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Lykos Second Skin Chapter 1 (Dog Days of Summer)

The steady, serene sound of the ocean waves washing across the O'ahu shore was timeless. As one wave crashed, another built. The sound moved just like the water, ebbing and flowing. The clear water hit the sand and turned into white foam, curving in arches and fractals as it raced across the sea kissed shore. It was beautiful during the day, which many tourists knew, but not as many knew the way the waves looked at sunrise - not like Marco Iona.

The heavens were slowly transitioning from a periwinkle grey to a brighter salmon orange. The sky changed so slowly compared to the rapid surf below. It was a beautiful contrast, casting faint rays of light across the beach, through the palms and across the figure of a young man sitting at the edge of a wooden deck, his feet slid into the cold, moist sand.

Hazel eyes peered out from a cinnamon toned face. The nineteen year old was well built. He was six foot one, two hundred and forty pounds, broad shouldered and well muscled. Marco's masculine face was framed by a somewhat bushy black beard almost three inches long at his chin. His black hair was a bit wavy, cascading across his bare shoulders. Despite the chill of the pre-morning air, he'd worn only purple floral shorts.

The cool breeze blasted across the generous dusting of black hair on his chest and arms, but Marco didn't feel cold. He'd spent a year at a college in Colorado, and if that hadn't been enough, there was the simple fact that he was a werewolf. Marco blinked a little as the sun finally broke the horizon line, lifting upwards inch by inch, painting more of the sky.

It had been a long, strange, hard summer for Marco - after a long, strange and hard year. Marco thought back to the previous Halloween when he had given CPR to a student and saved his life, but been bit in the process. That bite had turned him into what he was now, a werewolf. It seemed like an eternity ago... but as hard as it was, it had been so rewarding too.

Marco couldn't help but smile remembering how his roommate had taken it. Fletcher had been in love with the idea of werewolves for years and he'd supported Marco through those first stumbling steps. They'd even dealt with the unstable and unwise decisions of Artyom, the werewolf that Marco had saved. Yom had gone from wild card to threat to pack mate, and Marco's greatest protector.

The teenager leaned back, bracing his large hands on the deck, kicking his legs further out in the sand. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, getting his lungs full of that salty ocean smell. This was his childhood home, his memory of what it had been like to be human - though he wasn't sure it really was home anymore. That, at least, was something he could share with his last packmate - Udo.

Marco smiled again, remembering the conversation he'd shared with the little blond Goth boy on a bus into the mountains for his first full moon. Udo had been so meek and mild, and for good reason; he'd been the campus' pack's omega, the victim of their animal instincts. Marco had protected Udo and gained his loyalty. All four of them had bonded, connected by their shared secret and their budding love for one another.

A breath escaped Marco's lips before he pushed up and stood in the sand. He stretched a little, turning his head from one side to the other before he took on a yoga pose. His strong arms raised above his head, his hands together as his left leg tilted to the side, bent, and his large foot braced against his right thigh. The tree pose was one of the only poses Marco knew, but it would be enough.

The sun was still climbing across the water, but the waves were as ceaseless as ever. It felt healing in a way... and Marco still felt like he needed a bit of that. It had been almost four months since the Eclipse - the day that the world had changed forever. Marco's heart rate increased, his breathing became more rapid. There was no shaking the memory of the spirit that had used Fletcher as a puppet, reaching out from beyond the grave to try and reshape the world... and he had, in a way.

The world had seen hundreds of individuals twist and tear and warp into bloody vicious monsters. The direwolves had attacked humans en masse, killing many and biting others. They had targeted the werewolves that were vulnerable during the eclipse, trying to decimate their rival clan. They had attacked the Keepers, the humans entrusted with protecting the secret and protecting the wolves. So much death, so much suffering... but, in his own way, Marco had been the one to end it all. He wished he felt more heroic... and he wished he had heard his mother approach before she spoke.

"My big strong boy spends all of summer working for a mining company in Washington and for the three weeks he comes home, he doesn't even sleep in... I go to wake him up, and he's gone. Outside, standing in the cold, half naked." Cira's voice still held on to the Latino flair she'd had growing up, but her smile was almost as bright as the dawning sun.

