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

by Abigail Smith

  “Do I look drunk to you?” she asked with a glare.

  “Many people show it differently. Increased aggression is one possible sign,” I said, waving my hand in between us with my palm upwards.

  “New girl, this is my normal level of aggression. If it raised any, you’d be dead,” the girl threatened.

  David was about to step in when I got right up into her face. “Listen here, I’ll not be tolerating any death threats in this bar. You want to act this way and get fancy drinks, I suggest you invest in a large home where you can put in your own bar.”

  We both stared daggers at each other while the two men watched. I absentmindedly wondered what they were thinking about this whole time when David’s arm went to the woman’s upper chest and slowly pushed her back.

  “You two are going to be the best of friends, I just know it!” David said with a smug grin on his face.

  I handed the woman a shot glass of vodka, and she downed it right before smiling, like she was impressed. She was definitely stress-testing me.

  The man she’d come in with had turned around in his seat, leaning his back against the bar till his bones made a cracking sound. He sighed and looked off into space.

  Gavin came by and sat at the bar while the woman asked for another shot. She seemed fine at the time, despite the rapid pace of drinking. So, I gave her another one.

  She gulped it down and sighed. “Yo, David. Cid on duty tonight?” she asked, also leaning her back to the bar.

  “Nope, Sally’s got the infirmary all to herself,” David responded.

  An infirmary? It made sense to have one. Both to go with the roleplay and to go with the general atmosphere of a LARP if someone hurt themselves acting like a big strong werewolf. They could get stitched up, possibly in character. Though it would kind of suck having to play doctor in such a setting. Hopefully, the person was more about keeping people safe and less about being in character.

  The two nodded and got up, heading towards the stairwell. I looked to Gavin, who pulled up his hood, seemingly because he was a bit chilly.

  “She sure took that vodka well,” I commented.

  “I should probably tell you…” Gavin started.

  I raised an eyebrow, thinking the weird stuff under the bar might be some kind of alcohol delay or something.

  “…there’s no theatrics. What Silvia said was real.”

  It was nice that older brother Gavin worked with Silvia’s story, it really was, but I couldn’t help but feel enabling underaged drinking was a bit counterproductive in this instance.

  “Right,” I said. “If two livers were a thing, wouldn’t you be twice the size, bursting with organs and muscles?”

  “The other part is in another dimension and can interact with the body in this one. Connections like that are made to optimize performance and keep toxins at a minimum, which is why a lot of the werewolves will want more booze.”

  “Uh-huh,” I said. Had to hand it to him, never heard that as an explanation for werewolves. “Can I get you anything?” I asked, moving the contract towards the counter.

  “Root beer,” he said, looking away as if it was shameful.

  He seemed fairly disappointed that he failed to pull me into his fiction. “Designated driver?” I asked, smiling at his responsibility.

  “No. Even if they were drunk, they wouldn’t want me driving,” he said, shrugging.

  I looked him over again. He was a big man, though not overly so. His muscles were well-toned, and you could feel the strength radiating off him. “Why’s that?” I asked.

  “I go at the speed limit. They’d be bored out of their minds,” he said without the slightest hint that it was a joke.

  “That’s alarming,” I said as I fished out the root beer from far in the back.

  I looked over and noticed David. He watched me from one of the tables, a big dumb smile on his face. It was like he was waiting for the punchline to a joke he loved to be told.

  “Eh, sometimes it pays to have people who know how to do things quickly, and other times it pays to play by the rules,” Gavin said with a shrug as he drank his root beer.

  I looked back at the contract and slowly approached the NDA, which was about halfway through the thick stack of papers. I stopped to think about this whole mess. I walked home after a bad day, saw a girl getting attacked, hardly helped at all, fell unconscious, woke up in my apartment, and then suddenly received a job offer after my boss had a meltdown.

  “God, if I wasn’t in university, this would be too good to trust,” I said, rubbing my face.

