Cynthia's Moon Ch. 01

I've become soft, Markus thought. It'd been so long since he protected someone aggressively, or fought at all, that his tactics and moves were undisciplined. He was disgusted by his performance, despite when the final assault was made, Markus had injured Cynthia's attacker into unconsciousness. He took his human form once more, and called the authorities to pick him up as soon as she fled the scene and he gained control of himself.

Proudly, he stood above his unconscious opponent and quietly studied his face while he was without his wits. When the perfume of Cynthia lingered in the alley, he was drawn from his deep thoughts of rage and violence and urgently met the mouth of the alleyway. He looked down the sidewalk both ways in seeking her. Guiding himself casually from the dead end, his sure and steady walk moved him right past Cynthia's building, where her scent lingered the most in the thick and wet air. He knew she had made it home, and was safe for the night.

The next morning he was there as always to watch her leave, and she was right on time and dressed in another pencil skirt and blouse. The lobby guard walked outside with her, standing out in front of the door to watch her walk down to the cafe to give Cynthia a sense of security while she headed to work.

Markus could see the assault on her face. That vacant look in her eyes, her shoulders down, even in the way she walked with tension running through her spine, and her hair veiling her face from the public, as opposed to being secured back like it normally was. Even if her attacker had not succeeded in claiming her, she seemed less of the woman that he had seen of her for a year. The dark circles and the red veins in her eyes had told him she had cried herself to sleep last night. Only for a moment, his heart sank into his stomach before rising over once more in a fit of rage and protective instinct.

Don't cry, my love. It won't happen again. I won't let it.

He thought to himself, and wished that she could hear him. He wanted nothing more than to let her know that she was safe. He should have killed that motherfucker, after ripping his claws through his testicles and made him choke on his own fucking scrotum. His hands clenched at the wheel of his truck, growling deeply at the thought of Cyn being affected like this by some depraved, horny bastard.

Throughout the day, Cynthia was in a haze at work. Drowning herself in the routine she had known like the back of her hand, and she tried her best to suppress her encounter. But the hollow wedge resting at the core of her emotions bled over time, making it harder and harder to endure a normal day. At lunch, she was focused away from her gloom when her girl friend Sheila approached her table in the lounge, and dropped an unfinished and thick bound report on the table that thumped loud enough to snap her out of it.

"You have been out of it all day, and you look tired, Cyn. What is going on?" Sheila was french and also a werewolf, and she befriended Cyn when she first started working at the Consulate. Cyn hesitated to say anything, but eventually sighed and spoke softly to her.

"I was attacked on the way home last night, Sheila." Sheila's eyes went wide.

"Merde! Are you alright? Did you get hurt?" Cyn rubbed her eyes to her and shook her head.

"No. Someone stopped him before he could do anything. Another of our kind."

"Who was it?" Sheila asked, bordering on the edge of seeming anxious and thrilled. Cynthia shook her head and shrugged.

"I didn't stick around. I just ran home."

Sheila scoffed. "You should have waited."

"Oh? I stick around so this other could possibly do the same as the first and try to fuck me?" Cynthia scoffed back at her and shook her head. "I'm not a fool."

Sheila didn't think about it that way, slowly drifting herself away from the heroic fantasy of Cynthia's encounter and focused on the grimier facts of her nearly being raped. She placed her hand over Cyn's to comfort her.

"I am sorry, Cynthia. I did not mean to insult you."

Cynthia sighed and nodded to her.

"It's alright, Sheila."

"Do you want me to walk home with you tonight?"

Cyn hesitated, and then shook her head.

"No, I can't let this run my life. I'll be fine."

By the time the Consulate was closing and Cynthia was putting her coat on, she wished she had taken up Sheila's offer. It was two blocks down and half a block to her building, and she held a can of pepper spray in her hand this time. But she stood at the door of the Consulate with fear radiating through her. The thought alone of walking out into the evening brought back the horror like it was happening again. Her mind spiraled into every detail like it was happening all over again.

Weres had impeccable memory, and she was recalling every primal urge and action of the man, even up until the point another were had come into the alley way. Her heat scent could attract every werewolf for half a mile, and she had little doubt in her mind that the other only wished to conquer her. The breath she gently sucked in shuddered through her lungs, making her feel smaller, fragile, and uncertain of herself.

Eventually, she had lingered too long, and the security guard spoke up, unaware of what she had gone through the previous evening.

"You need to leave now, Cynthia. Good night." She looked over her shoulder at him and nodded, pushing the glass door open and headed down the lit sidewalk. Every small breeze under her hair made her glance around, each step was firmer than the next, as if the sound of her resolute movement would ward off any potential attacker. Though, with the clear Pacific sky overhead and a rising moon, Cynthia's senses were heightened. Every life signature noted, every dark corner searched from her usual path. Yet, she could still feel eyes upon her and it hurried her pace all that quicker.

Markus was not across the street in his truck as usual, knowing that she would instinctively be searching the streets for any suspicious watchers this night. He was perched on the building next to the Consulate while waiting on her to walk home. He wore a black long coat that was left open and sheltered his chiseled frame from view. Mother Luna was being kind to him this night. He waited until she was on the move by about ten paces before he followed, walking along the edge of each building in path of her condo, where the night veiled him completely as he shadowed her from above.

It's OK, my Love. I'm watching over you.

Cynthia's brisk walking had been without any event, even when every heart beat of hers was thudding louder in her ears and quicker than the last amidst her anxiety. Markus would leap from edge to edge of each building in flawless silence, keeping up with Cynthia's pace with little effort involved. He searched every alleyway from above and ahead of her, making sure no life signatures were there to threaten her walk home. She saw that the lobby guard was waiting for her outside when she was close enough, and that filled her with instant relief the rest of the way home. When Markus saw her safe inside of her building, he knew it was time for her to know that she was protected.

When she made it to work Friday morning, a vase of Arabian jasmine flowers had been waiting on her desk with a red apple and a small note. Finding it particularly odd to receive such a gift, she opened the note.

''I protected you two nights ago. If you would like to know me, please meet me at the cafe on Saturday morning at 10 am. Markus.''

Her throat clenched up, wondering just how this werewolf knew where she worked, or that she visited the cafe every day. For the rest of the day, her head was swimming with the possibility that this wasn't safe, and if she should go, or if he was waiting for a moment when she was vulnerable to attack her. Sheila told her to go, and that she had nothing to fear in broad daylight surrounded by many people. That was a good point.

By evening, back at her condo, she placed the flowers on her living room table, and ate the apple for dinner. She gently fingered nervously at her rings, wondering whether to accept his invitation or not. She paced over it up until about ten minutes before bedtime, considering the dangers and possibilities. He didn't have to send the flowers or a note, which she saw as non-invasive. But knowing that she worked at the Consulate, that made her nervous that she was being watched, and she didn't like the idea of that.

Eventually, she removed her rings and went to bed, uncertain of her decision still.