Stephen Jones

KACELA

He answered on the second ring.  He sounded mildly curious, but not irritated that someone was calling him so late.  I wondered if it was a regular occurrence.

“Mr. Jones.  Kacela Thompkins returning your phone call.”

“Ah, yes, Miss Thompkins.  Thank you for getting back to me so timely.”  He was polite and there was nothing that set off any red flags for me.  “I’m sure your assistant filled you in on the situation?”

“Not really,” I said.  “I was traveling so he just texted me your name and phone number and told me that he thought we could help each other out.”  I paused, weighing my words before continuing.  “I hear you need a pack eliminated?”

“Yes,” he said.  “I’m a business owner and I. . . “

I interrupted him.  “Mr. Jones, I don’t particularly care about your reasoning.  It sounds like you think you have a problem.  I can help.”

He sounded wary.  “I really would like to explain myself, Miss Thompkins.  I don’t want you thinking I’m doing this because I get some sort of weird kick out of it or something.”

I picked up a pen and began to doodle.  “Sir, if you need to justify it to yourself, that’s fine, but find a counselor or a priest or pay some stripper to listen to your preplanned speech with your excuses.   I don’t care.  I think werewolves are vile and the world becomes exponentially better with every wolf that is erased from existence.”  I didn’t mean to sound so harsh, but I was starting to get tired.  I should have waited to call in the morning.

“I see,” he said slowly.  I didn’t think he really did.  “Do you hunt any other creature, Miss Thompkins?”

“Kacela, please.”  I said, weary of the formalities.  “You mean like vampires and witches?  No.  Just werewolves.”

“I mean Lycans,” he said.  I sat up slowly in my chair. 

“I thought the Lycan population died out thousands of years ago,” I said.  “I didn’t think that there were any members of that species surviving.” 

“What would you say if I told you there was an entire pack of them?” Stephen said.  “An entire pack that is stealing enterprise right out from under me.”  He sounded bitter.  I gave a short laugh.

“Is that what you think you have, Mr. Jones?  Lycans?  I would be willing to bet you have overgrown werewolves.  The north tends to grow them big and thick.  And that’s not a problem for me.  I’ve taken on worse.”  I let those words sink in.  “There’s no such thing as Lycans.  Not anymore.”

“Fine,” Stephen said, suddenly all business again.  “I would like to hire you to eradicate an entire pack of overgrown werewolves that don’t know one ounce of business etiquette.  What are your fees and when can you start?”

I leaned back in my chair, once again relaxed.  “I will have my assistant send over a contract tomorrow.  You can show it to your lawyers if you want.  It’s a standard contract and does not mention specifics, just refers to them as ‘pests’.   Sign it and send it back if it’s in order.  If you send it by the deadline, I’ll be there the next day.  If you choose to wait, I may take another job and yours doesn’t maintain priority.”

Jones sounded better now that we were talking business again.  “Fine,” he said.  “I’ll have my lawyers check over it and get it back to you right away if it’s acceptable.”

We exchanged the requisite pleasantries and then disconnected.  I put my phone on the charger and continued to think.  I wasn’t too sure about Stephen Jones, and I was really curious why he thought the werewolves were Lycans.

Before going to bed I powered up my laptop again and typed in LYCANS into the search box. 

I read that Lycans much like werewolves, being their descendants.  They had evolved and mutated, though, and were larger and more formidable than the werewolf.  They were bigger, faster and could heal better more quickly a werewolf.  The saliva and blood of a Lycan contains healing powers which enables them to help heal others. 

I was fascinated and kept reading.  One of the major differences is that a Lycan keeps their human personalities when shifted and tend to work with the Lycan part of themselves.  In werewolves, the wolf and the human can communicate, but the wolf can take over, especially when shifted.  In my mind, that’s what made werewolves so dangerous.  The Lycan half works with the human half, and they are one personality.  Lycans have also been extinct since the sixteenth century.  That was a long time ago.  Stephen Jones was wrong.

The next morning I ate a quick breakfast of some overnight oats with blueberries and took another shower.  I always felt dirty after traveling and it took me some time to wash the greasy feeling out of my hair.  I tied it back into a long, thick braid and put on my favorite hoodie with my jeans.  Everyone around here has seen my facial scar, but I always feel a little self-conscious and try to give myself a way to cover it if I need to.  The hoodie also helped to cover the numerous scars I have on my body, especially my arms and hands.  They were usually the first things that were sliced by the wolves’ claws.

I ran down the stairs, through the door leading outside and then walked down two offices to a small one in the middle. There was a modest sign on the door that stated: “Thompkins Exterminations.” We didn’t advertise nor do I pay G****e for a listing, but Emmett still got two or three phone calls a week wanting to know if we would take care of a squirrel in the attic or mice in the basement. He usually just told them we were booked out and recommended someone else.

Emmett was sitting at an oversized desk in an oversized table.  He was an oversized man who needed the oversized furniture.  He stood up, knocking over the chair and coming at me, arms outstretched.

“Kace!” he said.  I laughed and threw myself into his arms.  He is one of the very few people in my life who makes me feel short.

He pushed me back and looked me over from top to bottom.  “Can’t see much of you but what I can see looks pretty much the same.  No scars.”

I nodded.  “No scars.  This one was pretty easy.  He didn’t see it coming until it was too late.”

“We got paid already.  The employer saw the news story on social media and didn’t wait for proof of completion.”  Emmett turned to go back to his computer.

“Cool,” I said.  “Do me a favor and send a contract to Stephen Jones.  I think I’m going to take this one.”

Emmett nodded.  “I figured you would.  I have one up already.  Since he’s not entirely sure how many are in the pack, I think you should charge per kill.  And ask for a pretty sizeable upfront fee because you’re going to be there awhile.  I think you’re going to need to rent an apartment, even.”

“You’ve been doing research,” I said, impressed. He nodded. “Never had this come up before and it’s not exactly something you can g****e to see how others do it.” He looked at me sideways. “Don’t be mad, Kace. I called your dad and asked him for advice on how to charge for this.”

I shrugged.  “Not mad.  Indifferent.  How did he sound?”

Emmett wouldn’t meet my eyes.  “Jealous, I guess.  Asked how come you’re getting so many contracts.  Sounded pissed that you have more clients than you can handle.  Sounds like they’re hurting for business.”

I picked at a piece of lint on my sweatshirts.  “Give them some of the business that calls in while I’m taking care of Jones’s problem.  That should help them out a little bit.”

Emmett nodded.  “Will do, boss.” 

I walked through the office into the back where my desk was housed.  I sat down at the computer to write up a report for the clients on my last case, attaching the photo I had taken as proof.  Even though they paid, I wanted them to have my report.  I worked hard, pounding at the keys, refusing to think about my family.