"And you are?" she asked, not looking up from the stacks of paper on her desk.
"Were," he said, watching her scribble on a recently blank pad.
"A were what? Everyone who comes in here is a were," she said, finally staring at him. "Something aquatic, I'm guessing."
"Why would you say that?"
"Well, the bathing cap, the goggles and the fishnet. I mean it just makes sense."
"No, those things have nothing to do with what I am."
She sat up straighter. "Well, it's noon and I'm here until five, so take your time. It's not like I have anything else to do but wait for you to tell me what you are. Just remember that you don't get tagged, until you tell me."
"What's your name?" he asked.
"It's Mary."
"Like in Merry Christmas?"
"No like in the mother of the son of the non existent god."
"Ah. I didn't realize that myth was still in play."
"It comes and goes," she said, pushing some papers to the side. "What's your name?"
"Elias."
"Biblical?"
"Not even close."
"And what exactly are you, Elias?"
"Wolf."
"No, seriously," she said, shaking her head. "What?"
"Wolf."
"I've seen a thousand werewolves and you don't look like any of them," she said. "They are body builder huge, strong, tough, tattooed, and well, let's just say that if you're a wolf, you're either the runt of the litter, or your not pureblood."
He fidgeted. "Maybe."
"Maybe what?" she said, rubbing her eyes. "Just tell me."
"Bitten."
"No way!"
"Way."
"That's a major crime. Did they catch who did it?"
He shook his head.
"I'm sorry."
He nodded.
"Are you part of a pack?"
"What do you think?"
"Independent?"
He nodded again, and pulled on the netting of his shirt.
"You know how dangerous it is not to be pack, don't you?"
"I do."
"So you were a human before you were bitten?"
"Yes."
"How long ago did it happen?" she asked, writing furiously.
"Three years ago."
She put down her pen. "You're still alive, after three years without a pack?"
"Obviously," he sighed. "I mean, I'm standing here."
"Right. Sorry, it's just that independents don't usually..."
"...live that long?"
She nodded. "And you're appearance makes you...stand out, a bit."
"I don't like t-shirts."
"Do you have any friends?" she asked.
"One," he said.
"Is he like you?"
"She's not."
"Your friend is a girl?"
"Woman."
"I see. Does she know about..."
"She does," he said, cutting her off again.
"Do you want me to find a pack that will take you? I can do that, you know. You just have to ask."
"Not necessary, but thank you for the offer."
"What can I do to help you?"
"Tag me," he said.
She busied herself, opening drawers, using a rubber stamp to pound on official looking papers. Then she uncapped a pen and handed it to him. "Sign here, and there, and there," she said, pointing at each line with her finger.
He did as she asked.
"Do you still have a human family?"
"No."
"I'm sorry," she said, again.
"It's okay," he said. "Not a problem."
"Was that your choice, or theirs?"
"Mine."
She nodded. "I understand. "I can find a safe place for you to stay, if you like. At least for awhile."
"No thank you," he said, holding out his arm.
The two implanted tags didn't hurt as much going in as he thought they would. He put the blue tag, on a chain, over his head and let it drop. "Thanks."
"They'll kill you, if they find you."
"I know that," he said, signing more papers.
"At least the tags will let you travel," she said, hopefully. "Do you know where you're going?"
"No."
She put copies of all of his papers into a large white envelope and handed it to him. "Don't lose these."
"I'll do my best not to," he said, smiling at her.
"I hope they find who did this to you."
"It's in the past and what is...just is."
"I want to stop him from doing it to anyone else," she said, handing him her card. "My personal number is on the back. Call me anytime, day or night, if you get into trouble."
"Why are you being so nice t me?"
"How do you know I don't treat everyone the same way?"
"Do you?"
"No," she admitted.
He laughed, thanked her again, and turned toward the door.
"Be careful," she said, frowning.
"I'll do my best," he said, saluting her.
She watched him walk across the street and saw two huge men, in black leather jackets, come out of the shadows and start to follow him. She ran to the door and screamed, "ELIAS, RUN!"
"You can't save them all, Mary," said her boss, from the doorway of his office.
Mary growled, her eyes the golden color of the black panther that she was.
"Don't do it," said her boss. "Sit down and get back to work."
Mary snarled at him, but did as he asked. She knew he was simply looking out for her. She didn't like it, but she understood that it was the right thing to do. She sat at her desk, until the moment passed, then started sorting through one of the stacks of paper.
"Are you okay?"
Mary nodded and took a deep breath. She knew she couldn't save them all, but she wanted to.
Her boss placed a cup of black coffee on her desk, put his hand on her shoulder, then went back into his office.
She had to wait a bit before she could thank him. She told herself that, that was a close call. She needed to work on her control. She hadn't started to change like that in twenty years.
"It happens to all of us, Mary. It's okay," said her boss, knowing what she was thinking.
"Thanks, Mac," she said. She took a sip of coffee, just as a young woman walked up to her desk.
"Hi," she said. "My name's Margo. I'm here to get tagged.
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