Checking the time on her phone, Jackie cursed under her breath and picked up her pace. She was late. Shit, shit, shit.

  Not wanting to endure that atmosphere of hopelessness again, she considered missing the meeting, but some inner stubbornness wouldn't let her. She decided to give herself one last chance to speak her mind about what she thought they needed. So they wouldn’t have to circle around the same topic over and over again.

  She sighed in relief as she rounded the corner of the Econ building. The University of New Hampshire library two blocks ahead of her.

  Her sigh quickly turned into one of dwindling patience as another person bumped her shoulder. This hustle and bustle grew with the crowd dragging her toward the stairs that led to the library. It had to be the first moment in her life where she was glad to be tossed around in a swarm of moving bodies heading in the same place as her. This was faster transportation than her feet could manage.

  The complaints were skirting past her, snags of conversations drifted past; a teacher giving out B's for students turning their assignment in without dating it. Some other tragic guy grumbled about missing last night’s party, his shouts of apologies hurting her ears.

  Living in the city had its perks, she was a wolf hidden in plain sight. Not like she could tell anyone that, but she still felt misplaced. Her home world had always called to her. It felt more comforting than her apartment, or even working in her dad's lab. When she was younger, she used to tell her parents that "the Alphas" were watching her.

  That had freaked the whole household for a week straight and got her grounded. Such an extreme punishment for a light offense. She wasn’t allowed to bring up anything relating to werewolves at home again. No one in the house did either. They’d rarely even spoken about it, just kept up their human fa?ade.

  Her mom never let her forget her creepy childhood. From the way she tells it, her five-year old would just be playing in the backyard one day and when she went to the window to check, her little pumpkin was gone like she’d disappeared into thin air. It took a while for her mom to recover from it. She wasn’t sure she ever really did.

  The memory was fuzzy for her so she didn’t know where she went or how she got there or even who took her.

  Her dad took a different approach on how to cope. He dove into research, wanting to find a connection between the world he’d left and Earth. She was the motivation that her father built his career on.

  She’d spent the rest of her teenage years with her dad, helping to further his research. Something about it was addictive. Addicting enough for her to follow in his footsteps. Her father was open to giving her curiosity an outlet.

  Wrapping her trench coat tighter, closer to her chest, the winter breeze brushed her already freezing cheeks.

  The crowd had abandoned her while she was stuck reminiscing.

  Her stiffened body slammed through the library doors in a rush. She just wanted to make it to this meeting.

  The wafting scent of freshly brewed coffee. Its promise of warmth dragged her toward the indoor cafe section. She joined the queue gathered by the entrance.

  Her thoughts returned towards the dreaded meeting she was minutes away from joining.

  The topic was always the same. Funding, funding, funding. They didn’t have money for their aspirational adventures across the boundary. All signs pointed to them being stuck on this side of the boundary for good.

  Without revealing her sources, she wanted so badly to just tell them where she thought an entry point was. But she wasn’t the best at communicating. Her words came across rude or weird without her even meaning it that way and no amount of explaining would help either. If worse came to worse, saying nothing was better than having said anything at all.

  Arriving at the front, her order exploded out of her mouth with no breaths taken in between. “French vanilla latte. Do you have any more cream bagels?”

  Criticism written in her expression, the ginger-haired barista squinted her eyes and leaned her head back to eye her and her strange behavior.

  “Um, yeah?”

  She cleared her throat, with a lower and calmer tone, said, “Can I get one please?”

  A normal expression being hard to fake, she did her best in the time it took for her order to be finished and called on for pickup.

  “Yes, french vanilla is me. Thanks.”

  Drink and bagel in hand, Jackie turned, eyes scanning for her group. The heat from the paper cup helped defrost her hands.

  “Jackie, over here!” Robin waved her over, wildly, her blonde pigtails swishing back and forth with her movements.

  She raised her cup toward her and the rest of her group before walking toward them.

