The Society | Completed

Part 18

She never sleeps very well after a nightmare, and a glance at the clock informs her it's only 4 am.

She has three more hours before she needs to get ready, so she pulls her laptop out, an unsettled feeling in her stomach.

She's sitting in her office, glass door open, and working on a report when her ears pick up the click-clack of stiletto heels against the tiles near the elevators.

She furrows her brows, running through the whiteboard roster she saw on her way in.

Nobody is due to have any external meetings, and only some of the men are in today; it's a company holiday, so it's only really her and some of the other consultants bothered to come in.

The clicks get closer, and she rises in her chair, peering over the top of her glasses through the space of her door.

Her eyes widen when she lays eyes on the person approaching the door, looking around the room desperately.

She's about twenty-five stories up, and she doesn't fancy her chances of escaping through that glass.

She looks back out the door, wondering if she can escape before the woman gets to her.

Run Forest, run, Jane screeches, and Conrad decides to at least try to flee.

She slides out the door, glancing over her shoulder at the woman who hasn't looked up from her phone yet.

She starts sprinting down the hallway, hiding her scent as she skids into the lunchroom.

She goes right through it, heading out the other door and into the other corridor.

Moving even quicker - even though she can't hear the heels anymore - she scuttles into one of the conference rooms that there's a meeting currently in.

Everyone in it looks so tired that nobody acknowledges her, bar the consultant at the top of the room.

'You okay?' Mike mouths to her, and she gives him a wary thumbs up, slotting herself into the corner and holding the folder her report is in to her chest.

Her heart is beating fast, and she didn't expect it to.

She was normally good at keeping her panic in check because as a werewolf, a scent of terror was one of the main ones you didn't want to smell of.

After a minute, she calms down, and as soon as she takes a soothing breath, the door slams open.

"Rosser?" The lady roars, and Conrad inhales sharply, stepping out of her corner.

"Outside," Conrad hisses, storming past the lady.

She didn't want to be caught, but now that she is, she'll handle it and deal with it, without anyone else hearing about it.

The woman stops moving outside the conference room, and Conrad shakes her head.

"Nope, outside the building," Conrad snaps, stomping towards the elevators.

The woman has the decency to look embarrassed, joining her in the metal box.

Conrad doesn't want to disturb the meeting taking place, and she doesn't want her personal business told to the entire office population who were in attendance.

"Why are you here, Jeanne? I told you last week; I don't want to talk," Conrad grits out, folding her arms around her reports.

As soon as the elevator gets to the ground floor, Conrad runs over to the secretaries, handing her folder in for safekeeping.

"I'll be back in five," she promises the girl there, flashing her security pass before stomping out the door.

It's colder outside today, and she isn't happy.

She should have stopped to get her jacket, but that would have meant she had to deal with Jeanne for longer, who was never a pleasure to handle with for more than five minutes.

"They sent me to warn you," Jeanne sighs, her black cape cardigan almost reaching the floor.

"Who's they, Jeanne?" Conrad asks, raising an eyebrow as she leans against the wall near her office building.

"You know exactly who I'm talking about, don't play dumb. You and I both know you're far too smart for that act," Jeanne snaps, turning to face her.

"Why are they warning me? I don't care what they want, I'm not going to work for them," she argues, and Jeanne shakes her head, a strained laugh leaving her mouth.

"They know about your mate. They've caught up on the backlog, and you guys are expected on the stand tomorrow, no excuses. Someone was supposed to notify you yesterday, but nobody did. If you don't show up, you'll be dragged in," Jeanne explains, looking around.

"Why wasn't I notified?" Conrad asks, an expression of outrage contorting her usually calm features.

"I have no idea. You weren't ticked off, that's why I'm here. We might not be friends now, but I'm not going to let you be embarrassed like that," Jeanne responds, checking her phone.

"Shit, okay, they know I'm here. I have to go," Jeanne groans, her brows furrowed as she looks over her shoulder nervously.

"What time do I have to be there?" Conrad asks, walking with her in the direction of the road to hail her a cab.

"Eleven. Your mate knows, and he accepted the request to appear as long as he could bring his girlfriend. Don't look surprised when you get there," Jeanne hisses, sniffing the air for any other werewolves.

"There are none around here. There are one vampire and one witch on this entire business campus," Conrad mumbles, sticking her arm out for a cab.

"Please don't let yourself be dragged in. Show up. Text me when you get there, I'll bring you down to the courtroom myself," Jeanne adds, opening the cab door.

As she's about to get in, Conrad yanks her into a tight hug, burying her face in the shorter woman's hair.

"Thank you. I appreciate this," Conrad smiles faintly, and Jeanne rolls her eyes, patting her back.

"This doesn't mean we're friends," Jeanne calls out the window of the cab, a grin on her face.

Once Jean is out of sight, Conrad turns on her heel, her eyes scanning the courtyard.

She can smell an unfamiliar scent, and it doesn't match either of her supernatural friends who work nearby.

She had her week planned; she had two more days here before she had to leave, and she had been looking forward to the time in the human world, where everything seems more straightforward.

We can't not go. We have to go, Jane sighs.

The courts are eerie, and they make her uncomfortable.

She can't exactly place why, but it probably has something to do with the damp basement that the sessions are in, and the fifteen people staring at her for over an hour.

At least she has someone to share the scrutiny with, even if she doesn't want to even be in the same country as Atlas.

And Meg.

Meg being brought to the sessions almost guaranteed that she could secure a separation, because the general agreement in the family courts was keep the parents of children together as much as possible.

She isn't happy that she wasn't notified.

It's as if somebody was trying to show her up and make her look bad, because if Jeanne hadn't come along today, she wouldn't have known, and then she would have been marked as absent and fined.

Conrad sighs, brushing her hair over her shoulders and storming back into her building, taking her folder off the secretary and scanning her pass to get into the elevator.

"Fuck my life," she mutters, rubbing her temples.

A little shorter than usual, but I wanted to get something out today!

Big love!

- Aoife :) xx