Victoria:

Entering my shoebox-sized apartment, I take my shoes off. My socks are soaked enough that they make a slurping noise as I do so. Judging by the amount of discoloration and the depth of the wrinkles covering my toes, they have been that way for quite a while. Honestly, I am lucky that there are no signs of blisters or chafing. All I had to worry about was getting both them and my shoes washed and dried.

The moment I let gravity pull my pants off, it feels like ten pounds go with it. Then again, looking at how dark the bottom half of each leg is, there probably was ten pounds of water soaked into the material. God how I wish I could afford something for wet days like this. But if wishes were horses.

Stripping out of the rest of my damp clothes, I jump into the shower. The water coming out of the sprayer starts out cold and stays cold. Which meant that the damn landlord either forgot to pay for the gas bill, turned off the boiler, or it was broken. My money was on the damn thing being broken.

The guy was a cheapskate. Buying used parts or broken units and trying to fix them himself. He didn’t even let us get someone else in here to fix any of the issues. He insisted that he do all the work himself.

I rush through the shower. Getting out the moment the last sud left my skin and ran down the drain. Thankfully, the heating system is still running. Pushing hot air through the heater vents in my apartment. One of which directs the air over and through my towel. Wrapping myself up, I wander out into the kitchen to see what I might be able to salvage.

Yeah, it was just as I feared. Other than a few condiments, I had nothing to eat. While I could eat ketchup, it wouldn’t hold me over for more than a day. Let us not go over how I might know that.

Sighing in defeat, I head to bed. Plugging my phone into the taped-up charger on my nightstand and hoping that the next day might be better. Instantly passing into oblivion as my head meets the well-used, and deflated, pillow.

Sebastian:

How I hated dealing with the elders of my kind. They didn’t understand the world and didn’t care to try to do so. To them, humans were nothing but food to be allowed to breed so that they might have a meal whenever they wished. Such a mentality might have been fine in their time, but not anymore. Not since the humans started to combine tribes and form city-states. Now they had the numbers and power to threaten our kind and they don’t see it.

I have tried time and time again to get them to come out of their caves and look around but they refuse. Leaving it to me and a few others to provide them the information they want and to follow their orders. Orders that none of our group follows. Not that any of the elders know this. I mean, how would they? I sure as hell am not going to tell them.

A melodic piano tune whispers from my cellphone as I step through the portal linking the Nexus between worlds with downtown Chicago. “What do you want?” my voice comes out as a growl as I answer the phone.

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The rich voice on the other end speaks, their voice carrying with it a hint of magic. “Ah, Sebastian. I see the meeting with your elder went well.”

“Same as it ever is.” Rolling my eyes, I step from the small alcove and onto the busy sidewalk. Joining the throng of people going this way and that all while they avoid the rain. “Now, what is it you need Michael?”

Some would argue that everyone should show respect and revere the angels. I have never done so. Not since they did nothing when I asked for salvation the day I died. “Can long-time friends not call one another to check in?”

“We are not friends.” I grit out. Stopping to take a deep breath before continuing. “What would your brothers and sisters say if they heard that you were friends with something like me?”

“They would be curious about why but figure that there was some reason for it.”

“Is there one?”

“Can we not just be friends because we want to be?”

“No!” I wanted to throw the phone but knew that it would do no good. The damned archangel would just pop in and hound me in person. I did not want to deal with that. Not today. “Now get to the point. I need to head into a meeting in a minute.” While he would hear the lie, we both knew he wouldn’t call me on it.

“Pitty.” He sighed. “The Central pack alpha wants to set up a meeting.”

“And he called you to set it up?”

“If you had a way for other leaders to get a hold of you and schedule meetings he wouldn’t have had to.”

“You and I both know that is never going to happen. Not after the fiasco in Italy.” A shiver ran down my spine at the memory.

“Yeah.” His tone told me he was recalling the same memory. “I am pretty sure every one of us now knows to not let those three drink together. At least it was only one city.”

“It was a port city. They set off earthquakes that destroyed most of it and burned the parts that survived.” My voice was getting more and more curt as I spoke. “Now, what does he need to talk about and when does he want to meet?”

“He needs some financial support and wants to meet tomorrow.” Wolves and their need to try and win the numbers war on their own. They were nearly as bad as the humans. If not for the territory wars and power struggles, they would have been worse than the humans. Fortunately for everyone, especially the humans, their population growth was sluggish at times.

“Why?” I asked, answering before he could. “Oh, wait, let me guess. He needs help financing a new pack house. Maybe a new development. Or is it a town this time?”

“Are you done?”

“No.”

“Too bad. And yes, he needs help getting some financing together for a town in the middle of northern Wisconsin. Seems like the pack up there had a sudden population boom.” Of course, they did. Winter was just over nine months ago. What else were cooped-up teenagers to do when the snow shut everything down?

“Fine,” I sighed, realizing I wasn’t going to get out of this. “Have him send me all of the information tonight so I can see what I can do.” While I knew the answer, I asked anyway. “Also, since when did I become a bank for all the werewolves in the USA? They do know that the dragon clans are more than willing to give out loans.”

His laugh was something that caused my soul to ache and my slow heartbeat to speed up. “You don’t hound the wolves every day for your money. Now I got to go. One of my charges is in need of some guidance.”

As he went to hang up, I quickly added, “Oh, and stop changing your ringtone on my phone.” I doubted he heard me and even if he did, I doubted he cared.

I needed to steep myself in Chicago and the beings that lived here. Watching as the humans interacted with the supernatural without ever knowing that such things existed. It was a ritual I did whenever I returned from visiting the elders. It helped to ground me in reality. And yet here I was, unable to do just that. Instead finding myself pushed by an Archangel to return to my office and work to help another.

Now that I thought about it, why didn’t he help them? He and his brethren had been around since the dawn of time. They had to have built up quite a bit of capital in that time. Surely they had the ability to help. So either he didn’t have money or he was making me help him with his job. Man angels were assholes.