  It took some time to notice Kenny frowning at her. His green eyes skittering away when she settled her gaze on him.

  What sounded like the beginning of a complaint coming from Kenny was cut short by Ben who held his hand up, fixing her with a disapproving glare from his place at the head of the table.

  Rising from his chair, Ben asked, “Took your sweet time, didn’t you?”

  His taller, bulkier physique was probably meant to intimidate her, but she was used to dealing with him. So she pulled out the most efficient technique she used to get him to back down.

  She gave him a helpless shrug, not giving him the fight he wanted.

  “I lost track…?”

  “Jackie, you? Losing track of time?” Kenny asked. Not waiting for her reply, he added,“ Now that I think about it, you barely participate in meetings anymore. Is something going on?”

  Whistling in an attempt to avoid the question, her eyes scanned the bookshelves behind him.

  “She must have been busy with other projects and hasn't had the time to join us. Things like this happen. Right, Ben?” Robin asked, beseeching him with her doe-like eyes.

  She snorted, almost choking and dropping everything in her hands. She quickly rescued the falling items with her overly reliable reflexes. Robin’s attempt at convincing wasn’t enough, going by the seriousness on Ben’s face.

  Nothing was more important than getting approval to cross the boundary. This could put their names in the history books forever. But in the meantime, while they were on their way to stardom, it might be best to take a seat before someone said something ridiculous, and she succeeded spilling her breakfast onto the floor.

  She slipped into her seat with haste, careful with placing down her meal.

  Ben cleared his throat, announcing, “As I was saying, the department heads think we’re fools chasing after myths. At least that’s how they treat us.”

  “But we’ve been asking to cross the boundary for weeks now. If we cross, we can just find out for ourselves. It’ll all be in our reports,” Jackie retorted.

  “We don’t know what’s behind the boundary anyway,” Ben commented, his voice snapping her back into the present.

  There he goes again with his fear strategy.

  “Besides werewolves,” Kenny whispered behind the cover of the book he held, titled: The Werewolves Who Walked Among Us.

  “What matters most is our safety,” Robin said.

  Jackie’s eyes drifted from face-to-face, noticing the unsettled looks they exchanged. The way their lips twisted with disgust each time someone said something they disagreed with.

  Just as quickly as their glares appeared, they began arguing.

  That was her cue to sit quiet and enjoy her latte. She really hadn’t missed this.

  The librarian was lingering close by, her eyebrows raised with a warning every time their volume elevated slightly.

  “Imagine if there are vampires—" Kenny began.

  "Think about it, buddy. They feast on our blood—” Robin said.

  "If there are dragons, do you think they live in caves? Hoarding gold? We could be rich if we found their caves.” Kenny suggested.

  “Or we'd be burned alive—”

  “What about angels?”

  “Let's hope their gods aren’t wrathful towards humans and sics their holy soldiers on us.” Robin replied, feeding the fear Ben bled into the conversation.

  Again, she felt herself falling back into hopelessness. The one thing she had come here to get rid of. She had to say something, and fast.

  “Why don’t we just submit a letter to the dean?” Jackie asked, blowing over her paper cup before taking a sip of coffee.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Her question brought silence to the table, cutting off their bickering.

  Robin folded her glossy lips inward and rubbed her arm.

  Awkwardness settled around all sides of the table.

  Kenny buried his nose deeper in his book, his floppy curls fell over his eyes, the only thing poking out from above the edge of the cover, his stare fixed on Ben.

  Robin’s concerned gaze wandered between Jackie and Ben, they always held opposing opinions on just about everything—it had been that way since high school.

  Let the rivalry continue.

  “Even if we do that, Jacqueline, he won’t even acknowledge it. We are his charity cases. There’s no other college in the state that has majors for the supernatural except ours. That’s how uninterested the world is in the research we’ve been working on. He wouldn’t even open our emails. Do we even have anything? We have nothing!”