"It's Hawaii... Some people can live their whole life here without wearing more than shorts." Marco grinned in turn. Cira chuckled and stepped out into the sand next to her son, taking a breath before she took on the tree pose as well. Marco smiled, his eyes moving back out to the shore.

"So, my quiet boy, how was it? I didn't think you'd want a summer job, let alone one for a mining company." Cira said. Marco considered for a moment.

"It gave me a chance to stay with my friends longer, and earn some money too. I learned a lot, though I know it's not what I want to do with my life." Marco said. All of it was the truth, though there was still so much he hadn't told his parents yet. He'd used a camping trip to shield them from the fact that he turned into a huge primal wolf beast on the full moon, but somehow it seemed like that secret would still be easier to break to them than the fact that he was not only gay, but had three dedicated boyfriends.

"Do you know what you want to do with your life?" Cira asked. Marco hadn't seen that one coming and winced a little, though he should have known better.

"I know I want to help people. I feel like there's a lot I can do in this world to make people happier." Marco said. Cira smiled at that.

"Good boy." Cira said. Marco hid a half chuckle. If his mother knew he was a werewolf, he was sure she'd double down on the dog platitudes. Marco felt something jump in his chest.

"Mom, I'm... gay. " Marco said, slowly lowering his other foot back into the sand, bringing his arms down to his sides. His mother remained in the tree pose, a smile still playing on her lips.

"I know." She replied. Marco's eyes widened, the hazel tinting just a bit golden.

"What do you mean, you know?" He asked. Cira continued looking out across the steady, constant waves.

"This house has thin walls... and the happiest I've heard you in years is when you're FaceTiming those friends of yours. I respected you keeping your secret, but I was so happy to hear you happy. Besides, you needed someone like Fletcher in your life. You need that pep and spice." Cira said. Marco looked at his mom with a mystified smile.

"What about dad?" Marco asked. Cira's smile became a bit more strained. She shrugged a bit in her pose before bringing her leg and arms back down.

"He's... more focused on work than ever, I don't know if he knows." Cira said. Marco took a breath and nodded.

"All I know is that I'm so glad that you know... It really is a new day." Marco said, feeling the light of the sunrise washing over him with golden light.

**** There was something about the smell of coffee that had no comparison. Freshly ground beans and ethically sourced blends. It was a scent that had become part of human culture, guided by its hand and brought in to daily life. It was a scent that filled the interior of the Dream Bean coffee shop, sitting near the heart of queens. The Dream Bean had brick walls dating back decades, but the rich red wood shelving, dividers and tables were a bit newer. Webs of bulb lights hung across the rafters, casting down a warm creamy glow that accentuated the decor and contrasted with the silver light spilling in through the large windows at the front of the shop.

It was almost like a window to another world, a world where life never stopped; day or night, any day of the week. Queens was always popping. People were always coming and going, filling the sidewalks and the streets and the shops. Just watching all the people go by was a past time in itself, but coupled with the right drink? It was a way of life.

Silver and gold, the light was almost at war with itself, but at least in the shop it was the warm tones that were winning, almost making the steaming cups of coffee glow with earthy goodness. One cup sat on a table, cooling down just enough to drink, lit by the glow of a laptop on the table. Pale fingers with just a few too many steel rings moved across the keyboard, entering search query after search query onto the laptop.

Caramel eyes peered through narrow rectangular black frame glasses, glancing away from the computer to watch the bronze colored liquid in the mug slowly shift with the convection currents, water and coffee and milk forming a tapestry of hue. A flash on the screen stole the young man's attention back, at least until he saw his reflection on the screen.

Rayne Fletcher didn't consider himself to be anything special when it came to looks. He was five foot eleven, his short brown hair had been kissed by just a bit of bleach at the fringes, though most of that was hidden under the beanie cap he usually wore. He had a small ring in his left nostril and small gauges in his ears. He had the look of a hipster down to an art, though today he wore a red t-shirt over a black long sleeve shirt beneath.

In a way it felt like a bit of stealth. There were thousands of hipsters in the five boroughs of New York, no one would be able to pick him out, no one would know that the tragedy of April Fourth, the Blood Moon Eclipse, had been his fault. Rayne leaned back in his seat and brought his coffee up, sipping from it, trying to soothe his nerves... but on his laptop the evidence played again and again. It was on the newspapers outside, on the television on the wall, on the phones of the other customers.

