Atlas had been busy with other affairs and had unable to cleanly get away until sometime later. Atlas pulls up his collar and his hat down to cover his face in the chilly winter air as he glances in both directions before disappearing around a building corner. Had anyone been following him, they would have lost him around the corner to find a dead-end alleyway.

Atlas had carefully tapped on the dead-end alleyway and disappeared into a doorway that only appeared if one knew where to look. The air is frigid and slightly moldy as Atlas descends into the hidden pub beneath the city. The bar was empty at this early morning hour except for the bar owner a sleek older gentlemen man known as Tim.

Tim nods at Atlas and says, “Sir, the same as always?”

“Yes, a beck with orange juice. Thanks, Tim,” Atlas said.

Tim nods and professionally mixes the orange juice in the shaker with a sprint of vodka, amaretto, and soda water. With the grace of a bartender, Tim smoothly places the drink before his customer, before turning around to finish wiping down the cold beer mugs until they were spotless.

Atlas takes his drink and seats himself in his usual corner of the bar. With his back to a wall and near an exit that allowed complete surveillance of anyone entering or exiting the bar. Nursing his drink, Atlas waits for the seeker to arrive.

A tall, well-toned man ducks under the doorway lest he hit his head on the top of the stairs. The seasoned bar owner, Tim instantly places a cold mug of beer in front of the man in the jacket. The man was ruggedly handsome with dark chestnut hair and golden eyes. The man takes a seat on the bar stool across from Atlas and takes a large gulp from his drink. Licking his lips clean, the man says, “Well, what do you want?”

“Cessair, I’m calling in the favor owed. After this the slates will be wiped clean,” Atlas said as the man looks interested at the proposed offer. Atlas continues, “I want you to watch and merely report on their actions. It must be done without any trace and unofficially, is that understood?”

“Yes, understood. But what I fail to understand is why can’t any of your own people do it?” Cessair curiously asked as he pointedly narrows his eyes at Atlas.

“My people are compromised,” Atlas flatly stated.

Cessair lets out a low whistle unable to hide his gleeful expression. “So, it’s one of your own. Who would have ever thought that the great Atlas would one day come crawling back to liddle o’me for help? Time sure is a funny way of twisting things,” Cessair crisply said.

Atlas doesn’t allow any vestige of emotion to appear on his face as he waits for a reply. Cessair eyes Atlas usual emotionless face for an unspoken message but finds nothing. After a moment, Cessair carefully asks, “All right, but what are the terms?”

“Merely watch and report, that is all I am asking.”

“For how long?”

“Until the end of January.”

“Huh, that’s not much time at all. It almost sounds too easy. What aren’t you telling me?” Cessair dubiously asked.

Atlas calmly replies, “Stay out of sight and stay low.” Atlas reaches into his coat and pushes the single hand sized image across the table toward Cessair. “You know how to reach me, tell me, when you have anything,” Atlas firmly said, before doing his drink in a single gulp. Atlas places the glass onto the table with a soft thud and pulls out a folded wad of money in a money. Atlas carefully selects one bill, before returning the money clip into his inner jacket. Placing a large denomination bill on the table, Atlas flatly says, “Drinks are on me.” Before nodding goodbye at Tim and leaving via the back exit.

Cessair glances at the picture on the table and pulls it toward him. The featured man is handsome with dark hair and bright eyes. Your typical charmer, but there was something about him that raised Cessair’s hackles. Cessair sighs and mutters to himself, “Your promised, Lily, that you were finally out. But then again, this is a simple job that will clear off my entire debt. I mean, after all, what’s the worst that could happen?”

*

A day later, Cessair kisses his wife and children goodbye. His wife, Lily, was an Esper with heterochromia eyes, (the left eye was a gorgeous midnight black and the right was a dark indigo). Lily passionately kissed him goodbye leaving Cessair, a bit tongue-tied as he drove away with a large goofy smile on his face.

Out of their three children, Ivy (8), Lulu (5), and Vincentius (2) also nicknamed Vincent. (What could he say, Vincentius was a traditional family name.) Only their youngest and only male child had his mother’s wonderful colored eyes. His older sisters were showing budding Esper abilities, but Vincentius had not. Vincentius was still much too young to determine if he was a changeling, but from the looks of it, Vincentius would be a regular human and there was nothing wrong with that.

With ease and the instincts of a timber wolf, Cessair began to hunt his quarry. Slinking to the shadows, Cessair watches and follows, but a few days, Cessair began to gain an uneasy feeling from just simply observing his target. The man himself wasn’t doing anything wrong, but the problem was who he was seeing. Cessair almost chocked several times at seeing the figures with whom the target was meeting with.

Time quickly passed until January 15th arrived. Cessair sniffs the air and frowns to see the dark-haired man carrying a newborn out of the agency compound. Sniffing the blood in the air, Cessair detects a familiar scent. Cessair’s eyes widen at just whose scent was in the air. It couldn’t be, could it?!

The crying bundle is handed over to a trio. A woman of Asia-Indian descent, an old man with a cane and a young girl. The trio disappear right before him as Cessair darts back into the snow as he feels a gaze pass over him. Holding his breath, Cessair waits until the man is long gone. Ill at ease, Cessair rushes across the snow until he emerges back at his van. Climbing back into his slightly open van, Cessair crawls in and closes the door by pulling on a piece of rope tied to the handle.

Switching back to human form, Cessair swiftly drives away. As he drives Cessair makes the call, but the line only rings and rings to his great aggravation. A shrill automatic voicemail says, “Please leave a message after the beep.” The shrill beep is heard loudly in his ears causing him to flinch. “We need to meet, I found something,” Cessair brusquely said, before hanging up.

Cessair safely arrives at his home and greets his happy wife and eager children. His children plead to be dragged on the sleigh with their dad in wolf worm pulling a sleigh through the snow. Unable to bear their puppy eyes for long, Cessair says, “Alright, but I want everyone to dress warmly!”

The girls squeal with delight and rush to put on their winter coats and boots. Cessair bends down and gently kisses/nips his little boy’s cheeks. Vincentius lets out a trail of giggle and burbles, “Up! UP!” Cessair grins and tosses his boy up in the air before catching him to his wife’s chagrin.

“You’re going to drop him!” Lily hissed and protectively took her child back into her arms.

Cessair grins roughly and says, “You know he loves it.” Lily glares at her husband, but before she can speak, Cessair plants a kiss square on her lips silencing her. Lily blushes and is unable to speak as Cessair roguishly smiles at her before transforming into a large timber wolf and darting into the snow to play with his waiting girls. It was going to be such a fun day.