Orion paused on the threshold of the house to peer back at him over his shoulder. “Don’t be a yellow belly. T’will be simple. We go in, grab a few things, and leave. She’ll probably not even notice.”

“I’d notice if it was my things being stolen,” Ambrose insisted.

“That’s ‘cause you don’t have much but the clothes on your back. You’d get cold right quick if you was naked,” Orion said with a snicker.

“Bloody death tax. Took everything,” grumbled Ambrose.

When the pox took his parents, it left him with nothing. His home, his few belongings, all seized by the tax man and him tossed to the streets to fend for himself. Alone and afraid, Ambrose spent those first few days in misery, huddled in alleys, scrounging for scraps. It was how Orion found him.

The same age as Ambrose, Orion knew how to survive and taught Ambrose. Begging for coins or food. Stealing a bite to eat when vendors had their backs turned. Not exactly how Ambrose wanted to live, but starvation had a way of changing a boy’s morals.

“I’m going in. You coming?” Orion asked as he pushed open the door.

“Yeah.” As Ambrose shuffled to join his friend, he couldn’t help glancing around, still convinced someone watched.

The inside of the cottage proved as rustic as the exterior, but tidy. Fragrant herbs hung in bunches from the rafters. A stone hearth showed wood piled and ready for lighting. A pot hung from a hook over it. A table took up the most room and held a basket full of fruit.

Orion snagged an apple and bit in, the crispy crunch almost as appetizing as the juices that ran down his chin. Ambrose almost drooled.

“Delicious! Have one.” Orion tossed him an apple.

Ambrose caught it but didn’t eat it. He eyed his friend and said, “Whatcha think the witch’ll do to us if she catches us stealing?”

“She won’t catch us,” a confident Orion stated.

“What if she turns us into frogs or something?” He remembered it happening in a story his mother used to recite to him before bed.

“Then we’ll have plenty of flies to eat.” Orion poked out his tongue comically before taking another juicy bite.

Ambrose couldn’t resist. He crunched into his apple and groaned at the sweet, crisp taste.

“I’m going to grab some for later.” Orion stuffed two apples into his pockets, plus a pair of plums. Fruit that should have been out of season. How did the witch get them?

“She doesn’t look rich,” Ambrose noted as he ate his treat.

“That’s ‘cause she hides it. It’s probably under the floor.”

“It’s dirt.”

Orion frowned. “Maybe in the ceiling.” They craned to look upward, but only herbs hung.

“We should leave. Those apples will tide us over until tomorrow.”

“Not yet.” Orion moved to the bed and the chest at the foot of it. He flipped open the lid to show folded garments and linens. He rifled through the pile before exclaiming, “Aha.” He held up a picture frame, the edges of it gilded. Probably valuable.

Ambrose moved closer and gazed at the photo within, a recent thing that he didn’t quite like, seeing as how he didn’t understand how a box could spit out an image. Had to be magic. The picture was of the witch, recognizable by her beaked nose, but younger. She had her arm around a girl about their age with the same feature. A daughter most likely.

“I didn’t know the witch had a child,” Ambrose mused. Everyone stated she lived alone.

A subdued Orion murmured, “I saw a grave in the garden.”

“Oh.” For some reason, it made Ambrose sad. He knew what it felt like to lose someone close. Before he could say anything, Orion stuffed the picture frame back into the chest and slammed the lid shut.

“You’re right. There’s nothing here. Let’s go.”

It relieved Ambrose to hear that. Was it wrong to take a few pieces of fruit? Yes, but taking a memory? That would have truly been terrible.

As they whirled to head for the door, it opened, and the witch stood framed.

Both boys froze, mouths agape.

“Hello,” she said softly.

“Um…” Orion appeared at a loss for words.

Whereas Ambrose blabbered, “We’re sorry. We was hungry and had an apple.”

“We can’t give back the ones we ate, but here’s the stuff we took for later.” Orion emptied his pockets without prompting.