Fletcher had died. He had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, he'd been an obstacle for a lover spurned. Artyom had taken out his emotional instabilities on him, and he had died. He'd never be sure just what the Keeper had done to try and save him, but it had diverted him just enough to wind up beyond the veil, seeking the advice of spirits long departed. Rayne closed his caramel colored eyes, his fingers tightening on the mug.

He'd been so... selfish. He wanted nothing more than a second chance at life, to get back to his burgeoning relationship with Marco, that he sought out the toughest, strongest spirit and made a deal with the devil. He gave his body over to Demeas, the Dark Alpha, the leader and founder of the clan of direwolves. Every time he slept, Demeas had gotten stronger until he took over completely and used the eclipse to accomplish his goals.

Marco had stopped Demeas, but not before it was too late. Every dead human, every dead Keeper, every dead werewolf, every brand new werewolf - it all came down to the selfish choice Fletcher had made because he wanted to live. It had been that burden that had weighed him down all summer. He had flunked his finals in his Freshman year of college, and while his friends were working their summer jobs he'd done little more than try to 'heal and rest up'.

"Are you saying that we should just 'forgive and forget?!'" The heated voice startled Fletcher until he realized that someone had turned the volume on the television back up. He looked at the screen, seeing two TV show panelists talking while footage of direwolves flipping cars and tearing into crowds played on a loop.

"No, not at all! We can never forget what happened on the Blood Eclipse, but we have to be careful here. There hasn't been another incident like the attacks in April. What little we know from the depositions is that we scratched the surface of a culture, a minority that has coexisted with ours for who knows how long. We cannot punish an entire group of people based on the events of one day!" The other pundit stated. A derisive groan came from the first.

"But it isn't the events of one day. These... people... were arrested, jailed, incarcerated when they put their human guise back on. And what happened? The next full moon, those animals came back out again. How many broke out of their incarceration? How many were put down attempting to escape?" the other asked. Fletcher got back up to his feet and turned, leaving the television behind. He moved over to the counter and hunched over it, closing his eyes.

"You can't order another one until you finish your last." Came a mildly amused voice from the other side of the counter. Rayne looked back up, seeing caramel eyes and a pale face that could have almost been a mirror of his own, although the eighteen year old had spiky brown hair and a soul patch on his chin.

"That's a terrible business model. Aren't you supposed to be, like, throwing add-on sales at me? What's your muffin of the day? Do you have any CD's you're trying to sell?" Fletcher asked. His brother cracked a grin.

"What's a CD?" he asked. Fletcher's eyes narrowed.

"We're only ten months apart, don't you play that game with me." Fletcher said. Omri chuckled more before he slid over a wicker basket.

"You're right, the muffin of the day is Lemon Poppy seed, and the CD's are Celine Dion." Omri said. Fletcher shuddered.

"See, now you've done what you're supposed to for your summer job, and I can turn away in disgust at your options." Fletcher said before hesitating, "Add a muffin onto my tab." he said, snatching one before he returned to his seat, thankful that someone had changed the channel on the television. He slowly sank back down into his seat and returned his attention to the laptop.

A few months prior, he never could have imagined living without his pack. Marco, Yom and Udo were the most amazing men he'd ever met. They were selfless, brave, dedicated and loving. Despite their supernatural strengths and abilities, they remained humble, human, connected. Fletcher had felt like an outsider as the only human before he realized he had been possessed, and now? School was coming up fast and he was going to have to face it all. Fletcher reclined his head back, his arms dangling at his sides.

"Hey, did you hear the cougar was back last night?" one of the other customers asked, moving up to the counter to pay for another drink.

"I thought it was a mountain lion." Omri commented, wiping down his work space.

"Whatever it is, it ain't normal. Not for Queens." he commented.

"Maybe a lion got out from the Central Park zoo." Another chimed in.

"They don't have a lion, just a Snow Leopard." Rayne said.

"Not anymore, not after it got out." The first customer said with a chuckle.

