sleep after arriving back in the early hours.

Still… I didn't want to arouse suspicion.

"I'm okay. Just a bit of a dicky stomach. Something I ate."

"Ah, chick, that sucks. Look, if you need anything I've just been to the shops, so I'm stocked up with the essentials."

"Oh…" The local corner shop wasn't far from Kennys house. She'd have had to pass his road to get there. I pulled open the door. "You wanna come in for coffee?"

"I'd love a cup."

I stifled a yawn and closed the door behind her as she headed straight for the kitchenette. I waved her towards the kettle and headed back to my room to dress.

By the time I came back out, dressed in my favourite ripped jeans and a pink striped crop top, Tilly had a steaming mug of coffee in her hand and one on the counter for me. The aroma of coffee filled the small flat, and even though it was just instant, it still lifted my mood enough that I smiled as I lifted the mug and inhaled that rich aroma.

"God, I needed this."

"You're still looking a bit pale," Tilly agreed, sipping her drink. "Did you get any sleep last night?"

"About an hour," I admitted, though for different reasons than she thought.

"You missed a good band." Tilly guided me towards the sofa, and we sat, her lifting her legs to curl them under her so she could sit facing me.

"Sorry I ditched you."

"Nah, it's fine. I know enough of the regulars that I had plenty of people to talk to."

I managed an impish smile as I said, "Oh, aye. Anyone in particular?"

"Behave!" She laughed with me, and I settled back in my seat, feeling some of the tension leaving my shoulders.

We chatted amiably about little things for a while as we sipped at our drinks. Tilly was funny and kind, with a radiant personality and a love for gossip about the comings and goings of the people in the area.

It wasn't long before she was telling me about the scandalous things she had noticed on her way to the shops. Apparently, it being an activity that she enjoyed mainly because it gave her the chance to have a nosey on her neighbours as she made the short walk.

"So, anyway," she said, finishing her drink. "Mr. Bradley was coming out of Maria Harris' house. When he saw me, he said he was stopping in to check on her boiler, but you know it was something else."

"Maybe he was just checking her boiler."

"At eight in the morning! You're having a laugh. He spent the night!"

She sounded so scandalised yet delighted at the same time that I couldn't help smiling with her.

"Anyway, after he scurried home to Mrs. Bradley, I saw a couple of guys coming out of one of those derelict houses, over on Ennerdale Avenue."

I tried not to seem too interested but even so, I leaned in, voice trembling a little as I asked, "Derelict houses?"

"Might as well be," she scoffed. "Druggies and wasters are the only ones that live in em."

Had to be Kenny's house. I was sure of that.

"What's so strange about that?"

"Well-"

She cut off as my phone started ringing and I jerked up guiltily though I couldn't say why. I smiled apologetically to Tilly and reached over to grab the phone.

"Hello?"

"Emma."

"Oh, hi, Jack." 'My boss' I mouthed to Tilly who nodded and settled in comfortably to wait. "What's up?"

"Need you to come in."

"On a Saturday?"

"That a problem?"

"No." Pretty sure it was that last thing I needed. "Any reason why?"

He'd already hung up and I sighed as I rolled my eyes and looked at apologetically at my friend. "Sorry, called in to work."

"Where is you work again?"

"Some backstreet office just off the town centre."

"Any chance of a lift into town?"

Hell no! That was all I needed. I had no idea how clean my car was.

"Sure," I said, smiling nervously. "Let me just get my coat and purse."

"Meet you outside."

As Tilly left the panic hit. Why was I being called in on a Saturday? I'd only been there for a day so far so I had no idea if it was normal or not, but coming right after what had happened last night, I couldn't stop the paranoia from eating away at me.

I pulled on my boots and checked my purse. It had my passport and drivers' licence, my bank book and wallet, along with the last cash I had and the small folding blade I carried. Hardly enough for me to run with, but if I needed to, I had the basics.

True to her word Tilly was waiting and I breathed in the already warm air. It was going to be another scorcher of a day, and I didn't even need the light jacket I wore.

We walked the short distance to my car, and I unlocked and climbed in, inhaling deeply as Tilly walked around to the passenger side. The faintest aroma of the water and bleach mix I had used to wipe down the interior when I got back, and no tantalizing scent of rotting flesh.

Off to a good start.

I dropped Tilly off as close to the city centre as I could, and she waved goodbye as I manoeuvred back into Saturday morning traffic. Soon enough, I was parking on the street outside the office behind a battered Land Rover Jeep.

Jack's, I imagined, looking it over and noting the dried mud along its side. The perfect vehicle for a werewolf who needed to get out onto the moors when the need to change came upon him.

I climbed the stairs with some trepidation and hesitated outside the door, unsure if I should knock or not. I decided, not, since I worked there and pushed open the door, heading inside.