The witch pushed back her hood to show a face lined with age, her hair gray and tied back, her eyes intense and a strange mauve color.

“Do not apologize for eating because you’re hungry. Thank you, though, for not taking the only picture I have of my daughter.”

“We don’t want to be thieves,” Ambrose blurted out. “But no one will hire us on account we’re too young.”

“It’s a crime how they treat orphans in this town.” The witch shook her head. “And I can sense you have good hearts. I know someone who is looking for boys such as you. Hard-working lads to do special tasks.”

“What kind of tasks?” Orion asked suspiciously, with good reason. There’d been a gent who’d offered to hire them but had been vague about the details. It turned out he’d wanted to use them in a way no young boy should ever be used. They’d escaped, but the close call left them leery.

As if she’d read their minds, the witch shook her head. “Never would my goddess abuse the innocent.”

“Which goddess do you serve?” Ambrose’s parents hadn’t been very religious. They went to church every Sunday, but they’d not been true believers like some.

“I serve the Goddess Hekate. Have you heard of her?”

Orion shook his head, but Ambrose knew. “She is the goddess of magic. Why would she need us?”

“Because not everyone can hear her voice. How would you feel about being her messengers?”

“What’s it pay?” Orion got to the crux of it.

“Enough for you to have a bed every night to sleep in. Food in your belly. Proper clothing instead of rags.”

“Is it dangerous?” Ambrose blurted out because it sounded too good to be true.

“At times it might be. As her messengers, you might have to travel to perilous locations.”

“Can’t travel far on two feet,” Orion pointed out.

“A good thing that transportation will be provided,” the witch stated with a smile. “To start, you’ll travel by carriage or train, but as you grow, should you stay in her service, then you’ll have to learn to ride.”

“I’d get to ride a horse!” Ambrose had always loved them but only ever sat on a pony once at a fair.

“Yes, a horse,” the witch laughed in reply. “What say you, Orion and Ambrose?”

Rather than ask how she knew their name, they nodded, and Orion solemnly stated, “We accept.”

From that day forward, they never went hungry again. On the contrary, they thrived and proved themselves worthy servants. They eventually became known as Hekate’s hounds, her scions on Earth.

Chapter 1

“She sure is cute,” Orion stated, eyeing the woman with voluptuous curves as she entered a store across the street.

“You should know better than to use the C word,” Ambrose chided.

“Can’t say cute, can’t say hot, can’t say holy fucking boner. These modern times suck,” Orion pouted.

“It’s called evolution,” Ambrose stated, sounding pompous. His close friend of the past century liked to think himself a scholar and read all kinds of stuffy magazines and books. Orion preferred to be in the moment. And in that moment, he really admired the woman they’d been sent to observe. A week now, and he tired of simply watching.

“Evolution is us crawling from the sea. Making perfectly good words bad is just annoying,” Orion grumbled under his breath. But his discontent didn’t last long. “Isn’t it time we introduced ourselves?”

“Most definitely not. Our goddess tasked us with watching over the human. It will be easier if we do so from afar.” Their goddess being Hekate, the deity of magic. They’d been her scions ever since she took them under her wing. Best decision ever.

“Watch for what exactly?” Their instructions hadn’t been clear. They’d received the mission in the form of a mental message that simply showed them an image of the woman, her location, and the instruction to protect if necessary. Nothing more.

Given they were obedient hounds, they’d hopped a plane to Montreal and located the woman in question, who lived in a tiny basement apartment with its windows barred. They’d followed her every morning for the past week as she went to her job in a tiny sandwich shop.

While Hekate had indicated the female was human, Orion had given her trail a good sniff to make sure. Sometimes their goddess didn’t provide all the details when she sent them on a mission. It should be noted she didn’t get involved often in Earthly or human affairs. Although, of late, they’d had back-to-back tasks. Blame the fact times were a-changing.

Old gods had woken. Battles had been fought. The arcane was becoming more prevalent everywhere you looked, except where this woman was concerned.