Rayne opened his mouth but decided it was a lost cause. Everyone had big animals on the brain. If it wasn't direwolves, it was big cat sightings. He started to unwrap his muffin, sniffing at it a bit. Fletcher's eyes fluttered closed as his senses filled with the rich, robust aroma of lemon zest and poppy seed in such a rich, buttery marriage. As Fletcher lingered with the smell, the aroma of the coffee shop around him seemed to become more intense. He took in the scent of freshly ground beans, the hot steeped coffee, all the amazing blends and mixes. It was almost enough to remind him why life was worth living... but it was more than that.

To make the tragedy worth it, he had to try. He couldn't give up. For the deaths to have meaning, he had to do something, to pay it forward. That was, after all, why Marco made such a great Alpha. He would lead by example and he wouldn't rest until he did the right thing for the people that needed him. Fletcher felt a tiny flickering of hope in his heart start to fan out through his veins. His ringed fingers reached up and closed his laptop.

"Omri, make my next one to go!" Fletcher said before he grabbed his glass and tipped it back, draining the last of the coffee out of it. He had to do something to keep himself awake, he was tired of sleeping all the time.

****

A muffled churning growl came from the rubber tires of the copper colored suburban as it rolled up the long, long driveway toward the large yellow house with white trim. The garage door rumbled open to make room for the vehicle as it returned home. The lights snapped off, the engine sputtered to a stop and the doors swung open, letting some of the cool interior air escape into the sweltering garage.

A spry twenty year old moved out of the passenger side, standing an impressive six foot three. His dark brown hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail and his handsome face was dominated by an impressive beard coming down almost seven inches from his chin. His black t-shirt and blue jeans were covered with grime and he had a streak of dark soil across one cheek as he moved toward the house.

One of the back doors of the SUV opened and a much shorter, much blonder young man sprung out, a shock of blond hair falling across his face, nearly obscuring his dark blue eyes. Unlike his companion, his black polo shirt and slacks were spotless. He kicked off his dress shoes as he got to the inside door to the house.

"Yom! You didn't have to go work in the mines yourself... Your dad owns the company, you could have kept doing office stuff!" The blond boy protested. The much taller young man cut a path through the house, stopping only long enough to discard his shoes so he didn't stain the carpet, moving into the large bedroom at the far end of the house.

"I had to do something to distract myself, Udo. This is insufferable!" Artyom replied, his lips betraying that his canine teeth had elongated into fangs. His Russian accent was strongest when he was upset, though it had diminished quite a bit in the last year. Udo followed Yom to the doorway of their bedroom, watching the larger man throw open the closet and start riffling through the clothes in the hamper.

"I know, but what if something had happened?" Udo asked. Yom didn't respond right away, finding what he was searching for at the bottom. He pulled out a purple sweatshirt and brought it up to his face, taking a big, deep whiff. His green eyes fluttered shut as he smelled nothing but cinnamon, orchid and wet sandalwood - or at least those were the closest terms he could use to describe Marco's scent, the scent of his alpha, the scent of his lover. For a moment it was all he needed to feel content, but the moment passed and the bitterness came back into his heart.

"He never should have left us." Yom said. Udo sighed softly, moving in to sit on the bed.

"His parents never would have understood him spending the entire summer away. He had to give them something." Udo replied, looking over at Yom hugging the sweatshirt like some sort of security blanket.

"Then he should have taken me with him!" Yom said. Udo's blond eyebrows furrowed.

"You mean us, right?" Udo reminded his friend, "And that wouldn't have worked either. He isn't out to his parents. They wouldn't have... understood."

"Then we would have made them understand. I will make a superior husband for Marco!" Yom said. Udo chuckled softly as he lay back on the bed.

"I know you will, hopefully we all will if we can work that part out. But not everyone has a family as amazing as yours. Your parents took us all in, gave us summer jobs, helped Fletcher get back his strength. You're really lucky Artyom." Udo said. Yom hesitated for a moment, looking back at Udo. He had been the only one that hadn't gone home for at least part of the summer. He'd stayed with his pack until they split up, and then he'd stayed there in the Yashin home. Artyom moved over and sat down on the bed next to Udo, reaching over to pat the blond boy's leg.

"Only a few more weeks and we'll be back at school." Yom said, "We'll be back together and we'll get everything back on track." The comment was enough to make Udo grin brightly.

