Chapter 74

"I'm not too bad, Greyson," came the voice from the other side of the receiver. There was a forceful cheerfulness that Greyson took note of. Now that Natalia had put a bug in his ear, he began to pay attention to the little things. "I'm calling to ask how that meeting went," General Duncan Richards said as if to remind Greyson what was important.

"I figured as much, Sir," replied General Greyson leaning back in his office chair. Turning around to look out the window behind him he wondered what he did to get to this point. "What do you want to know?"

"Greyson, that's not how this works," snapped Richards before catching himself. "I mean, the connection with Jenny was so important to the safety and security of the United States that we cannot overlook any part of the meeting, no matter how small and inconsequential it might seem."

"Well, then, I guess the most important thing is to let you know that Jenny's death had led to a new head," replied Greyson, trying to feel out what Richards knew about what was actually going on.

"Of course I knew that there was going to be a new head. Is it Christina?" Richards asked in a harsh voice. Greyson raised a brow, surprised at how a man known for being so calm and collected could snap at such a little thing.

"No, not Christina," said Greyson as he looked out into the distance. Maybe there was something to what Natalia had said.

"Ugh, not Amanda," groaned Richards, seeming to forget that he was on the phone. "That woman is useless."

"Not Amanda either," assured Greyson a smile starting to form on his face. Maybe, just maybe he could get him and his men out of this particular situation. As plans flew through his head he said, "The woman's name is Natalia."

"Natalia? Never heard of her," sneered General Richards, the sound of a finger rhythmically tapping on a desk filtered through the phone.

"Hmmm," said Greyson, not really giving anything to his superior. "But apparently she is on good terms with Victor Singer," he said, laying the first bit of bait for his trap. Taking out the card that Viktor had given him, he studied it.

"No!" growled Richards, clearly not impressed with that bit of information. "That is not good."

"Why not, Sir?" asked Greyson, his eyes narrowing. Apparently, Natalia and Mr. Singer were right, his boss knew a lot more than he had let on. And that could only mean one thing: he really sent him out there to die.

Spinning back around, Greyson started to type on his computer. "What are you doing Greyson," growled the General on the other end as the sound of keys typing filled the room. "You better not be doing anything stupid."

"Not at all, Sir, just responding to some emails that I missed due to the meeting out in the middle of nowhere."

"Middle of nowhere?" scoffed Richards, clearly not believing Greyson. "The house is in the middle of the city," he said, reinforcing the fact that he was not oblivious to the undercurrents.

"Do you believe in werewolves?" asked Greyson out of the blue as he sent off an email to the address given to him by Viktor.

Silence met his words… and a slow smile appeared on Greyson's face.

"Of course not," said Richards in a sneer. "Those are fairy tales and nothing more. Unless of course, you are now claiming to be Little Red Riding Hood."

"Nope, not her," came the chuckled reply. "I don't look good in red."

"Look, enough of this bullshit," growled Richards, clearly done with beating around the bush. "Is the new head going to keep Jenny's promises?"

"She said that we would know her reply by tomorrow," said Greyson not committing to anything. The fact that she promised the death of one of the politicians there today was not said out loud. They could see tomorrow where she stood.

And Greyson had a very important decision to make by the end of the day.

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Viktor left after dinner, promising to return tomorrow and I went back into my office and sat down on the chair he vacated. It still smelled like him and I took a minute to enjoy the scent, no longer surprised that even his scent made me feel safe and secure.

Closing my eyes, I curled into a ball, rested my head on the back of the chair, and took a deep breath. I could feel my monster willing to take over, to make the hard decision as to who should live or die, but at the same time, I didn't want to hide behind her. I wanted to stand equal to the monster I shared my body with, and I wanted her to know that I didn't want her to take the hard decisions because she thought I was too weak.

I knew I needed to get stronger, both physically and emotionally, but I didn't want to use her as a crutch. As much as I was no longer alone, she was not alone either.

I felt a wave of love coming from her and I smiled to myself. This was how things should be.

My eyes still closed, I called out to our powers, allowing me to see the threads of everyone and anyone that I had ever interacted with. Most were rotten, a side effect of being a police officer for so many years. Truth be told, I couldn't really tell a difference between the rotten threads simply by looking at them. Reaching out to touch one, a face appeared in my mind. I watched as his life unfurled before my eyes, from his birth to his proposed death, and I realized where I had seen him before.

He was one of the people I first caught as a homicide detective as Nadezda Sokol. He was currently in jail for the rape and murder of over 10 women and girls, the 10th was the one that helped us find him. I watched in a detached manner as he sat in his cell, his roommate talking to him at a hundred miles per hour. I could practically feel his thoughts, his desire for just one more girl, and his need to escape to make it happen.

I shuddered and dropped the thread, not wanting to look at it again. But something called to me, a feeling that I needed to keep going to truly understand what was going on. This time, I saw him as a baby, no more than a few minutes old. I watched as every decision he made shaped the thread that was in his hand, causing some to snap off as he made the other choice. I saw every crossroads that he encountered, I heard every thought that he had, every reason for picking one path rather than the other.

And I could see the two paths before him now and the consequences of either choice.

'Every person has their own destiny,' came the voice of the monster inside of me. 'But each choice that they make alters that path. Our job is not to force them, but rather to leave things up to them as long as they obey the laws of the universe.'

'And if they don't?' I asked, already knowing the answer.