Name Adeline Gagnon, age thirty-nine. Single. Never married. Had two cats—an unfortunate choice since everyone knew dogs were much better. No kids. No living family that they’d found. No car, or debt. From what they could see, this woman woke up, went to work at the sandwich shop where she’d been employed for the last eighteen years, went home. Rinse, repeat.

Nothing about her drew attention, unless her bodacious bod counted. According to her driver’s license record—which Ambrose acquired via the dark web—she stood five foot nine, a hundred and eighty-five pounds. She kept her dark hair in a short bob and wore thick, black-rimmed glasses but eschewed makeup. Not that she needed any. Her clear complexion accentuated her high cheekbones and full lips.

On a whim, Orion pushed up from the park bench they’d commandeered. For cover, they each had a newspaper and a coffee—large Tim Horton’s paper cups that offered “Roll Up the Rim” prizes via an app. An app! Kind of defeated the whole roll-up part. It especially sucked since he lost while Ambrose won a free donut. The man didn’t even like sweets.

Inactivity made Orion restless, hence why he dumped the paper and his cup into the trash and slicked back his hair.

“Where are you going?” Ambrose asked, folding his paper to fix him with a stern eye.

“I am getting myself a sandwich.”

“I thought we were going to watch and not interact.”

“That was your plan, and it’s bor-r-ring,” Orion whined. “Besides, I’m hungry, and it just so happens she makes sandwiches. I would add it’s also probably a good idea to get a peek inside her place of work. Get a good sniff too, you know, in case there’s some funky shit going on out of sight.”

“Please. We both know you’re going in to flirt with her,” Ambrose accused.

“Is it flirting if it’s just my natural outgoing personality?”

The reply had Ambrose rolling his eyes. “Not every woman has to be a conquest.”

“Excuse me, but I do not try and seduce every female I meet.”

“And yet they end up in your bed,” Ambrose’s dry reply.

“Not my fault they find me attractive and drop their panties begging me for some loving.” A bit of an exaggeration. They didn’t beg. They simply threw themselves at him, and he didn’t want to be rude.

“You’re a whore, Orion.” Ambrose shook his head.

“And you’re uptight, old friend. I can’t wait for the day when you meet a woman who manages to loosen you up and leave you spinning.”

“As if I’d ever match with someone chaotic.”

“You know what they say. Opposites attract.”

“Does this mean you’re going to end up with a sweet and sensible girl who isn’t impressed by your charm and expects you to take out the garbage?”

“Perish the thought. I’m never settling down.” Orion declared it, mostly because he’d been saying it for the past century. He wasn’t about to admit that, of late, the freewheeling lifestyle of a bachelor had finally begun to wear on him. Different faces every other night. The same vapid conversations. Pleasure quick and fleeting, forgotten the moment it was done.

He blamed his retrospect on having been in close proximity to a couple newly in love. Seeing how Marissa and Koda eyed each other, the way they’d eagerly rushed off every time they got a chance to be intimate, the secret smiles they shared… It all aroused a feeling in him that he didn’t often feel.

Envy.

Weird. Probably just a passing phase.

“Want anything?” he asked Ambrose as he stood on the curb, waiting for a car to pass.

“Since you insist on going in, then yes. Ham and cheese on rye, light on the mustard—”

“Hold the pickle, no lettuce, but yes to bacon if they have some. I know.” Ambrose never deviated. “You know, you should expand your horizons. Try something new.”

“I could say the same about you.”

“What are you talking about? I’m always up for new experiences,” Orion boasted.

“Says the man who has never had a real girlfriend and cringes at the idea of monogamy.”

“And deprive the world of my skills as a lover? Perish the thought,” Orion declared as he crossed the street.

The sandwich shop sat between an appliance repair store and a tarot reader. The sign above the shop, a simple plank of painted wood, stated, Sandwiches Your Way. It didn’t have any gimmicks or flashy lights. Probably explained the light foot traffic they’d observed this past week. These days people wanted an experience they could post on social media. The lack of business could also be because the food sucked. He’d soon find out.