  The librarian made a sharp and long shushing noise, they all turned to look at her. They were wearing on her patience by now.

  Their guilty gazes were met with a nasty glare.

  “What do you expect us to do?”—in a harsh, exasperated whisper—“Produce projects we don’t have? We need this approval. A decision you openly despise.”

  “Of course, I despise it. Why can’t we do it ourselves? How many months do we have to wait until we can get the proper funding for a trip like this? They won’t even let us step foot in the door. You keep talking about our failures and I’m starting to think you’re using it as an excuse to hide your fear.”

  His mouth tightened, his expression sour. He looked toward the others.

  When no one spoke up in his defense, he took a seat.

  No one knew where the barrier came from; its mystical magnetic field was still a cosmic mystery—the physics majors were urged by the government to leave it alone. The small group that made up the supernatural magicks majors at her school were following right behind them and neither conflicting field made any important discoveries. One did so intentionally while the other didn’t have enough resources or backing—like they currently were.

  So you can imagine how impactful it was when Ben pushed for more definitive data samples and studies. He’d even managed to persuade their professor to join the ‘revolution of humanity’. This kind of rhetoric invigorated the students and professors of their department.

  Groups were formed and given separate tasks that pushed and intimidated the researching committee’s president to approve their future adventures.

  Two weeks in, and reports came of students who passed the boundary going missing.

  It was around that time, Ben’s demeanor changed. He started to bring up the committee’s disapproval of their research more often.

  There was a new shine of fear in his eyes. His bravado was shaken, in need of repair.

  “I know we're all scared. Yeah, it's pretty scary stuff. We could die. I want us to swallow that fear and act on our curiosity. We can't keep allowing these measly papers and money to keep us from a world we know is worth exploring. I doubt we need money, but we can raise funding for ourselves just in case. We can ask for donations online and here on campus. Then when we have enough, we can cross the boundary.”

  “That sounds like a solid plan.” Robin said, nodding encouragingly toward Ben. Her fist bumped his arm. “Right, Pres?”

  He grumbled his agreement.

  Robin and Kenny cheered.

  A heartbeat later, their eyes locked on the librarian. They flinched, shushing each other with an index finger to their lips, and opted for punching the air in celebratory silence.

  The scowling librarian nodded her approval, crossing her arms loosely.

  The meeting was over and they finally had a plan to work with, Jackie smiled. This could actually work.

  She gave her goodbye and walked out the entrance, and down the stairs with a pep in her step.

  She sprinted across the brownish yellow lawn toward her car, accidentally hitting her knee on its bumper as she climbed into the driver’s seat.

  She drove home while humming the tunes of her favorite jazz singer. Her shoulders swayed back and forth to the rhythm in her head. It was time to take their research into their own hands.

  Werewolves didn’t normally survive after they were revealed to the public. They disappeared as soon as they surfaced. In her ethics class, she read a case study file on two wolves that were captured. The dissection and mutilation of their dead bodies were horrifying to see. The file detailed how the early scientists in this field began their experiments with a female werewolf, referred to as Subject 034 remained in her wolf form and, upon death; she became human while Subject 035 stayed human and died that way. There was no mention of whether anesthesia was used.

  They starved them before eviscerating these poor wolves. Still, they found no leads on why they transformed or even the rate of healing for werewolves. Everything documented were failed hypotheses aside from the controversial evidence that supported the claim of how werewolves communicated with each other while they were in the form of a wolf. The tortures they detailed and disguised as necessary experiment processes were enough for me to know just how corrupt the research department truly was.

  With that thought in her mind, she shot a text to her friend, Riley.

  Meet me at my place in an hour.

  When she turned into her apartment’s garage, she walked out with the same sashay to her hips and bounce in her walk.

  Twirling after locking her car then tossed her keys into the air from one hand to the other, picking up her humming habit again.

  Should I check my mailbox? The thought was washed away by her best saxophone impersonations.