"We will. A new year, and this time we can start it off right." Udo said before he sat back up and sniffed a bit, looking at Artyom, "Although maybe you should take a shower before dinner. I don't think your mom is going to appreciate your manly aroma as much as I do." Udo said. Yom lifted his arm to take a sniff, but even getting it half way up he blushed.

"Alright, alright." He muttered, taking Marco's sweatshirt and pushing it back down to the bottom of the hamper. It still felt like an eternity before school started, he had to have a back up plan.

**** A gentle breeze filtered through the trees, dipping down into the Zen garden behind the Echo Creek history museum. The branches swayed ever so gently, but the wind had no effect on the vast sea of white stones dotted by an archipelago of round stepping stones that created a curving path across. A few rock spires jutted out of the stones like craggy islands, land marks to give the traveler a way to navigate. The sea of stones was bordered by miniature Japanese maple trees, their red leaves contrasting the greens and whites of the rest of the garden.

It was a perfect place to meditate - even for someone that was not an expert in that particular skill. Situated on one of the larger stepping stones, a twenty one year old sat cross legged, his eyes shut. It had taken a bit of effort to get his tall and lanky frame into the proper position, but he had been giving the effort his very best. The young man's milk chocolate skin had been warmed by the sun and his shaved head glistened with a bit of sweat.

After the events leading up to the eclipse, Ethan was almost afraid to be with his own thoughts. He'd fallen into a dark place, and he had let Demeas convince him to do terrible things at the mere idea that his dead brother could be brought back to life. He'd helped to open the portal to the other side. It had been by his hands, and he'd nearly given his life for it. He still remembered the life draining away from the forest, sapping his strength, turning the ground ashen.

Ethan felt like such a fool. He had been a Keeper; a human tasked with keeping the secret of the werewolves, protecting them from hunters and humans and direwolves. He had magic as a tool, even the ability to use neuromancy. Now he could barely get out of his own head, but that's just what he had to do if there was any hope of redeeming himself.

With a soft breath to re-center himself, Ethan focused less on his own body and more on the flat, round, cool stone he was sitting on... and then it's place in the sea of stones in the Zen garden... and then the garden's place behind the History Museum. He used his mind to picture where the Museum was at the far end of Second street, then how that street connected to Main street, how that street stretched through all of Echo Creek, Colorado and out to the campus of Grand Mesa University.

Ethan's mental journey took him through campus, past the academic buildings and the dorms, along the creek, past the quad and into the wilderness. Ethan stopped having to concentrate so much, merely being as he pictured the trees, the wilderness, the life and the land. Time stopped being such a constant construct and he could feel the timelessness of everything, he could start to let go of his baggage, he could -

A spray of white stones kicked up into the air as large paws landed roughly into them, revealing the flattened earth beneath. The ivory claws led up to coppery fur and muscled legs before two huge front paws came crashing down. Three hundred pounds of wolf landed roughly before the creature bounded forward again, shooting past Ethan with such speed that it nearly rolled over, but a scrambling mess of paws caught enough grip at the cement edge of the garden to redirect.

Ethan's eyes snapped open, turning from orange to brown after a moment. He followed the movement of the red wolf, his lips betraying his mix of frustration and bemusement. The reason the big red wolf had been running became obvious as Ethan looked up to the open air skybridge that connected two parts of the museum. Another man in his mid twenties stood, his dirty brownish blond hair tied back into a messy ponytail, silver earrings glinting from his ears. He had raised a crossbow and fired, of all things, little cardboard arrows that had forced the wolf to dodge.

"Auel! I was trying to meditate!" Ethan shouted up. The former hunter smiled gently.

"I know... I was hoping you'd be able to do it despite distraction." he said. Ethan's eyebrow arched.

"And what clever excuse do you have for riling Silas up like that?" Ethan asked.

"Well, Ren wanted him to get more control over his Primal form." Auel replied. Ethan looked back to the fluffy red wolf that had collapsed in the middle of the stones, kicking them up everywhere as he panted. Slowly the red fur began to diminish and disipate, pulling back as his muscles contracted and his body shrank.

Fur disappeared, revealing tanned, freckled skin. Paw pads sunk into hands and feet, though the claws remained. The creature's muzzle popped and snapped as it contracted, pulling back inch by inch. The wet, large nose became more human. Gleaming golden yellow eyes looked around the garden, a big wet tongue hanging out of the werewolf's lips as they took on human proportions again.

