Page 3 of Fenrir

The bottom lock slid open, and the knob turned. A shadow fell across the floor as the hallway lights spilled in. A short, lean figure in a navy blue suit slid inside the apartment and closed the door behind himself, being sure to lock the door.

Good. Harder for him to escape.

Fenrir almost laughed. He was sure that was exactly why the guy had locked the door. So that the person he thought was in the apartment wouldn’t be able to escape him. Too bad she wasn’t there.

The man moved into the dim hallway light and listened for a moment. He stepped onto the carpet, and Fenrir flicked on the lamp beside him. The man jumped and swung Fenrir’s direction, his eyes wide and confused. In his gloved hands, the man held a revolver. He pointed it at Fenrir.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Melissa isn’t here,” Fenrir replied.

The man looked down the hall toward the bedroom and back at Fenrir.

“What is this?” he demanded.

Fenrir sighed. “This is you not heeding the order of protection she got against you. This is you not understanding that when she left and traveled halfway across the country to get away, it meant she was done with all your abusive shit. This is you not being able to read; apparently, when you got the anonymous texts warning you that if you came near her again or tried to hurt or threaten her, there would be consequences. Those texts were from me, by the way.”

He raised the gun. “Where is she?”

Fenrir snorted. “Do you think I sat here for three hours waiting for you to show so I could tell you where she is? This is how this is going to go, Garrett. You are going to leave her alone. No, more than that. You are going to forget all about her. And if you can show us that you can do that for the next year at the very least, we will let you live. That means no calls. No texts. No showing up at her place of work. No harassing her family or friends. No hiring PIs and off-duty detectives to find her. No, dragging her into court over bullshit you say she stole from you. Nothing. You do that, you live. You don’t. Well…”

Garrett cocked the hammer back. “I could just kill you now, and no one would give a crap. You broke into her apartment. You could be a burglar.”

Fenrir sighed and shook his head. “All right. We’ll do this your way.”

Before the man could blink, Fenrir leapt across the room, wrenched the gun from the man’s hand, breaking it. Fenrir kicked him in the back and sent him flying across the room and crashing into the chair Fenrir had just exited.

The man cried out as Fenrir broke the handle from the gun and tossed the two pieces in opposite directions.

The man rolled over, cradling his broken hand, and tried to back away from Fenrir.

Fenrir stalked over and loomed over the man. The scent of fear and urine filled Fenrir’s nostrils, and he snarled.

Garrett had pissed himself. How cute.

Fenrir crouched next to him and straightened Garrett’s tie. “I understand that you are considered a big deal in the human world. Lots of trust fund money. Important family name. Tons of people who follow your every move on social media. But I don’t give a fig for any of that. And the people I work for, well, they don’t either. And they, the people I work for, have more money and more influence than you can even begin to dream of. So here’s how this is going to go. You are going to forget Melissa, as I said before. And if you do, like a good little human. We will let you live, but if you don’t, we won’t. We will drag you somewhere no one will find you, and we will kill you slowly. Painfully. Probably over the course of weeks or months. Then, we will take your body and put it somewhere that Lucifer himself doesn’t even go. Do you understand?”

Garrett nodded vigorously.

“Good.” Fenrir patted him on the head. “And just so you know I’m serious, and so you don’t forget our little conversation, I’m going to give you something to remember me by, okay?”

Before Garrett could croak out an answer, Fenrir let his beast emerge. His eyes went yellow, and his fangs and claws elongated.

Garrett screamed, and Fenrir’s beast howled in delight. He loved it when they screamed.

* * *

“It’s done,”Fenrir said into his cell phone as he wiped the blood from the back of his hand onto his athletic shorts.

“Good,” said Loki. “Do we need a cleanup crew?”

“Yup. I made a mess that I’m sure will scare your client into prolonged nightmares.”

“I’m on it.” There was a pause. “Thank you for taking care of that for me. I know you don’t like doing it, but my client really has been through a lot with that guy and-”

“Not a problem.” It was a problem, of course. Fenrir was tired of being the monster, but as he’d been told so many times over the centuries, everyone had their role to play.

“Where are you headed now?”

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