He was connected to a spirit wolf who could lend him power. Even after a hundred years, we were still learning things about his gift, and trying to pass it on to those who had become like him. Torres was the first guardian in our existence. What could they possibly need from my husband? Witch, vampire, guardian… No one was protected, despite all the efforts of the BOMB. It was no longer safe to be a magical being. The uprisings against the Le Coterie, witches and warlocks who have fallen to the evil side of magic, were increasing. I wrung my hands out and began pacing again. The Bureau of Magical Beings had never before requested Torres’s presence without me. My husband’s spirit wolf was my only form of communication to Torres while he met with the BOMB officials.
I couldn’t shake the sensation of dread as it crawled over my skin. It almost mocked me in my attempt to remain calm.
The freshly wallpapered walls with blue flowers common in nearly every 1920s home, stared back at me as I sought out a distraction from the meeting being held upstairs. The solemn atmosphere clung to me as I paced the wooden floor in the spacious home of William Black, the head of the BOMB.
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