The Stray Human: A college age urban fantasy with werewolves, werewolf community center book 1

by Abigail Smith

  Abigail smith

  The Stray Human

  An urban fantasy adventure with werewolves

  Copyright © 2020 by Abigail smith

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  Abigail smith asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

  Designations used by companies to distinguish their products are often claimed as trademarks. All brand names and product names used in this book and on its cover are trade names, service marks, trademarks and registered trademarks of their respective owners. The publishers and the book are not associated with any product or vendor mentioned in this book. None of the companies referenced within the book have endorsed the book.

  First edition

  This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy

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  Grandmother

  Thank you for giving me the chance

  Contents

  Preface

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  About the Author

  Preface

  If you enjoyed this book, and would like to know more of the world, or support the author you can sign up to the mailing list at: https://tinyurl.com/y4zbcbae

  Once signed up you’ll receive an extra short story, delving into unexplored aspects of the world, though a different point of view. Sign up close to the launch and there’s a high chance you could become the beta reader or advanced reviewer of the next book: the stray kitsune

  Author website: https://abigailsmithwrites.com/

  Chapter 1

  “You see, the problem with it is that it’s way too much. My family and I believe that the meal wasn’t worth ninety-five dollars,” the tall blond man said, gesturing to the wife and two kids sitting next to him.

  I gave him a ‘quit your bullshit’ stare, something I knew was frowned upon by my managers, but I couldn’t help it. I had a habit of calling people on their attempts to haggle for their food. Hello, this isn’t some kind of art auction. Prices are listed and are at a set and very low profit margin for everyone.

  “Listen, you came in here and ordered the most expensive items on the menu. Do you think I’m stupid? Pay what you owe!” I said, nearly shouting.

  The two kids, spitting images of Mom and Dad, giggled, no doubt expecting my defiance to be swiftly punished.

  “I don’t like your tone, young lady,” the woman spat, matching my indignation and then some.

  “Either get us a better price or we’re not paying,” the man said in a huff.

  “You can’t do that!” This time, I did shout. “Do you know how little restaurants even make as it is?” Seven times I’ve used that line And, by now, I should have known my business degree was absolutely worthless.

  The manager sprinted around tables and customers to get to me before things erupted.

  “Charging people ninety-five dollars per meal? They seem to be working out fine!” the man argued.

  I hated these kinds of people. Just when you think a day’s going well, one will appear. Trying to pay less than everyone else because God knows why! Or when it’s been a shitty day at a restaurant one will show up to make it ten times worse!

  “Elizabeth, why don’t I take this from here?” my manager said, slipping between me and the man. “What seems to be the problem here?” he said, putting on his most pleasant airs.

  “Your waitress was being really rude, and this meal was not up to our standards considering the cost. We’re not paying!” the man said, throwing the napkin onto the plate.

  With a good look at his shirt, I noticed he clearly spent top dollar on it, yet still skimped out on paying for the meal.

  “Do not worry, sir. I’m sure we can come to an arrangement. What did you think the meal was more akin to in price?”

  It always sickened me how managers could be so unyielding when telling you off, yet so yielding in the face of one unruly customer.

  “It was more like… thirty, rounding up, of course.”

  “That’s bullshit! You knew full well you were ordering the most expensive meal. Stop trying to rob us,” I said, jabbing my finger towards his face.

  That was it, the point where the entire restaurant looked at me, although I was showing great control by not shouting at him. I felt the silent judgment of everyone around us. I knew this feeling well. It’d been what lost me the last three jobs. While I knew someone would be rooting for me, the manager was not.

  “E-lis, mind stepping into the back for a moment?” he said, using my nickname for the first time.

  I clenched my fist but stormed off. “Is there no sense of justice in the world anymore?” I asked myself, trying to hold back tears of frustration. Along with preemptive tears of sadness for my inevitable termination.

  I walked into the back, tearing off the uniform. I grabbed my street clothes, a simple, dark navy crop top and tan cargo pants. The cook looked at me and sighed.

  “Guess that commotion was partly you?” he asked.

  I was grateful, he said partly. Not many cooks were so sympathetic, as I had personally found out. It wasn’t often that anyone at work was sympathetic, which was why I rarely engaged.

  “Guy’s got a whole family together in designer cashmere and won’t pay ninety-five for two steaks, a lobster, and, like, seven appetizers!”

  “Oh, so that’s the table who ordered the lobster. I hate cooking lobster because we buy them alive. Anyway, I wish you luck on the job hunt.”

