37)

After cleaning up the tables everyone gathered up in the living room with me and Ami on the smaller couch facing Mr. Anderson and my Dad sitting on some chairs from the dining room. Everyone settled in on the other couch and the comfy chairs.

Mr Anderson leaned forward in his chair with his hands clasped together. “Okay Sara and Ami, this is the talk I have with people who need to be read in on the supernatural world and how I can help them. A lot of this doesn't apply to you Sara since you can pass for a normal, if gifted human being. We mainly just have to keep moving up your official birthdate.”

“With Ami...”

He paused to sigh. “Well keeping herself secret is something I would expect her to learn from her grandmother, and by way of a bad example, her aunt.”

“So this is how it goes. During the Revolutionary War, a spy organization called the Culper Ring was set up to spy on the British, and while they were watching for anything the British were up to, they noticed some other people acting in secret."

He looked over at my Grandfather and the sheriff who was sitting next on the couch, who at his look reached over to take my Grandpa's hand. "Vampires living by night, werewolves in the countryside, and other people they couldn't even put names to."

Looking back at us, he leaned back in his seat. "After the war, the Ring was supposed to have been dissolved, but instead, Washington had us focus on what he feared was an even bigger threat to our new nation. Predator living alongside their prey."

“Fortunately there were already other groups out there watching the same kind of people we were, and they had already reached an accord with the supernatural people.”

I leaned forward myself.

He spread out his hands. “For centuries they had hunted them down and killed them, only to realize that at least with werewolves, they could make more new werewolves faster than the various hunters, knights, and Wisemen could kill them. More so, the people who were best at fighting the supernatural were also the most vulnerable to being turned into them."

I nodded. “Because they were internal magicians with enhanced abilities.”

Mr Anderson grinned. “So an arrangement was made. Organizations like mine instead of hunting down everyone who was supernatural, just watched, and only made a move on those who committed crimes. And over the last hundred years all of those groups began to exchange information, sort of a supernatural Interpol.”

I started to get excited. "So the Culper Ring is still around, are they hiring?"

My Dad spoke up. “No, they don’t hire people like us.”

Mr. Anderson shook his head at my father, "Actually that was just you John."

My Dad shot him a betrayed look. “Say what now?”

Mr Anderson shrugged. “You grew up in Endora Caine’s magically hidden stronghold and worked as her personal agent, there was no way we could have hired you. Your kid, on the other hand, she grew up in a suburb. And she's Brianna Caine's granddaughter, not Endora's. People like your mother and would be inclined to trust her granddaughter. She would make a great agent."

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

I began to grin, I could be a Spy. “Do we get code names?”

The secret agent man held his hands up as if to slow me down. "Hang on, well, yes we do. Either a code name or a number. Washington's was 711. But it's more often than not we're more of a bureaucracy than a spy agency."

I gave him a look of disbelief.

“Before Washington declined a third term of office, there was a meeting between the leaders of some of the more organized supernatural people in the new country, and some representatives of what’s been called the Council, the Association, or the Society. All made up of the groups that used to hunt people like your grandfather and your family.”

"An agreement was reached, they behaved, and the Culper Ring made things easier for them to live in secret while still being American citizens.”

He held his hands out. "And that's what I'm here for, an easy job for an agent who is getting too old for fieldwork. I'm here to help out Werewolf Central with things like adding a few years to their birth certificates while still letting them collect social security with no one wondering why there are so many people over a hundred years old in the same town.”

“Also creating new paperwork for people who want to move out of town, or who want to live as a human again after taking a few decades off to live as a wolf. And anything else they might need help with.”

I took a long slow breath. “And what does the government get in return.”

He gave my Dad a look and got a nod in return. “Werewolves can sniff out vampires. They’re very existence is our deterrent to some of the wealthy and powerful people in the country.”

Then he leaned back. “And a surprising number of them are veterans, as are the members of the Culper Ring. We take care of our own."

The Sheriff spoke up then. “Every Agent before you either did things by mail, over the phone, or then over the internet. Why do we rate an in person agent now Mr. Anderson?"

He gave my dad another half grin.

“Because Endora Caine’s grandson moved here right after his mysterious unknown father bought a mansion here and everyone in town started googling his name. Because our clairvoyants began bleeding from the eyes when the wickedest witch left her home for the first time this century and folded space to do it.”

He leaned forward in his chair. “Because John Caine applied for insurance for a Martial arts Dojo as if he was planning to train people to fight right in the heart of werewolf country. And because there are whispers that the Caine family has added a new witch to their line, who is also a daughter of the Ichiban family.”

He folded his hands together with his fingers interlocked. "So yeah, they picked an agent near retirement who was known to be friendly enough with John Caine to have a beer with him and attend his wedding. And they sent him in to keep an eye on things, and told him to bring his whole family as hostages for his good intentions.”

He looked Sheriff Adora right in the eyes. “Washington himself proclaimed that all the people of the United States, human or otherwise, were people of his country. And would be treated with the same dignity and rights. So I am here with my own wife, and children to ensure that.”

Mr Anderson threw his head back to stare down his nose. “You’re the Sheriff around here, your job is to protect and serve all the people in your country. Is my family going to be safe here?”

Adora threw her head back as well. “Same deal. As long as they behave.”

My grandfather leaned forward in between the two's line of sight. "I was told there was supposed to be a desert too?"

Fruit salad wasn’t the fanciest thing in the world, and the vanilla flavored whipped cream Grandpa had brought was unnecessary. But it was still a nice treat after a discussion that had gotten a lot more heated than I had expected.

I had gone outside to sit on the swinging bench outside to eat my dessert because I wanted to think, so of course Nicole had followed me out and sat down next to me, with about half the fruit in her bowl that I did.

"I want to be an anthropologist.”

I gave her a confused look. “What?”

She sighed, and let up a little bit of an "Epp" sound as Saku scrabbled out from under the swing and began begging. “Ah, I want to learn about people like the werewolves around here and your family. The Culper Ring has watched all of you for centuries without bothering to learn anything about you.”

She held up her bowl for permission and nodded over at Saku, setting the nearly empty bowl down for my pup to lick clean when I nodded. “I want there to be more understanding between the people who are supposed to be protecting the supernaturals, and hunting them down when they go bad. I think there be a better chance of understanding and positive interaction if the Ring agent know more about the people their whole careers are built around.”

With her eyes cast down to watch my dog chase the bowl that moved away from her with each lick, Nicole smiled a little. “So I’m sorry if it felt like I was spying on you, I just want to know who you were before you knew who I was. I’m hoping you can forgive me even if we never become friends.”

Part of me wanted to crush her, not physically, but with words. To hurt her so she never tried to pull anything on me again. But my father had taught me that making enemies just left someone out in the world who had reason to hate you, and my Mom taught me to never let an enemy live.

But since I didn’t think she had done enough to be an enemy. “Alright, you’re forgiven. Once.”