  I looked at my phone for the time and was astonished to find it was actually getting pretty late.

  “Wow, where did the time go?” I asked.

  David walked up. “You wanna do a shift tonight?” he said.

  He put a lot of emphasis on the word shift for some reason. He still had that goofy-looking smile on his face.

  “I guess? Maybe like a half one since I woke up so early this morning?” I said.

  “Sounds good. You might consider making yourself a recharge and maybe petting some of the dogs here to get yourself ready.”

  The tone of the suggestion made it sound like a trap, but if petting a dog was a trap, I’d be willing to fall for it, and I think he knew that.

  I looked ar the blue menu for this recharge drink. “Powdered extract of… electromoss?” Come on, were they even trying with that one?

  “It’s not a real moss, just a bacterial colony,” he said, taking out a green-yellow powder from beneath the bar.

  “Come again?!” I said, suddenly very worried.

  “Some of these ingredients are made by specialty-bred bacterial colonies, like how we make insulin nowadays.”

  “Then these are, like, some weird synthetic drugs?” I asked, looking down at the containers.

  “Relax, nothing’s addictive that we’re allowed, and it’s more for fun, like adding pop rocks to soda,” he said, now on the defensive.

  The electromoss was to be mixed with some more of that aqua mushroom powder, making an acid-like green. I guessed that’s where the recharge and even the whole electromoss thing came from. It was to be mostly vodka, but not wanting to get too drunk because of the kinds of people who LARP, I only had a little.

  I wasn’t sure if it was a good idea, though. Going down, it felt like sludge, sour and bitter, like I’d mixed beer into a sour slushy from a convenience store. I gagged a bit but managed to swallow it.

  “Oh, nasty! No wonder it’s paired with vodka,” I sputtered. I dumped and cleaned out the glass and put it back on the rack before heading over to the doggy bed area.

  The dog who’d come in with the man and woman went down the stairs with them, while the one who’d been sleeping there the whole time was still snoozing. I smiled. My dog had always been so cute when she was asleep.

  I knelt slowly, not wanting to startle the poor thing. I slowly patted it, starting at the thick bushy fur around its neck and frontmost part and down the side towards its rear end. Its fur was so soft, like it’d just been cleaned with some super soft shampoo.

  Most of the smell was just booze and dogs, so I couldn’t tell if said shampoo had actually been used recently, or if they just kept their dogs really clean.

  The clock slowly turned to six as I carefully petted the dog, wondering what its breed was. Couldn’t have been a Labrador. Though its colour was right, its morphology was all wrong.

  David smiled and came over. I was getting tired of him smiling. I silently hoped his cheek muscles were getting sore from doing it so much.

  “Hey, Anderson!” he said, tapping the dog on the hind legs with his foot.

  I glared at him. This poor pup was just trying to sleep, and he was kicking it! The dog’s eyes opened, and it turned to look at David.

  “Booze time!” David said, once again making me angry.

  The dog got up and yawned as I glared daggers at David, who surprisingly had his eyes locked onto my face.

&n
bsp; And that’s when the dog turned into a man.

  Chapter 7

  I recoiled as the cute dog who’d been sleeping in the bar for the past several hours became a greasy looking old man.

  As he took bipedal form clothes seemed to spring into existence around him, and he grunted loudly. “What the—” I stammered, looking at David.

  “What, did no one warn you?” he asked on the verge of laughter, knowing they had.

  “We’re werewolves!” he said as the older man looked around.

  “Don’t be so cruel to the lady, David. You realize Leonardo will be displeased when he finds out you didn’t hire from inside the organization,” he said with a worried tone.

  “Anderson, no werewolf wants to man a bar, and we’ve found that using it as a liquor cabinet was a bad idea. So, since we have a new member of the community, I thought it’d be best if she took the job.”