A bell tinkled as he entered. The scent of cured meat and freshly baked bread filled his nostrils, along with a hint of his target’s lingering perfume—his target, who didn’t stand behind the counter. No one did. Not really a surprise since they never saw any other employees entering the place. Could be they did so via the alley, but the few times Orion posted himself to watch, he’d only ever seen Adeline popping out for a breath of air.

Orion stood before the glass display that held hunks of meat, ready to be sliced. The board on the wall behind listed the day’s special—tuna club on a pretzel roll—along with a list of basic sandwiches. Roast beef, ham, pastrami, meatball. There was also a mix-and-match option where all the types of breads and toppings were listed for someone to build themselves an epic sandwich a la Shaggy and Scooby-Doo.

The beaded curtain leading to the back room rustled as a woman emerged. His target. Adeline Gagnon. She looked even more delicious up close.

Orion beamed her with his gazillion-watt, panty-dropping smile. “Well, hello there.”

She remained smooth-featured and said, “How can I help you, sir?”

Sir. Ack. He almost grimaced. “Looking for two sandwiches. A boring ham and cheese on rye for my friend, no lettuce or pickle, easy on the mustard, with bacon, please.”

She immediately began pulling out a fresh loaf of rye and sliced it. As she piled on the fixings, she asked, “And for you, sir?”

“What do you suggest, sweetheart?”

Despite the flirty term, she didn’t look up or even blush. Most likely she had strange men complimenting her day in and out. But still, Orion wasn’t used to women ignoring him.

“Our special of the day is a good choice.”

His lips twisted. “I’ll be honest, I’m more of a beef than fish kind of guy.”

“Then might I suggest the roast beef au jus, on a fresh baguette, topped with sauteed mushrooms, provolone cheese, and a hint of horseradish.”

“That sounds delicious.”

She finished wrapping the first sandwich and began work on his, not once looking at him or engaging. Probably shy.

“So what’s your favorite sandwich?” he asked.

“I don’t eat bread,” she remarked. “Or meat for that matter.”

He blinked in surprise. “But you work in a deli shop.”

“I do.”

“Wouldn’t you prefer to work somewhere you don’t have to deal with stuff you don’t like?”

She cast him a brief glance. “I don’t like a lot of things. Not a reason to steer clear of them. Besides, this way it’s easier to avoid temptation. I worked in an ice cream shop before this. Not a good idea since I’ve a weakness for cookie dough chocolate chip.”

Aha, she had a sweet tooth.

Before he could draw out some more info, she presented him with the sandwiches. “That will be forty-two seventy-one.”

His jaw almost dropped. “For two sandwiches?”

“Two very good sandwiches,” she firmly stated.

He had the cash, but still… The pricing explained the lack of customers. He counted out forty-three dollars and handed it over. She offered him the change, which he dumped into the tip jar and added another five. Forty-eight bucks for two sandwiches. They’d better be the best he’d ever eaten.

Orion snared the paper bag she’d put them in, and before he could say another word, she disappeared into the back.

Not very social. He returned to Ambrose with the food, a bemused expression leading his friend to say, “What happened?”

“I just got fleeced. Do you know how much I paid for these?” He shook the bag. Although, one bite later, he did have to admit it was the best damned sandwich he’d ever eaten.

Pity hardly anyone entered the shop to find out. Some went in and quickly left empty-handed. A few went inside and stayed in there so long he had to wonder what was going on. The window had a glare that didn’t let him see in. Those men—and only men, he noticed—eventually exited with a bag that he assumed held a sandwich.

The shop closed at six, and they trailed Adeline home. She carried only her purse and never once looked back.

Never saw the wererat trailing her.

But the hounds did.

Orion almost sighed with relief. At last, their boring job was about to get interesting.

Chapter 2

Adeline entered her basement apartment and kicked off her shoes with a sigh. Nothing like being barefoot after a day’s work.

“Hey, Smudge and Fudge.” She greeted her cats lying on the slim ledge of the basement window. The pair stretched, and each opened an eye to peek at her then promptly went back to sleep.

