Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 217: Grace: Where’s Sadie (and the Cat)?

The yellowed paper suddenly feels... gross.

Blood?

Demi-God or not, I highly regret not bringing gloves along on this search. Hopefully said blood doesn’t transmit strange diseases.

And where the hell am I supposed to submit this thing? Does the App have a brick and mortar location? Business hours? A lab?

For one crazed second or thirty, I hold the paper to my phone, half-expecting it to disappear into the world of internet data and update my App.

Unsurprisingly, nothing happens.

"What are you doing?"

Cold, lemony breath blasts my ear and I jerk to the side in justifiably dramatic fashion, cringing my shoulder up to the side of my face to protect myself from Caeriel’s breathing.

My spine does its best to shrink back against my skin, equally revulsed by how close he is. "What are you doing?"

"Observing." Pale fingers pluck the paper from my hand, and he sniffs at it, his face too handsome for his creepy behavior. "How interesting. Good job."

How did he get in? I’m pretty sure Andrew would have followed him if it was through the front door. And when, precisely, did he arrive? I didn’t hear the telltale jingle.

Caeriel examines the small bit of blood-streaked paper like it’s truly some ancient artifact and not a possibly hazardous biosample, and I wonder if he can get any information just from sniffing at it... or if he’s just weird.

Honestly, I’m betting on weird.

you watching the whole time?" I ask, even though I’m pretty sure he was, considering his earlier

"Mhm."

"So you were here?"

It’s

probably could have sniffed it out in half a second, and it took me..." I’m not sure

still on the ’wash’ cycle, and

expression radiates condescension the way normal people radiate body heat. Seriously, I can practically feel it in

foray as a Guardian, Miss Grace Harper?" His voice has an annoying lilt, the kind where even a patient old grandma would want to smack him for his sass. "Perhaps battling a demon horde single-handedly? Stopping

weak, no need to bathe my ears in

mission involves heroics, Miss Harper. We

I was just trying to point out how inefficient and stupid the mission was, and he’s turned me

But...

press my

aside, his logic is logical, even if it only increases my

on

it’s a bit anticlimactic to find essentially nothing. A piece of old paper isn’t exactly the stuff

into the folds of his ridiculously dramatic trenchcoat, and I wonder where his scythe is. Maybe it’s out

my name has never sounded so damn annoying in my entire life, "Why would a

me, sounding rather Socratic. Apparently Wash-N-Were was only fronting as a laundromat to hide its real identity as Professor

good one, and while I might not be thrilled over my assigned professor, I still have a mission to complete and

All the help.

So. Much. Help.

pulled out of fantasy books and battle-hungry animated shows, which means they all basically end with either the threat or reality of world domination at the hands of some evil master