  My mind raced, hardly picking up on what they were talking about. But one thing was clear, David had said community and not pack; I’d read a couple of books with this very thing as their premise. In most instances, the female lead was a part of the werewolves’ pack!

  “New member?” the old man, apparently Mister Anderson, asked, looking at me, stroking his well-trimmed salt and pepper beard.

  “Remember the brightest bit of sunshine the community’s seen since forever?” David said.

  “Silvia,” the man responded instantly.

  “She was under attack, and this lady here, while not quite capable of taking the villain out,” I shot David a glare at that one, “managed to distract him long enough for me, Lorenz, and Gavin to find him. Then she promptly passed out. It wasn’t that late in the evening, so I’m guessing it was from the pain.”

  The man stretched and dusted off his, now that I think about it… duster, and looked me up and down.

  “Name’s Richard Anderson. Welcome,” he said, offering me a hand with a mild smile.

  His eyes were a pale green, his hair well-kept if a bit crazy, with greying sides. Underneath his duster was a button-down shirt and some slacks.

  I reluctantly shook his hand, finding his grasp strong but gentle enough so as to not harm me. He then walked over and sat down on a barstool.

  “So,” David said, leaning in towards me, “finished with that contract?”

  I’m not entirely sure what he expected me to do with this information, but he seemed rather content with blowing my mind.

  “This… doesn’t make sense. Werewolves, that’s a myth, it’s not real. How could this be real,” I said, stuttering, my hands trembling.

  I mean, I’d pretty much loved any and all urban fantasy where stuff like this happened, but still, it actually happening was another thing entirely. Not to mention all that time I’d spent rationalizing their lives as a LARP was blown out of the water.

  “There’d have to be some kind of government cover-up, and even then, with the flip-flopping nature of democratic government, someone would want to blow the whistle on all this, right? Silvia mentioned mages. Can people learn magic? How was its use hidden from the public?”

  I was going over every question I knew from my books that had to be answered. David didn’t even seem startled at the barrage.

  “No government is involved. Yes, myths exist of werewolves and loup-garous because, at some point, people have seen us, and their tales were seen as total fabrications that were nice storytelling elements. Depending on the person, it can be learned or is an inherent part of them, and it’s hidden by not being shown. We use it as a community and only underground.”

  “Underground? David, that’s not quite accurate, you know that, right?” Anderson said.

  Anderson had now turned around and was pressing his back on my bar. I was starting to see a pattern there.

  “I mean it’s essentially underground, beneath the plane of existence,” David argued.

  I flung my gaze from man to man, confused and desperate to understand. Which was when Anderson’s hand gently touched my shoulder.

  “Understanding things takes time, my girl. How about you take it slowly and start serving some drinks?” he offered.

  Despite his rugged looks, his voice was melodic and reminded me of the term sage advice. I nodded and went behind the bar and looked at him. David joined him and waited for the older man to give his drink order.

  “Hmmm,” Anderson said thoughtfully. “How about a nice beer? A light one?” he asked, having just about the least alcohol content requested by any adult today. I handed him the bottle, and he lifted it to his mouth. His canines elongated, and he slammed the cap’s overhang onto it, sending it flying.

  He caught it mid-air, and then started to drink his beer.

  “Now that you understand the whole werewolf thing, can I get a full-sized Splashdown?” David asked.

  I nodded and poured an entire glass of vodka before adding the mushroom parts. While I was adding the powder, it dawned on me. These weren’t coloured sugar, these were not drugs, these were magical. Possibly even alchemical substances. From what I read, which was mostly urban fantasy books, these would probably be alchemical items, since magic items tended to not be used up.

  I handed David his drink, and he sipped it slowly as the world outside became darker and a few more people showed up.

  Everyone asked about the new person, and those who knew would mention Silvia like she was a celebrity of this little… community… pack?

  Most of them ordered big drinks, but only a few seemed to regularly have blue menu items. Those who looked a bit more adventurous.