From the mass of fur and muscle, a nineteen year old boy appeared. He still had the gleaming golden eyes of a werewolf and thick, unruly mutton chops for sideburns. His claws didn't seem to want to retract, and his ears still had points to them. It was this quality that Silas had been unable to shake. His transformation had been a rough one, nearly losing himself to the life of a direwolf.

"One of us, one of them, or not at all." came a more feminine voice from the doorway of the museum. Ethan, Auel and Silas all straightened up, turning their attention to the woman stepping out from the building. Honey brown eyes surveyed the young men, the woman's black hair immaculately put up and pinned into place with enamel painted wood sticks covered with golden dragons. A black painted nail pointed up to Auel and then beckoned that he come down.

The former hunter set his crossbow to the side and moved over to the end of the sky bridge. He grabbed onto the railing and slipped over the edge. He hung there for a moment before dropping down, landing carefully before he stood up straight and put his hands behind his back. The woman continued to advance, her black dress with pink cherry blossoms bringing a pop of color to the garden.

"Good morning Ren." Ethan said. Ren smiled and bowed her head to Ethan before she looked to the others.

"One of us, one of them, or not at all. What does it mean?" She asked.

"If someone is bitten, they become a werewolf, a direwolf, or... they die. The three outcomes of lycanthropy." Silas replied, reaching up to claw at his left ear.

"Correct, and yet... incomplete." Ren replied. Ethan contemplated for a moment.

"It also applies to those that interact with the wolves. Keepers, Hunters, and the unaware." Ethan said. Ren nodded more vigorously at that.

"Yes, yes, good." Ren said, stepping out across the stepping stones into the garden, "Five months ago, you did not know each other. Four months ago, you were pitted against one another. Three months ago, you came here. You're working together, you're learning from one another, you're coming to a new place."

"I... can never thank you enough." Ethan said softly. Ren shook her head.

"I do not need thanks." She replied, her Japanese accent leaking through, "I live to serve, and I am so delighted that you have been taking my lessons to heart."

"I still don't know if I'll get a hang of this whole magic thing." Auel commented, blushing a bit in embarrassment. Ren looked over almost like a mother, though her edge was a bit sharper.

"The magic is a tool, just like your devices. The true skill is that you were able to open your eyes to the larger picture." Ren said. Auel shifted a bit.

"After Rising Sun attacked the wolves nation wide, I was... uncertain. I had done my best only to hunt wolves that attacked people, that hurt people. I had no idea there were so many out there. Then during the eclipse, seeing what the Fang Clan did to all those people..." Auel trailed off.

"The world knows of the Fang Clan, the Direwolves. They have seen the monsters unable to control their urges, but the secret of the Claw Clan, the werewolves... may not be long for this Earth. We cannot afford humanity to lump them all in together." Ren said. Ethan looked up.

"Will the Keepers take action? Will they share the secret with the world?" he asked. Ren didn't answer for a moment.

"I do not know... All I do know is that we must keep living our lives as best we can. Ethan, Silas, have you registered for your classes?" Ren asked. Silas' jaw dropped and he froze, having been chewing on his claws.

"Are you serious?" he asked, "I can't even get my ears to go back to normal, let alone my claws... I can't pass for human! It's taken me all summer to get this far!"

"Necessity is the mother of all innovation, and I have confidence in the weeks that remain that we can get you closer." Ren said, "Ethan?"

"I... uh, wasn't sure if I should go back. I hurt a lot of people there." Ethan said. Ren made a clicking noise with her teeth.

"Auel, what about you? Did you ever graduate from college?" She asked. Auel blushed furiously.

"I have an associates, I know my way around a machine shop, but I had just been working in a garage for my day job." Auel said.

"Then it's settled. After lunch we will make sure you're all enrolled." Ren said. The boys started to talk over one another but Ren pivoted on her heel, her eyebrow arching. All three young men fell into silence at once. Ren smiled at that and began walking back into the building. As she reached the doorway she held up a hand, "And don't come back inside until the garden is cleaned up!" She added. Silas' shoulders slumped and Ethan started to laugh.