  The manager barged in with a scowl on his face. “Elizabeth, good, you’re ahead of the game. I need you to step out, and tomorrow we’re going to… perform an employee evaluation.”

  “You’re not firing me?”

  “Alas, I’ve been told to hold off on
any decisions like that until I hear some news from the owner tomorrow. So, thank his gratefulness you get a second chance,” he hissed.

  I sighed and took my overcoat and purse and walked out. The cool night air was always refreshing after being cooped up inside a hot restaurant for a night. It was also very sobering as my mind turned to my financial situation.

  Hot tears streamed down my face. The semester was paid off for the next few months. My rent was coming up soon, though, and there was little food in my dorm.

  I shambled my way towards home. It was, unfortunately, a fair trek through a street with a bad reputation, despite it being near the university campus. I clutched my purse over and over as if squeezing it would somehow generate money, or there was some money there, I just had to find it.

  No such luck. “I can’t believe that guy,” I said, always preferring anger to sadness. “If you’re going to come to a restaurant, you should be able to pay for what you’re getting!”

  I kicked a small rock on the sidewalk, getting so frustrated that the cool air was having a hard time finding equilibrium with me.

  Is there no justice in the world? Would that guy have to answer for his poor attitude and disregard for those he brushed off?

  My head swirled, and I turned onto the wrong street. I didn’t care. A longer walk wouldn’t harm anything.

  “By the light of the Almighty, may your sinful kin be purged from this Earth!” came a gruff shout from a short distance away.

  Chapter 2

  I jumped and swivelled to find the source of the voice. A man in a ragged trench coat, with his hair cut short in a military-style, brandished a knife towards a younger girl. She was sixteen, maybe seventeen.

  They were about five metres ahead of me. The man had the girl pressed against the brick wall of an alleyway. She was using all her strength to hold back his knife-wielding arm as he used his other to try to forcefully bend her arms.

  My eyes went wide as I watched the girl struggling to not get stabbed. At that moment, I

  thought of every annoying customer, every jackass who tried to rip me, or the place I was working for, off. All that, my anger and frustration at the injustice I had to face and be okay with.

  With that in mind, I drew the line in the sand and wouldn’t yield anymore! Before I even knew what was happening, I charged full speed at the man and slammed my right shoulder into him, tackling him.

  Pain surged as the man stumbled away from the girl. I dropped my purse and breathed in sharply before getting back into some semblance of a fighting stance. Not that I knew any fighting stance, but I could fake one.

  With a little shuffle, I got between him and the girl, who seemed to be in a daze.

  “What do you think you’re doing?!” the man cried out, punching me in the left shoulder reflexively.

  I could’ve sworn I heard a crack as pain ran through my left arm. Yeah, no, this is why people tell you not to be a hero…

  “Stopping you from killing a defenceless little girl!” I shouted, throwing a punch at the man’s nose.

  The man held up his forearm and my punch hit that instead. This time, I definitely heard a crack as my wrist buckled the wrong way. A sharp pain ran up my other arm. Apparently, if you’re not holding your fist right, you can really hurt yourself!

  “Ow.” I seethed and looked at the girl, trying my hardest not to swear in front of her, but the pain was excruciating. “Fuck.”

  The man reared up and kicked me, sending me to the ground. I coughed, but got up, putting myself between the man and the girl again, who now looked at me with wide eyes.

  “Get out of my way or I’ll have to kill you, too!” he grunted, switching his grip on the blade to an underhanded one as he moved forwards.

  He held the blade in my direction. Even If I knew how to fight, the extra bit of reach from that knife would be a problem.

  “No!” I gritted my teeth and stood as straight as I could.

  There was a sudden crunch of metal outside the alleyway behind me, followed by the sound of shattering glass. While I couldn’t see anything, I could still sense the feeling of something heavy smashing the thing. The man looked over, and I tried to kick the knife out of his hand. He backhanded my leg out of the way and lunged at me just before two large black beasts landed beside him.

  In the dim light of the alleyway, all I saw were black blobs. They hit the ground with the thud of heavy, powerful bodies. I tried to focus to see what he was reacting to, but my vision was starting to blur.

  The man recoiled and turned his back to me and the girl. I grabbed her in my arms and ran from the alleyway as a third fuzzy blob entered. Whatever it was, it growled in a deep guttural way that made my body vibrate.

  I got the girl out of there, even as she started to push against me. Outside the alley, I also noticed a car had its roof caved in, but it didn’t seem pressing at the time. Just a few feet from the alley, under the window of a store, I stumbled and fell over. The pain I felt was much more than I expected once the adrenaline stopped filling me with undue courage.