The office had a strong smell of coffee and there was a Styrofoam cup on my desk with a paper wrapped package beside it. Jack sat behind his desk; head bowed over a stack of papers he was reading through as he ate what looked to be his second bacon sandwich, judging by the screwed-up paper packets on his desk.

"That can't be good for your arteries," I muttered, and he looked up, flashing white teeth. I inclined my head towards the sandwich on my desk. "Thanks for this but I'm a vegetarian."

"Figured," he said in that deep rumbling baritone. "Got you a toasted t-cake."

A pleasant surprise. I studied him for a moment and grunted softly. He was more considerate than the scruffy, homeless person vibe he gave off would have suggested.

I took a seat at my desk and unwrapped the t-cake. Toasted well and slathered with butter. Not at all unwelcome after the night I'd had. I took a large bite and asked around a mouthful, "So, why we here?"

"Client coming in," Jack said, not looking up. "Done some work with them before. Dodgy lot, so you keep your head down but take notes."

"What do you mean 'dodgy?'" I asked, brow furrowing.

"Not human."

"You get a lot of supernatural business?" I took another bite, chewing slower this time and savouring the taste.

"Sixty or seventy percent," he admitted. "Lot of weird shit happens in this town."

No kidding.

I sipped the coffee and grimaced. Far too sweet, but better than nothing.

"If you're gonna work here," Jack said, pausing in his work to look over at me. "You're gonna have to get used to some of our clients."

"How'd you mean?"

"I do work for the covens."

Which I knew.

"Well, I also do work for the ordinary folk just wanting to live their lives when they're getting screwed over by the covens, or by the less… friendly members of our own community."

I slowed my chewing, not liking the sound of that.

"Anyway, there's a bunch of half-demons that think they're gangsters," he said as the taste of my sandwich turned to ashes. "Part of my work for the covens is making sure no one breaks the rules. If I do work for the gangster wannabes, I can do that."

"W-what kind of work do you do?"

Jack smiled, not unkindly. "Nothing too dodgy, lass. Don't worry. You won't be robbing banks or burying bodies anytime soon."

"Oh." I smiled weakly, my stomach churning as I set down my t-cake. No longer feeling like eating.

How wrong he was.

"Most of their money comes from dealing 'E' to the ravers, and maybe a bit of 'H' to the hardcore druggies. I do background checks and keep an eye out for anything that might get them noticed by the police or the covens. Nothing too big, you know?"

I nodded. Not like he had much choice. The cardinal rule for the supernatural community was to not get noticed. The covens were the main power in our world and if the humans found out about us, it would expose them too.

Since they were run like a cross between big business and the mob, using their witchcraft to gain wealth and power beyond anything most people could imagine; they really didn't want to be exposed.

In fact, the last time they had been exposed it had led to the witch trials and too many of their kind being burned along with a bunch of innocent women. The coven's memory was long, and they weren't strong enough to take on the humans in an open confrontation, even now.

So, they maintained the peace. They kept the worst of our community under control with fire and fury if needed.

 Which it often was.

"Ah, so it's like, background stuff you're doing today, right?"

"Nah, got a call from the big boss himself. Urgent, he needed to speak to me, so here I am and here you are." He glanced up, brow furrowing. "It'll be okay, you don't need to worry."

Showed what he knew.

I forced myself to finish the last of the T-cake and too sweet coffee and cleared the rubbish away silently. Once done, I pulled out a writing pad and pen and waited.

It wasn't a long wait.

There was a single rap of knuckles on the door as warning before it was pushed open and three men walked in.

The first was old, in his sixties, and wearing an expensive tailor-made suit. Gold Rolex on his wrist, and heavy gold rings on his fingers. His thinning hair was slicked back and gleamed in the light coming in through the open window.

Behind him were what I guessed to be his bodyguards. Large men, physically fit and imposing. The closest to me wore a beard and dark sunglasses. His tan too even to be natural, and the edge of a tattoo visible on his wrist, poking out from beneath the cuff of his shirt.

A thug trying to look professional.

Next to him was the barrel-chested man I had seen enter Kenny's last night, and my heart sank. There was something about him that set my teeth on edge and raised my hackles. A primitive part of my brain screaming 'danger, danger' and there was nothing of human emotion in those dark eyes of his.

He glanced at me, eyes taking in everything about me in an instant before he dismissed me as not a threat to his boss. He leant back beside the door, large arms crossed over his chest as he casually blocked the door from opening without seeming to do so.

I swallowed hard.

This was really bad.

"Marco," Jack greeted, rising from his seat and extending a hand. "What was so urgent?"

"My son's missing," Marco said. "I want you to find him."

The room was spinning, and I had to grip the edge of my desk as my stomach did somersaults. My mouth and throat suddenly dry as I began to perspire hard enough that I was sure you didn't need to be a werewolf to smell me.

It couldn't be a coincidence.

No way.

Oh fuck.