Inhuman Heritage
on heading for the door. I spun on my heel and turned back to them.
    “Okay, I can’t actually let you leave the apartment, it’s dangerous out there. So stay put.”
    “Cassandra, you can’t just…” started to whine Incarra but I was out the door before she could stop me. I locked the door and pressed my hand over the lock, sealing it so that even if they found my spare key they couldn’t use it to get out. It was for their own good. I had to believe that as I took the elevator down.

Chapter Nine
    The Worcester werewolf community is like a town within a city. The high brick walls sectioned off their little world from those that would not understand them. It had everything inside the gates that they needed. A supermarket, beauty salon, a bar, even a dentist’s office. If they never wanted to venture out into the larger world, they never had to. The wrought iron gates were large and luminous in the moonlight and whoever was on gate duty was hiding somewhere in the shadows. I wrapped my hands around the bars and rattled them to get attention. The large man that melted out of the darkness I’d seen before, he was tall and bald, hairless muscular arms in a tight white vest and rugged blue washed Levi’s. I wondered how he erupted in fur under the full moon when he had no hair now. I giggled thinking he might look like one of those Sphynx cats, hairless and wrinkled.
    “What do you want?”
    “Here to see Urquhart, I should be expected.” He reached over flicking on a small light that momentarily blinded me and checked a chart that was hanging next to the gate. He ran his finger down the page and huffed putting it back on its hook.
    “Alright,” he said and he opened a small insert in the gate designed for pedestrian traffic. I stepped through and his nose scrunched up as I passed him. “Been out on the town have we?” I rolled my head to him.
    “Like I’d waste this dress,” I said opening my coat and flashing him my ensemble. He smirked. The little black dress was indeed little. It hugged my thighs and only shared a passing acquaintance with the top of my boots. I flipped back around knotting the sash of my coat and marched myself towards where Simian lived. He had a large brown brick town house in a row of similar houses away from what I considered the main street where all the shops and offices were. I walked up to the door and took the brass knocker in my hand banging it down hard. The curtains twitched in the living room and I smiled through the little gap that appeared. Simian opened the front door letting me inside. He had his head turned to the living room telling Sophie, who was sitting curled on the couch with a book, that it was just me. Zoe ran at me screaming, as she often did. Zoe was Urquhart’s daughter, she was now four years old and I was her godmother. I squatted to pick her up and swung her around and around. She hugged my face and then leaned back from me pulling a face.
    “Daddy, Cassie smells like grandpa at Christmas.”
    I put her down on the floor. She was so adorable, with her slightly curled blond hair and pajamas that had little booties attached to the bottom and kittens chasing yarn balls on the soft white material. Simian placed his hand on my shoulder and took a deep sniff. I really wished people would stop doing that. He bent down to his daughter.
    “Okay sweetie, I told you that you could stay up till Cassie came over now, say good night and mommy will tuck you in.” Sophie appeared behind her husband minus her book and Zoe reached up taking her hand, she went with her up the stairs waving to me as she did. Simian turned me around holding both my shoulders tightly.
    “Breathe on me.”
    “Bite me.”
    “I’m serious,” he said and I felt his fingers digging into the flesh of my shoulders through my clothes. I breathed on him and his nose wrinkled. “You’re drunk.”
    “It seems to be a popular consensus,” I said pulling back from him and slipping out of my

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