**** Crisp, cool water flowed out of a narrow seam at the top of the textured glass panel, spilling over the edges, coating the clear material in an ever changing transparent layer. The panel was one of four obelisk like fountains rising up from shallow, recessed pools running the length of the long foyer. On either side of the pools, the floor was crafted out of immense obsidian black tiles. Modest planters held small trees every few feet, and steel benches had been placed more as counter balances than for any utility. Even the air held a faint chill to it, a bitter contrast to the weather outside.

Beyond the thick glass walls and the honeycomb of steel hexagons covering the exterior of the building was Houston Texas. The temperatures had broken a hundred degrees a few times in the week already, and it was slated to be another scorcher. The sun seemed unrelenting, but even its rays could not penetrate the shell of the Futurza headquarters, not any more than its occupants intended.

The front door opened for an instant, the climate controlled air trying to rush out, but the door slipped back shut and equilibrium was maintained. A figure hesitated, taking a moment to adjust to the change in temperature. Her reddish blond hair was worked into an artful bun, contrasting her black blazer and skirt. A pale blue blouse peeked out from her collar, the periwinkle shade that Futurza preferred.

With no more hesitation, the woman began walking the length of the foyer, her heels tapping on the wide, black tiles. Black, blue and steel. The foyer, her wardrobe, her mentality. She passed the fountains and reached the far wall, raising her finger to a panel on the side of the elevators. The panel illuminated, subjecting the exposed flesh to a battery of tests. A tiny screen flashed her credentials, Naomi Bennet. Her biometrics had been approved. The elevator doors chirped and opened, allowing the woman entry.

She stepped in and turned, pressing the button for her destination. As the doors slowly slid shut, she looked out at the foyer once more, thinking how much it reminded her of the story her grandfather had told her about the moonlit pond. She chased the memories out of her mind in favor of the day's agenda. The elevator began its ascent, speeding up several floors past laboratories, offices, cubicles, machine shops and the countless other ephemera that made up Futurza Incorporated.

Another chirp sounded as the elevator doors opened onto another obsidian black hallway, this time bordered with thick walls of glass segmenting off different conference rooms. The woman resuming her walk, her heels punctuating each stride like the beats of a metronome. She glanced at her stainless steel watch as she reached for the door and opened it up with ease.

"Alright ladies and gentlemen, today is the day to show my faith in you was well deserved." She announced, moving to take her seat at the head of the table. The other workers around the table shifted and shimmied, adjusting papers and tablets, all trying to organize their own thoughts. A young man with circular glasses looked up, his neatly groomed brown hair barely shifting.

"We've implemented the changes to the first release you wanted, and we're on standby for full saturation with five carriers nationwide." He stated. Naomi smiled and brought her fingers together, looking at the young man.

"Wow me." she said. He nodded and tapped a control on the desk. The glass wall leading into the hall turned more opaque and the lights above dimmed as a screen snapped on opposite Naomi. Images began fading in from a white light, images of the chaos and discord that had spread across the world during the lunar eclipse in April.

"We live in uncertain times..." the narrator began. The voice was deep, respectable, comforting. The images continued to play, showing the destruction and damage as direwolves ripped through the streets, "And it seems like world events are changing faster than ever... but we at Futurza are committed to finding the answers to the new questions of our age." the narrator continued. The images shifted from the chaos to footage of scientific experimentation and of people helping people, "Let us not live by emotion. Let us lead with science. In an enlightened age, all will prosper." The peaceful images faded back out to white as a rich, blue Futurza logo hovered on the screen for a moment before everything faded to black. The room was silent, all eyes on Naomi. She held her fingers together for only a few beats.

"Perfect. I want it on by tonight." Naomi said. The young man nodded eagerly, working on his tablet to confirm the version was ready for broadcast nation wide.

"We've finished the stage two advertisements as well, with some different variables to give you plenty of choices." Another worker said, this one a woman with short braids. Naomi gave a nod and she pressed a button.

The screen again started with white light, but slowly faded in to a white room with a beige bench. There was a young man wearing a grey t-shirt and blue jeans, his skin kissed with a healthy tan and his hair a dark brown, almost black, slicked into a slight crest that ran along his head. He glanced up to the camera with a soft, subtle smile.