  “Ow,” I let out before trying to sit back up.

  The girl helped me towards the wall. My sight was blurring more and things started to turn grey. Everything hurt, and now I was the one in need of saving. I looked towards the alleyway as the three black blobs exited it.

  Their forms suddenly shifted, jolting upright with the majority of their mass turning into the silhouettes of three men.

  “Oh, good, the pain’s making me hallucina—” And that’s as much as I remember of that night.

  Chapter 3

  I woke up, my entire body throbbing in pain, to find myself on my couch. I ran through the memories I had from last night and concluded this shouldn’t have been where I woke up. I got up and searched around. I was still wearing my outdoor clothes, with my wallet and such still in my pockets.

  I limped over to the kitchen to check on the time. It was surprisingly early, about seven o’clock, which was about an hour off when I normally woke up.

  I remembered what little I could of the confrontation from the night before and rubbed my shoulder bruise. It was still quite sore from the blows I took. I was also wondering about what else had happened, the totalled car, those blobs the attacker seemed to fear.

  “That’s it, I’m going to learn some martial arts,” I swore to myself.

  It was mainly to get my mind off all the questions I had. I needed to focus to not lose my job. I quickly made myself breakfast and hobbled towards the restaurant for that employee evaluation they’d scheduled.

  “Maybe they’ll take pity on me after finding out I risked my life for a little girl. Or maybe they’ll ask uncomfortable questions and get the wrong impression.” I knew my luck.

  My hobbling was caused by my intense pain, which faded as I walked. So, what I thought would have been a factor that’d add an hour or so to my commute, just sort of faded after the first block.

  I took a seat by the entrance and rubbed my shoulder, trying to rid the pain from it. There was a large bruise painting most of my shoulder purple with a bit of green and yellow at the fringes. I heal quickly so it’d be gone before too long. I wasn’t worried.

  Eventually, the manager came by and eyed me for a moment. His mouth formed into a pout as I continued to rub my shoulder. He went to unlock the door, saying nothing. It was the kind of pout my brother would make when I stood my ground and got him to stop bullying me.

  I stood up and lowered my arm as he got the door open. He sighed, putting a bag down on the podium, which held the dining manifest and computer. He turned around and recoiled in shock.

  “What the hell happened to your arm?”

  “You’re not liable, don’t worry about it.” I turned to the side, never liking when people take such interest in me.

  “Did that happen after I dismissed you? What, did you track down that guy after he left?”

  “If that’d happened, Miss May I Speak to Your Manager would have called the
police, and the kids would probably have tried to bite my legs off.” I folded my arms, trying to stop myself from shouting.

  Bringing up last night would not help me with this employee evaluation. He rummaged around in his pack to get something or other and walked towards the back.

  “The boss is displeased with you,” he said, clearly starting the evaluation off quickly.

  “Does he know the whole story?”

  “He doesn’t need to, darling, but for some reason, he’s taken pity on you, so it’s a month of probation, i.e., no shouting, no kicking, no screaming, and no fraternizing, and we’ll be good. Anything like that, and you’re fired on the spot.”

  “Does that mean giving out meals for free to customers who think they’re above paying?”

  He didn’t dignify that with a response as a few more people flooded in. I didn’t know anyone from the morning shift. I was more of a night owl so, already, there was a degree of separation. Furthermore, they all seemed so angry and rushed, but if I was to make that rent, I’d have to deal with them for a while. At least most crazy people need some coffee before they can summon the energy they need for being crazy. So, this morning shift wasn’t likely to be a problem.

  I went into the back, got my uniform, and started the daily grind. It’d be three hours of this, two hours of class, and then I could mope in my dorm for a couple of hours. Provided Amelia wasn’t in a mood.

  About an hour into the shift, a group of four walked in, one of whom I recognized. It was the girl from the night before. She had on a blue turtleneck sweater and blue jeans. Her brunette hair was a little frizzy and about shoulder-blade length. Even from across the room, her deep blue eyes in that chubby face drew my attention. She was also flanked by three guys who definitely had a workout routine.

  The only one I couldn’t see the abs of wore a hoodie, which was straining to keep in his bulging muscles.

  I was on the other side of the restaurant from them, so another waitress took them to their seat. I set down some home fries and coffee and looked back up to see them pointing at me. The other waitress looked at me, scowled, turned back to them, saw them nod, and came to me.