Par for the course. At times she wondered why she fed them. A male and female Siamese with vivid blue eyes she’d found in the alley behind the shop wearing matching collars. She’d tried to drop them off at the local animal shelter, only they were full. Adeline had no choice but to take them home, however, she did her due diligence and put-up flyers. No one ever replied. She wasn’t exactly upset given she found herself loving the cute pair. Next thing she knew, she’d bought all the supplies needed; bed, cat tower and toys, fancy food—only to have them eschew everything feline. They preferred fresh fish, never played with toys—unless the occasional rodent or large spider counted—and slept either in the window or on her pillow, usually after nudging her from it.

At times she wondered why they stayed, seeing how they barely paid her any mind. That didn’t stop her from trying to earn their affection.

She padded over to her tiny kitchenette with its bar-sized fridge. The fresh can of tuna she pulled from the cupboard brought them trotting, and Smudge even rubbed against her leg for a quick second before she shoved her face into the bowl to chomp. Adeline chose to have salad with lentils for dinner and peaches with cream for dessert.

After she did her few dishes, she turned on the television and half-watched it while sweeping up cat hair. So much hair.

With her small place clean, she sat on her pull-out couch, which doubled as her bed, and sighed. Busy day today. The shop’s high prices hadn’t deterred a few clients, and so she’d actually had to make sandwiches. Ugh. Not her favorite thing, to be honest. She’d not lied when she told that one client, the good-looking blond, that she didn’t do bread or meat.

Vegetarian all the way. Cheese and eggs were her only animal products, and they were ethically sourced, imported from a farm in Nexus. Annie, the owner, delivered monthly.

At ten, Adeline pulled out her bed from the couch and slept for a few hours until a low growl woke her.

“What is it, kitties?” she murmured, rolling onto her back.

Rowr. One of her cats didn’t sound happy. Understandable, given she blinked sleep from her eyes to see the ungodly time of two fifty-three a.m.

Sigh. And she had to be up by five.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed as her cats continued to make noise. “I know. I know. Someone’s at the door. Give me a second.” She reached under the bed and pulled out the taser, freshly charged since the last incident. In her other hand, she held a baseball bat. Good for whacking and less messy than a knife.

Armed, she then planted herself in front of the door and waited.

The knob turned, left, then right, squeaking on purpose. She didn’t oil it because she wanted to hear when someone tried to break in on the off-chance one day her kitties decided to not warn her. Who knew cats would make such good guards?

She didn’t turn on a light. She knew from experience it wouldn’t deter. She waited.

Click.

Her locks never seemed to foil those picking them. And she’d tried. Mega deadbolts. Electronic ones. Specialized custom keys. Even the magically hexed versions failed. It became easier to just let them come in.

The door opened, and there it stood, about four feet tall, its nose pink, like the tip of its tail, with red eyes and whiskers.

A wererat. Not her first.

It hissed and showed yellowed teeth.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re vicious,” she grumbled. “Let’s get this over with.”

Before she could dart in and zap it with the taser, a low growl—not of the feline variety—preceded a large dog pouncing the wererat from behind. The first creature uttered a piercing noise of rage as it hit the floor, buried under a massive, black-furred hound. The two began to tussle, with the wererat managing to scramble free. The dog advanced on it, drawing it deeper into the tiny apartment. Not good. While she didn’t own much of worth, she’d scrimped for the television and would hate to have to replace it.

The cats jumped to the windowsill and watched with flicking tails as the dog feinted toward the wererat, which swiped with its clawed paw. The big furball lunged and took the wererat to the floor. A chomp to the neck and a crunch of bone led to the wererat going limp.

One down.

The winner looked at Adeline, its eyes unnaturally bright. This was no ordinary dog. Just freaking lovely.

Her cats uttered a low warning growl. Another threat according to them, despite the fact it took out the monster. All she needed to know. Adeline darted forward, taser in hand, and zapped it.