  “Hey!” Lorenz shouted, suddenly returning to the bar section of the building. “Where’s E-lis’s tip jar?” he said, walking up to the bar.

  “These people aren’t paying for these drinks,” I said, blinking.

  “Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have a tip jar! I’m sure we have a spare jar in the back. Why don’t I go get it for you?” he asked.

  “How can they tip if they don’t have a price to go off?” I asked.

  “Really? That’s the question you’re asking right now?” he said, giving me a winning smile.

  He kind of had a point, and kind of didn’t at the same time. “Maybe for the first few shifts, I could be tipped with knowledge?” I asked.

  Lorenz smiled. “Now, tell me, on a scale of one to ten, how stupid was David’s face as you found out?”

  “Oh, so, you were in on the joke and didn’t tell me?” I said, folding my arms and looking down my nose at him.

  “To be honest, I didn’t think it was going to work. I thought for sure you saw me transform back after we beat that guy and were fully on board.”

  “Fully on board? I really shouldn’t be,” I said, putting my hand to my chin.

  “To be honest, I think most normal people wouldn’t be, but there’s a certain subset of people, who when offered something like this, would jump all over it. People bored with the mundane or struggling to find purpose.”

  “Are you trying to spin this as a positive to flirt with me?” I asked, leaning towards him.

  He tsked. “Never flirt with those who can tell your mother anything.”

  “Is your mother a part of the community?” I asked.

  “Obviously,” Lorenz said, seemingly annoyed at the lack of flowery language and romantic subtext.

  “Obviously? Huh, so is this werewolf thing genetic? Semi-genetic?” I asked.

  Lorenz sighed. “Yes, it’s passed down through the bloodline.”

  “Interesting. What happens to a non-werewolf mother expecting a werewolf child?” I asked, now curious.

  “The child is a werewolf, but the mother will not be.”

  “Wait, David said that no werewolf wanted to man the bar. Wouldn’t the… community have non-werewolf, married-in members to fill that role? Possibly an alcohol hating mom who’d watch everyone’s consumption closely.”

  “Mostly, werewolves get married to other werewolves and mages, those who stand a rank or two h
igher in our little global power ladder. It’s rare for a werewolf to socialize with a non-magical person.”

  “Global power ladder? Holy cow, it’s a regular masquerade going on here.” I looked at everyone at the bar currently.

  “I mean, it’s mostly just to make sure one job is done to satisfaction. Not like there’s a massive cover-up deal.”

  “What’s the one job?”

  “Oh, did you not even get told why we’re here?” Lorenz asked.

  I shook my head, leaning in close to hear his answer.

  “Well, that’s unimportant at the moment. Can I get a Shadow Strike?” Lorenz responded.

  I huffed, pouting a little bit as I flipped to the blue menu part and looked for the powders I needed.

  As I searched for the right powder, I suddenly noticed Anderson at my side. “Gah!”

  “This is what you want,” he handed me a container, “and I feel I must warn you, Lorenz has… a reputation for womanizing.”

  I nodded, and Anderson stood up. I did, too, and started to mix the Shadow Strike drink.

  “So, uh, can you tell me what the one job is?” I asked the older-looking man.

  “At first, the community existed for the shared goal of protection from the greater population. As they forgot about us, something more pressing appeared. Portals started to form around the world, entering the plane of Earth from a rocky cavernous place, where creatures of stone roam. Other things like to traverse to get to new areas.”

  “So, you’re like supernatural border guards?”

  “If any state’s immigration policy was kill on sight, yes.” Anderson went back to take his seat.

  The Shadow Strike had this inky liquid mixed with, what else? Vodka. “God, you guys sure love your vodka,” I said.

  “It’s kinda hard to get a proper buzz when you’re sobering up two point five times faster than a normal human.”

  “Two point five? I thought you only had two livers.”

  “You really think there wouldn’t be more to that than just two forms? Both forms are stronger than regular, and thus it stands to reason so are their functions.”