Chapter 2; Old Friends

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Not even hiding the fact that I am rushing, I stand up swiftly and turn off my computer. The adrenaline is now running through my veins, and the side of me which is wolf is dying to get out and do his part. As always though, I keep him in his confines, and never let him even close to coming out unless absolutely necessary. The last time I had to shift on a mission, had been nearly seven years ago, and it didn't end well for the person I had been chasing.

I mutter a goodbye to the people I pass by in the office, and explain to the receptionist, who is surprised that I am leaving so soon after returning. I simply say with a slight grin to my expression, "I think I've found something, I should be back by lunch. Save me a sandwich." I tell her with no attempt to hide the affection to my tone.

The receptionist Lorraine, is a 54 year old woman, and the only person in this place that I can truly say that I like. She knows my every detail, save for the obvious one, which only 12 people in the world actually know about. From the birthday and middle names of my daughters, to the sandwiches I prefer at lunch, I'm pretty sure she even knows what size waist I am. I don't think the rest of the people in my branch could tell me my last name if I gave them several clues.

Sometimes I cant help but wonder what life would be like if the world knew what I was. The fact how deadly I am, the fact that I could tell when they were lying, that I can tell what move they are going to make before they even do, that I could tear their throats out without even thinking twice about doing so. Being an agent alone, makes me deadly, the fact that I am a werewolf, makes me lethal. I nod to a woman I recognise from somewhere or other, my mind is rushing too much at this time to be able to think of where and I chuckle just a little at this. Would she greet and smile at me if she knew what I truly was?

I catch the first bus that I find, and buy a ticket to get me as close to Kings Cross as it will go and jog from there to the station. I glance up at the clock which hangs from the ceiling, which reads just before half past nine. Plenty of time, I hope so anyway. I have no idea how this might turn out.

Honestly the station was a little overwhelming. In the three weeks since I had last entered this place, my nose had grown unaccustomed to the usual scents. There seemed to be a million and one at any single time, and it was both nerve wracking and exciting to smell at the same time. It challenged me to be able to keep track, and though it gave me a slight headache from trying to differentiate between as many of them as I could. It was different and exciting, had I been in wolf form, my tail would have wagged at the prospect.

Knowing better then to go straight to work in uncertain circumstances such as this one, I nip into the nearest bathroom. Taking my bag from my left side, I grab the pair of sunglasses I always keep in their, and apply with careful caution a small moustache. It is a crude disguise, but I tend to find that it is useful more then eighty percent of the time, and might buy me just a little bit of time in order to be able to scout out the area and find any escape routes that I might need. With a deep breath, I duck back out of the bathroom.

With one last addition to my disguise, I pull on a small beanie hat, which catches all of my hair and scrapes it back against my scalp, it would take someone to look very closely at me in order to recognise me right now. I'm pretty sure that even Evelyn would need to take a second glance at me to be sure that it was indeed me. Well that is what I try to aim for.

I sit down at a small coffee shop, smiling to the waitress who greets me. It is outside of busy times, so I am quickly able to find somewhere to sit and look around. I order a cup of coffee and a muffin, trying to make myself as inconspicuous as possible. I don't want to draw attention to myself, and just act as normally as I can. Despite the mixture of excitement and nervousness that is running through my system right now.

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