"My name's Sam. I'm twenty-three, a Sagittarius, I like to snowboard... and I'm a werewolf." he admitted. Naomi continued to watch the video, studying his every facial tick and movement. The young man continued, "I didn't even really know what that meant at first. I was bitten during the eclipse, and my whole life changed. It could have been really scary, but I didn't have to go through it alone." the young man said.

"Not quite right." Naomi commented, "It won't appeal to a wide enough demographic. Show me version two." she asked. The worker scrambled, punching in a series of commands into her tablet. On the screen, Sam flickered and was replaced by a woman in almost the same gray t-shirt and blue jeans, her skin with the same healthy tan, the dark brown hair coming down to her shoulders in a well groomed, lustrous wave.

"My name's Sam. I'm twenty-three, a Sagittarius, I like to snowboard... and I'm a werewolf." she admitted with the same candor her predecessor had, "I didn't even really know what that meant at first. I was bitten during the eclipse, and my whole life changed. It could have been really scary, but I didn't have to go through it alone. I went to Futurza, and together we're finding answers. You can find them to. You don't have to be alone." the woman said before the image dissolved again, replaced by the Futurza logo and a web address.

"Change it to a Pisces, and change her eye color to blue. Dark blue, to counter her hair." Naomi considered, "Run it by the focus groups on level three and send me the results." Naomi replied.

The woman began to frantically take notes, writing it all down. Naomi took a breath as the wall turned clear and the light came back into the room. She drummed her fingers on the table before she turned to the only other person in the room that had not seemed at all nervous upon her entry. Standing in the corner was a thirty-year-old man. He had pronounced cheekbones, his light brown hair shaved incredibly short. His eyes had been impassive during the meeting, though his muscled arms had been at the ready. Naomi stood up from her chair.

"Chad, with me." She said, leaving the conference room behind. The man pivoted and followed after her, his grey suit almost seeming too tight on his muscled, formidable frame. He towered over the other workers, but that was another benefit to his position as Naomi's assistant and protector. The conference room door had barely shut by the time Naomi reached the elevator and entered her biometric print again.

"I think the changes were good." Chad said, out of earshot of the others. Naomi gave a short, cut off chuckle.

"The first one was too much like some sort of dating site. Girls would have liked him, even a few boys, but not enough... We need to catch more people's attention." Naomi said, stepping into the elevator. Chad followed, though the ride was a short one, rising up only one floor more. The doors opened onto a huge office with three walls of glass covered with the same steel honeycomb the rest of the building was covered in.

Naomi kicked off her high heels and lowered down onto the balls of her feet, stretching her neck a little. Chad stepped out of the elevator, standing to the side, watching Naomi make her way to her desk and settle down in her chair. He'd worked with her for years now, and he was very familiar with her moods, her idiosyncrasies. He said nothing, giving her that moment to crystallize her thoughts into the statement she wanted to make.

"We're so close." Naomi said softly, looking out of the window across Houston, "And we've tried so hard to get it right. But it's such a gamble, and there are no second chances." she commented. Chad looked over to his boss.

"I'm not sure if your grandfather would agree." he said. Naomi's eyebrow arched at the audacity but then a smile played across her lips.

"You're only half right. He didn't get his second chance. I AM the second chance." she replied, looking to a picture on her desk of four generals from World War Two. The picture was aged, faintly yellowed, but lovingly protected from the ravages of time. It had moved with her across the world. She looked back up at Chad, "Have the payments come in for Rising Sun's most recent shipment?"

"All but two have cleared the subsidiary holding company." Chad replied, "The payment for the stun darts and the sonic inducers is still pending." Chad replied. Naomi drummed her fingers on her desk, leaning her chair back.

"They want the toys but they drag their heels on payment. Those crazy hunters just don't seem to understand. If they want to see new technology, they have to continue their funding. We aren't running a charity here." Naomi replied, reaching up to undo her hair.

"Oolong tea?" He asked. Naomi looked up with a smile.

"I only drink oolong when I'm planning an all-nighter." Naomi said. Chad nodded.

"And you only get this comfortable in your office when you don't plan on leaving. Hence the tea." Chad said. Naomi shook her head slowly.

"What would I do without you?" She asked. Chad smiled, moving to the kitchenette at the far end of the office.