Free The Finding by Nicky Charles

calm
down. He was safe in his self-made fortress. The guards he had
hired did an excellent job protecting him against any threat...
Well, any human threat.
    Life would be
simpler if he could just inform them to be on the lookout for
werewolf assassins, but of course that wasn’t possible. Should he
ever reveal what he was truly afraid of, he’d be locked up in an
insane asylum so fast his head would spin. No one really believed
in werewolves. Well, no one except himself and the late Anthony
Greyson.
    Just before
Greyson’s accidental death, the man had revealed an obsession for
finding a werewolf pack. Now, a lawyer of his repute would normally
have scoffed at the old man’s preposterous idea if it wasn’t for
one simple fact. He, Leon Aldrich, had observed a young woman named
Melody Greene actually turn into a wolf just hours before.
    So yes, he knew werewolves existed, but he had no proof to
substantiate his claim; the one picture that might have added some
veracity to his story had mysteriously disappeared, much to his
ire. Therefore, keeping his own counsel was the best course at this
point in time. That wasn’t to say he was willing to forget the
whole incident. In fact, he was actively conducting research on the
supposedly mythical creatures; a thorough knowledge of an opponent
always made for the best defence.
    That the wolves
would attack again, he had no doubt. Greyson had been babbling
about some werewolf law called the Keeping just before he died.
Since then, carefully sifting fact from fiction had revealed such a
law did exist and called for the elimination of any human who
discovered the truth. With this in mind, Aldrich took every
precaution to keep the beasts at bay. If he now had to live the
life of a recluse, so be it. One day he would triumph over them; he
had plans in place.
    A flashing
light caught his eye; he’d had all calls held while he talked to
Swanson. Activating his voice mail, he picked up a pen in
preparation for taking any salient notes.
    “Hey, Aldrich!
This is Nate Graham.”
    Aldrich
grimaced when he heard the voice, despising the casual manner in
which the man addressed him, but willing to overlook the fact,
since the fellow did seem to be making some progress in
straightening out the mess in Nevada. Narrowing his eyes, he
listened to what the man had to say.
    Once the basic
information had been delivered, Nate began his usual whining for
more money. “I’ll get back to you in a few days and let you know
how the situation develops. If you want me to keep working out
here, then you need to finance it. I’m not sitting on a pile of
money like you are. Talk to you later, Aldie.”
    “Talk to you
later, Aldie—indeed!” Aldrich shuddered at over-familiarity of the
phrase, but made a notation to have Ms. Matthews take care of the
financial matter. He’d known Nate back when they were both still
little better than street rats. He’d risen above his lowly
beginnings, but Nate continued to swim in the sewer. Ah well, it
took contacts in all kinds of places to keep things running
smoothly and Nate was good at leg work.
    Turning his
chair, he accessed his computer and pulled up the Nevada file; a
leftover business venture from his early days. Several times, he’d
considered letting the business go as it no longer suited his
present image, but some quixotic bit of nostalgia had him hanging
on to it. After all, Dollar Niche had been operating successfully
up until Greyson’s death and his own hospitalization.
Unfortunately, about that time, he’d let things slide, thinking the
company was in competent hands. He’d been wrong. A steady drop in
the profit margin had come to light during the last audit and Nate
was investigating the source of the problem. Aldrich had his
suspicions, but knew better than to act without cold hard
facts.
    He closed the
Nevada file and turned to the electronic chess game he was playing.
Steepling his fingers, he narrowed his eyes and played out the
possible