The Last Envelope

Hiking was about as much as Mich would let me do. Other than sex, but then she was always in control then. I was perfectly alright with that whole situation except of course the idea that she wanted to have my baby. But as of yet she hadn’t come down with anything such thing.

For days I caught Michaela thumbing a white envelope with the words ‘last’ on it.

I knew what it was. My last envelope, the one that would send me off on my way. She was tapping it on the table when I walked into the kitchen area. She was waiting on breakfast. I was going to cook but she waved me to sit down. “You know what this is?”

I sat down across from her and nodded. “The last mission.”

“I think it’s time to give it to you, since there isn’t much more I can teach you. You teach me more each day and you are laid up now you might as well figure out what is this last mission.”

Michaela pushed the envelope to me on the table. “It has been a pleasure working with you. “

I grinned, “We aren’t done yet.” I picked up the envelope and tear into it with a thin razor of air like a letter cutter. Inside the was one name written in red pen. “Carissa Giovanni.”

I laughed. “Is this supposed to be funny?”

“What do you mean?”

“How many people don’t know who Carissa Giovanni is?”

“I had to look it up and searched for days on it the database. Why?” Mich asked.

“That’s Il Cane’s given name. She goes by Cari Giovanni now though.”

“Tell me how the fuck did you know that?”

I shrugged. “I listen to the underground Michaela. She’s a New York City vampire. And I know one of her Chevalier.”

“You know one of her Chevalier? How is that even possible?”

I grinned. “Jack has certain tendencies but I met him though Sage – he’s a hacker too.”

“You know Il Cane.”

I shook my head. “No. I know her name. I know how to find her if I need to.”

Michaela blinked at me. “You know I think you are the first person to ever know this answer when the envelope is handed to you.”

“I can’t be the only one.”

Mich laughed. “Nox, no one else gives a fuck about the human world. We don’t go tromping around through night clubs looking for hook ups. We don’t have human friends, much less friends with vampire Chevalier or werewolves.”

“I know a few werewolves.”

Michaela nodded, “I know. The fact that your human best friend is the foster child of a werewolf is mind blowing.”

“I have a therapist who is a werewolf too. Adrian taught me a lot more than my self worth.”

“Like what?” Michaela asked.

“Like there are technically two packs in New York City. The official werewolf pack which is usually a life time thing, and then the rogue pack which he’s Alpha of. Not so much pack leader, but if you don’t join the pack you have to report to Adrian.”

“Why does that matter? Why do therian politics matter to do your job?”

“It matters to me.” I said. “Now what, do we hunt Il Cane?” I asked to change the subject back to my leaving this hell hole. Though I will miss the boys and Jesse and even Michaela I think.

“No. Knowing who she is, is the last thing. You don’t hunt Il Cane. She’s a scary bitch.”

I smiled. “From what Jack says, she’s not so scary if you stay on her good side.”

Michaela shook her head. “I guess I need to organize your graduation party. Celebrating getting you out of my hair.”

“Don’t rush it.” I told Michaela.

“I have to keep you till end of May before the new guys come in. I expected to have to wait for you to answer that question. So now we wait and go on missions and have a little fun.” She winked at me then walked out of the kitchen. “I’m going for a run, care to join me?”

She didn’t have to ask twice, she had other things in mind if I joined her. Michaela always did.

7 thoughts on “The Last Envelope

      1. It feels like an end, a beginning and something ominous, maybe good? Mixed. My imagination takes me on all sorts of paths, its not picky. Like a marble for example, a simple toy with little or too many rules, something pretty, perfect, artwork, fun, a memory, a story, a window to the past, or is it future? it bends the light or maybe reality, it hurts to step on, trip or slip upon. It could be a weapon, projectile or lodge in a throat. The marble can be the beginning of a story or even the end, happy or sad. Whether it’s a marble or an envelope, something held with importance always sends my mind on a wild trip of ‘where could this go, could it be important?’ Maybe now, maybe later. I think I think too much. ;)

        Liked by 1 person

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