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Three

Blair

Next Monday

“Ms. Strand, I’m so sorry.” Embarrassed to have been caught sleeping on what was supposed to be my first day on the job, I apologized profusely, while silently offering a plea to the moon goddess that I had not just blown my chance.

Ignoring the lingering pain, I shot to my feet, nervously trying to smoothen the creases out of my outfit - a light green pinstripe shirt which I’d paired with black pants, and ballerina flats. Except for the shirt - which was one of the only two I owned at the moment, everything else was the same as I’d worn last week and the only clothes I had in addition to a pair of tights, hoodie and sneakers. The clothes had all cost a fortune and bought from high end shops but due to overuse in the last month, they had begun to show signs of wear and tear.

I’d given myself a haircut - and botched it badly. To conceal the uneven edges, I’d put the entire mess up in a bun at the back, but of course, in my short nap, a few strands had slipped free and now hung over my face, evidence of my failure.

If my mate, Resse, saw me now, he’d be hard pressed to believe that the scraggly creature that was my current self bore any links to his perfect, well-groomed wife.

“It’s fine. And please call me Lucy.” Her sharp gaze settled on my face for a moment. “Are you … ?” she trailed off and her forehead puckered in a small frown of concern. “Are you feeling better?”

I forced a smile. “Yes, yes of course. Totally back to normal. Last time I’ll ever try climbing stairs in heels while drunk, though.” My small, fake laugh sounded forced, even to my own ears.

Lucy gave me a polite smile but I didn’t miss how her eyes narrowed on me just a fraction. Her scrutiny put me on edge.

“Okay,” she said, “Let’s go to my office to fill in the necessary paperwork, then I’ll show you around and introduce you to the rest of the staff. Then it’s off to security to set you up with an employee id and pass.”

My heart skipped at the thought of being the center of attention and I opened my mouth to beg off then shut it right back without uttering a word. I couldn’t afford to piss Lucy or any one else off by creating a misunderstanding, so I would just have to endure it and hope I don’t succumb to a full blown panic attack.

I followed Lucy into the work area and stood by awkwardly while she got everyone’s attention.

“Everyone, this is Blair, our new research assistant.” Her voice rang out in the quiet space. “She’s joined us today and I hope we can all make her feel at home.”

All eyes swung to me and I paled, resisting the urge to lower my head. I dug my nails into the palm of my hand to keep from fidgeting, though my legs began to wobble as the edges of panic gripped me.

It didn't help that I couldn't use my shifter senses and could only rely on my human senses which didn't help me in this situtation. With Trish, I would have been able to tell if any one in this room was Lorekind - which, I'm certain at least one of them had to be. Though most Lorekind (witches, shifters, vampires and demons, phantoms, etc,) lived in secluded communities, away from the prying human eyes, there were some who preferred to live hidden among humans, living and working alongside them without disclosing their true nature.

New Orleans, where I was from, was filled with people like that. I'd known entire witches covens and shifter packs existing side by side with humans, it had even become the norm to find the odd vampire or demon here and there.

So, I was sure there were some like that here and it made me anxious. I would need to be extra careful to not give myself away. Though the witch who had provided the spell had assured me that I would be safe as long as I as I didn't shift, I was still terrified of being found out.

Don’t panic…don’t panic…please…don’t. Just smile and say hello…that’s all you have to do.

“And on that note, please guys, do tone down your weirdness until she gets used to our own special brand of crazy. We don’t want her running off before the week is out.”

Her joke was greeted with a smattering of laughs.

“Don’t worry, Lucy, we’ll do our best.” A tall guy with a mop of messy brown curls called out.

“Says the biggest culprit.” a plump girl who looked to me in her early twenties, retorted, jabbing an elbow into the guy’s side. He made an exaggerated sound of pain and doubled over.

“Christ, Ellie, your elbows feel like razors.” He groaned, rolling his eyes at her and she elbowed him again.

“Shut up, Tinman.”

“Children, please.” Lucy rolled her eyes and pointed a manicured nail at the two. “Don’t make me put you in the corner, again.”

I blinked at the weird exchange, fascinated at the relaxed atmosphere, tension draining away. This sort of banter and casual conversation would never have happened at my old workplace and the contrast stuck.

“Welcome, Blair,” A blonde lady with smiling blue eyes leaned close. “It’s great to have you working with us. I’m Avery. ”

“Thanks,” I whispered.

“Well, now that we’ve got that out of the way, let’s get to paperwork. You can learn everyone’s names as the day goes by.” Lucy turned her attention back to me and motioned me towards her office. Grateful to be done with the hard part, I managed a small smile and a wave then headed there.

“Don’t mind the crazy, you’ll get used to it, and I assure you, everyone here is nice and willing to help, so if you run into any difficulties, just ask for help.”

“I will.” I took the same seat as before. “And once again, thank you for giving me this opportunity.”

“Don’t thank me just yet,” Another small smile played across her mouth. “Once you get an idea of the sort of work you’ll have to do, you just might change your mind. I told you it’s mostly gruntwork, right?”

“I won’t change my mind,” I replied with conviction. “I’ll do whatever is necessary.”

“Yes, well.” She sat and pushed a stack of forms across the table to me. “Fill these out, it’s just basic info that we need to enter into the database.” She noticed the look of apprehension that crossed my face at the mention of a database. “Only employees with special clearance can access it, and right now, that’s just myself and Mac, the CEO.”

I’d looked up articles on GenPro at the public library’s computer in preparation for the job and thus I knew who she was talking about. Mac Walsh, award winning Microbiologist, 30 years old, founder of GenPro, a medical research facility, single, born in Iowa, Harvard graduate, with a long list of achievements and accolades.

I remembered watching an interview he’d given on the Daily show, about a year ago and he’d struck me as a handsome, brusque giant of a man. His responses had been clipped and straight to the point and he’d abruptly dismissed any line of questioning he didn’t care for.

Now, I realized I hadn’t seen or heard anything about him since I’d been here.

Just as the thought crossed my mind, there was a small commotion and Lucy’s door flew open and the man himself stalked in.

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