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Vincent Moonlight stirred awake in the early hours of the morning. He had spent most of the night deep in his thoughts, and had not been able to sleep until at least 3 AM. Going by the dim white light from the hotel room blinds, it was still much too early for him to be awake. He felt around the small bedside table for the lamp, and it was there he found his nuisance. The black hotel landline was flashing a green indicator light and sending a rough buzz long from the table to his bed-frame. He remembered he had put it on vibrate mode, and picked up the receiver.

"Yes?" he answered with a crabby tone.

"This is Naomi" said the voice on the other end.

Vincent whipped up the duvet and switched the receiver to his other ear.

"Naomi" he mustered a softer sound "I almost thought you wouldn't-"

"Where?" Naomi cut in.

After processing the question, Vincent replied "Quebec"

"When?" she asked.

"11:30. Naturally, I should pick you up first thing in the morning" he instructed.

"Do not. Send me a ticket." She paused. "A return ticket, specifically. "

"Oh, of course. Thank you-"

There was a blip sound from the landline, and the voice was gone.

Vincent Moonlight moved from his bed, and raised the massive window blinds all the way to the top. He smiled down at a beautiful morning.


Naomi didn't understand the laxity humans had enjoyed with these rideshare services. "You're really getting into a car with a complete stranger? And what happens if he drives off a cliff?" she analysed one time. "It's the same with taxis! I mean, getting into any car is a risk on it's own Naomi, even yours. " Charlotte had answered. "Yes, and I'd imagine getting into a non-regulated vehicle does something to reduce that risk? I don't know about you, but if I'm going to die either way, I'd sure feel a whole lot better knowing I at least did everything right" Naomi scoffed. How did humans handle such everyday risks when they didn't have any powers or abilities to fall back on if things went bad?

An Uber had just dropped her off at the Richardson International Airport, and every waking second felt like a ticking time bomb. She would never try that again. At the Check-In counter, Naomi flashed the ticketing officer an email from a sender named vinlighting@titan.com. The officer went to work on her computer while Naomi took in the ambience of the Departures hall. It was a hot Friday afternoon, and it seemed like half of the dainty town's occupants were looking to escape from Winnipeg for the Weekend. Some were having trouble trying to heave the mountains of their luggage to check-in and others were literally riding their four wheeled boxes to their boarding gates. Another group sat on the cold steel airport chairs at the left wing of the hall, their listless eyes would tell anyone that their flights must've been delayed for at least 2 days.

"Ma'am", a voice beckoned. Naomi swung her head, slightly alarmed. That was not the voice of the ticketing officer.

Before her stood a tall man, dressed in a sharp blue and red vest, sporting a white undershirt. He made a gesture with her boarding pass to follow him.

"Mm. This way, Madam" he said.

"The boarding gates are that way." she defied.

"No madam. Your lounge is this way." he pointed at the gold crown visible in her boarding pass. Business Class.

She rolled her eyes. "Vincent. How typical" she mumbled. But she followed the man, and knew within herself that she had conveniently neglected to check the details of the ticket.

Naomi had never been inside an airport lounge before, but she remembered her dad talking about doing so frequently. After being assigned a red leather sofa made to seat three people, 2 shots of cocktails, 3 continental breakfasts to choose from and for entertainment, a behemoth of a 4K TV with surround sound and pictures clearer than real life, she understood why her richer friend Charlotte, mandated a 4 hours before the actual flight, timeline. There was only one other person in the room, an indescript man, Naomi guessed around 30 years old from his beards and jawline, that sipped what she also guessed whiskey silently from a flask.

The waiter returned to Naomi. "Madam, my sincerest apologies, as no doubt you have noticed, the noise from air traffic here has been elevated." Naomi noticed no such thing. "Please take these. I understand it is best noise cancellation has to offer." In the box was a pair of Mapple headphones, worth over $900. It sent Naomi into deep thought. 2 days ago, she was in a fulfilling her career as a Professor for Literary Art and History, now she was being served class breakfast on her way to her ex's wedding. Even worse, it wasn't even really a wedding. More like a werewolf mating ritual. She had never been to one of those, and hoped she wouldn't have to see Vincent get undressed or something. That would be too much to handle. She put on the headphones, and contemplated and panicked, if it was already too late to deny Vincent's request.


Naomi awoke to the uneasy sensation of a thousand tiny pins banging on her eardrums. She lifted the headphones off her head, and twirled the bulky appliance near her thighs. Apparently, Noise cancellation needs to do better, she thought.

"Oh, hello." The voice was heavy, not suited for pleasantries with a stranger on a hot day such as this. It was the timbre of a voice that would command a police precinct, or take a billion dollar corporation in a new fresh and innovative direction. Naomi was more intrigued than startled by the man. She was asleep, but her senses informed her when he had stopped drinking his whiskey, and moved from his earlier position near the windows, now one chair after her three-seated sofa. She connected eyes with the stranger.

"Hello?"she asked in a what do you want manner.

"I hope I didn't wake you. The sun was getting irritating on that other end", he smiled.

"Nope. I can't take a proper nap. After a couple years teaching, I think my body just forgot how to." she lied.

The man chuckled for a bit.

"Actually, I have to confess. I lied. I was really hoping you would wake up. In fact, I was just killing myself for not talking to you before you went asleep" the man winked.

"Why is that?" said Naomi. She didn't realise herself that her voice had taken a softer, sultry tone.

"Goodness." The man looked appalled. "I thought all men blessed the day they spoke to a lombacious woman" the man delivered.

"Interesting. Well, you are speaking. For speaking sakes, of course." she replied with a neutral tone. Up closer, the man looked to be around the same age as Vincent.

What was unmistakable about him was his powerful jaw, and the way he used all mandibles to speak and enunciate his words.

Under his cleanly shaped sideburns was dragon tattoo that ran from his upper neck into what she thought would end at his lower pecs. She wondered what the rest would look like. The style of the head and wings suggested the tattoo artist was very talented.

"That's because you haven't heard my next line yet." the man grinned. As if acting on some dastardly impulse, the man suddenly opened his mouth. The entire mouth; tongue, uvula, gums and a permanent set of 32 teeth. Before Naomi could react, he pointed to the inside of the mouth, touching his canine. And Naomi understood. A canine tooth in humans was about 3cm long on average, but his looked to be at least 8.5cm, almost triple that length. And the shape and sinister curvature was eerily similar to that of a wolf.

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