Jagers Mate

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Jager silently followed the lone wolf who walked up ahead of him at a discreet distance. He kept his gaze locked on the other werewolf’s back while he wove his way through the people who shared the sidewalk in this busy section of downtown San Francisco. More than a few of the buildings that lined the street were restaurants, bars or nightclubs. Jager had followed the lone wolf out of one of said nightclubs.

He’d gone to the Hot Spot, which had been anything but after Leif, his brother-in-arms, had heard a rumor going around about a lone wolf trying to recruit other lone wolves for a new cause at this particular nightclub. Leif had come by this information from a bar he liked to frequent to pick up female werewolves who were unmated and wanted to share their beds for a bit of fun. In some ways, Leif’s womanizing paid off when he came across a bit of information such as this.

Jager watched the lone wolf duck into an alley between two buildings at the end of the street where most of the crowd had thinned. Increasing his speed, he quickly followed. Once he was inside the alley, Jager opened the front of his long black duster and brushed it to one side as he reached for the hilt of his sword. It made a slight hissing sound when he pulled it free of its scabbard. Taking a quick look behind him to make sure no mortals were able to see him from the opening into the alley, Jager stealthily walked halfway down the passage. It was quite dark, but with his keen werewolf sight, he could see just as well as if it were day time instead of night. Only one weak, exposed light bulb shone above a door that opened up onto the alley. His steps slowed when he caught the glint of light that suddenly flashed in his eyes. At the same time, he heard a sword being drawn.

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