The dog gave her a look of betrayal as its body jiggled. But it didn’t fall over, so she swung the bat and connected.

Whack.

The big canine slumped to the floor atop the wererat.

Leaning against her bat, she sighed. Two bodies to get rid of. So much for getting any more sleep tonight.

Before she could grab a rope for hauling, a throat cleared itself in her doorway.

“Sorry to bother, but did you just kill Orion?”

She glanced to see a beautiful man standing there. Ebony-skinned but with light eyes, dressed in loose khakis and a long-sleeve Henley.

“Orion?” She glanced down. “I assume you mean the dog?” Because she couldn’t imagine anyone keeping the wererat as a pet. “He’s not dead. Just sleeping very soundly.” And would have slept forever if she’d dumped him under a nearby bridge. The troll under there appreciated the fresh meat and got rid of the evidence. She’d long ago learned the Cryptid Authority was more headache than help when it came to these kinds of random attacks.

“I told him to not rush in,” the beautiful man said with a sigh and shake of his head.

“In your dog’s defense, he thought I was in danger. Unfortunately for him, I wasn’t sure if he’d attack me next.”

The reply led to the man eyeing her taser and bat before giving her a faint smile. “It would seem you had things well in hand. Do attacks of this type happen often?”

Given she didn’t know him and, again, didn’t want to deal with authorities, she shook her head. “Guess the rat smelled my dinner and wanted to come in for a bite.”

The man glanced at her tiny kitchen area with a frown. “I doubt it came for the salad.”

How had he known? She pursed her lips. “I think you should take your dog and leave.”

“I’m sorry. This must be rather disturbing. Here I am, a strange fellow on your doorstep in the middle of the night. I’m Ambrose.” He held out his hand as if he expected her to shake it.

She raised her taser and said, “I’m tired and would like to go back to bed.”

“Of course. If you’ll give me a moment to gather my friend.” She took a step back as he entered her place, but rather than approach her, he knelt by the big dog and muttered, “Idiot.” He scooped the beast with little effort but then eyed the wererat still lying there.

“If you give me a moment, I’ll remove this for you as well.”

“No need. I can handle it.”

“I’m sure you can,” he murmured. “But allow me.”

The man dumped the dog in the tiny outdoor landing and immediately returned to grab the wererat, slinging it over a shoulder. He stared at her, rather intently, before saying, “Sorry to have disturbed you. Be sure to lock up.” He then closed the door. She remained staring at it for a moment before engaging the locks.

What a weird night. And forget sleep.

The coffee went on early, and despite her vow to reduce her sugar intake, she made herself a batch of whipped cream to go with her strawberries for breakfast.

In retrospect, it occurred to her to wonder if the man would turn her into the authorities for harming the wererat—not that much would happen. They were considered pests, with very little cognitive thought in their tiny brains, and the minute one attacked they became fair game. That said, the paperwork could be copious, and she had better things to do.

Of interest? How the beautiful man didn’t seem shocked by her actions. Even volunteered to help. He must have been walking his dog when it smelled the rat and instinct kicked in. Although who the heck walked their pet at such an ungodly hour?

Not her problem. At least he’d been polite and saved her from lugging the wererat in her large duffel that she kept for such occasions. Third home invasion this month and seventh this year.

As to why it kept happening? She hadn’t the slightest clue, but it might be time to move to a more secure building—if she could afford it.

Rental prices had been skyrocketing since Covid and her current place wasn’t too bad. The landlord liked her and the fact she always paid on time and that she didn’t cause trouble. Moving would mean cutting back on her reading and the fund she’d been growing so she could go on a cruise.

She eyed Fudge and Smudge napping once more. “I’m going to shower. Keep an eye on the place, would you?”

Neither moved, but their tails swished. She’d bring them home something fresh for dinner; they’d earned it. Maybe she’d pick up a bone too, just in case she ran into the beautiful man and his dog again.

Then again, it might be best if they never crossed paths because Adeline tended to be bad luck to those around her. And it would be a shame if he accidentally died.