Wolf and Hood

4- Proposal

"Patience is not my virtue, Miss Hooman," he tutted. "Are we planning on having that discussion? Or did you invite me in for other reasons?" His gaze slid to hers, watching her green eyes widen and her mouth part into a little 'o' before collecting herself with a cough. It's too easy.

"I'm not discussing anything further until you sign the NDA." Fingers punched the keyboard with force. "Just give me a minute to print this off. It seems my secretary fell off a bridge or got kidnapped or something..." she muttered the last bit to herself.

"I could recommend an excellent one."

"So you can insert your little spies into my space? No, thank you," she snapped, turning her focus back to the task at hand.

Not as stupid as I hoped.

Thinking it unwise to poke the hissy redhead further, he continued his hunt for magical items in silence. Anything that could give him a handle on this woman and a clue as to the why. Why was his pack being targeted?

Having sensed magic at the warehouse, he returned the following evening with bolt cutters and a small crew to inspect it. But the warehouse was empty, and the scent faded. His sole lead now was the building owners, the Hoodman Group, and at the helm, chairwoman Elenor. A goliath in both the supernatural and business world. They were old money in this city. An empire with a deep, extensive network of their own. He liked to think he knew almost every underground system, shady deal and creature lurking in the city's depths, but information on the Hooman Group was sparse and riddled with speculation.

It was a real puzzler. They had no quarry with witches. Their clans had maintained a respectful distance in the past. Well, whatever peace they had shared, he'd just thrown a grenade on the field with this little stunt.

Vincent had considered it was possible an unrelated magic user had used that spot, knowing it was owned by the large coven. In fact, it was his first hunch, given their beef with the vulture clan. He'd spent several months giving the witches the benefit of the doubt, digging into old family feuds and anyone related to those they'd whacked. But after months with no leads, they lost another wolf... Michael. A loyal pack member who lived on the Upper West Side and ran several restaurants for him. It was a devastating loss, and with it, Vincent's patience snapped. He spent another month meticulously preparing for this takeover. Now it was time to rattle some cages- see if any skeletons popped out.

He skimmed a wall of white built-in bookshelves at the back, cluttered with popular investing books, pottery, and a few framed family photos. He recognized a younger version of the Chairwoman smiling with the Heiress, in a graduation cap, but it was the one beside it that struck his eye. A little girl with long strawberry blonde hair, giggling on the lap of a ginger haired man- presumably the girl's father, and a woman with long white blonde hair standing behind them, poised stiffly, but with a warm smile. The little girl's green eyes sparkled.

"Is this you?" His fingers reached, curling around the worn wooden frame, drawing the picture closer for inspection. The edges looked distressed, like it had been picked up many times.

"Don't!" She stood up, chair rolling back to hit the wall with a dramatic effect. "I'll ask you again to not touch my things."

He could almost hear the growl in her voice. Then he felt it, just a small prickle across his skin. An itchy sensation, as the surrounding air thrummed. Magic. A similar sensation to when he imposed his aura on others, but this was different then the dense pressure of his power; it was like a static charge, quick and fleeting, that set his instincts on edge.

Posture stiffening, he braced himself as she stomped toward him, waiting for her to call the elements. To burn or freeze him where he stood. Or perhaps she was the sneaky sort of witch to slip a serum between his lips. He was curious how she'd get it there. Instead, she ripped the picture frame from his hand and placed it back with care on the shelf before pinning him with a glare.