  Looking up, a smile tugged at her face as she skipped up the stairs. Her door, 204 a few steps away.

  Jackie slapped her hands to her mouth, muffling a surprised yelp as the door was flung open, nearly colliding with her.

  Peering at the cause, Riley stood in the hallways—hand raised to her mouth, her eyes widened.

  “Oops, I heard your keys and your humming. I didn’t know you were that close. I’m sorry.” A shocked grimace on her face as she apologized.

  “It’s fine. How did you get here so fast? I pretty much just sent that message.”

  “Long story short, I needed peanut butter. You know how your dad sent that delicious—” Jackie clamped her hand over her friend’s mouth.

  Despite her tightening grip, the stubborn brunette moved her head around and continued to speak into her hand, although it was completely muffled.

  She would’ve laughed, but something was off.

  Changing her grip to use her other hand to hold firmly onto the back of Riley’s neck, she crouched to a squatting position, bringing her along.

  Anger rose in her chest.

  “Someone’s been here,” Jackie whispered darkly.

  A musky scent of wet fur hung in the air.

  She released Riley and stood.

  Walking further into the apartment to figure out what animal the smell belonged to, another pleasing fragrance filled her nostrils. It was…

  Blood.

  Jackie licked her lips and searched for its source.

  Kill! Kill! Kill!

  They must die!

  Whoever had invaded her home had signed their death sentence.

  Small imperceptible dark splotches of blood were splattered on the burgundy carpet, Jackie crouched down again and sniffed.

  Something was familiar about this scent, but recognition evaded her. The smell clotted the air around her.

  Intoxicated, she followed its scent to the living room. Her gaze skipped over the pristine couches that were just the way she’d left them that morning and the television hung on the wall, untouched.

  The wolf smell lingering there was faint and fading.

  Jackie spun in a circle, trying to track signs of where the animal hid.

  Her desk, which sat in front of a window, was covered in the scent.

  Peering out the window and down at the parking lot, she leaned closer to the glass and inhaled deeply.

  “Uh… what’s going on, you weirdo? Don’t tell me you’re gonna lick that?” Riley asked.

  A hand touched her shoulder as she whipped her head toward Riley. Urges to lunge and maul were held back with veiled restraint, a low guttural growl escaping her throat instead, a warning.

  Riley looked at her curiously, not knowing how close Jackie was to harming her.

  “Hey, look at this,” Riley said, pointing down toward the top of her desk.

  Jackie was more interested in the scent but she glanced over anyway.

  Her research binders were open, the pages were splayed across the mahogany surface in disarray.

  It wasn’t her prey, so she dismissed this and went back in pursuit of them.

  Next was her bedroom.

  The aroma of blood was stronger here.

  Everything was as she had left it, her closet door was still open and her clothes were still littered across the floor and her bed.

  Yanking the sheets away, she flung them behind her.

  Then her eyes locked on the bathroom door.

  There you are.

  She clambered toward it, sliding and stumbling as she got closer.

  Her breathing came in quick pants as she pulled the door open with a victorious grin on her face.

  Running in, skidding to a halt at the scene that greeted her.

  Riley grabbed her by the shoulders, leaning over, trying to examine her face. “What's going on with you?”

  Without turning to look at Riley, she flicked on the lights and lowered her head, tears stinging her eyes as they fell in the momentary silence.

  Her head was lifted enough to see Riley backing away from the sight of her roommate's dead body. Riley’s own tears turned to sobs.

  His sightless brown eyes held hers captive. It was like they were screaming at her for being alive. I’m dead and you’re not. How cruel. You’re alive so avenge me!

  Of course, she knew eyes could not scream and it was her guilt talking.

  A faint dial tone rang in her ears, it was coming from behind her, then the sound of shaky breathing intensified, calming only when a woman’s voice on the other line asked, "911, what's your emergency?"

  "I-I…" Her distraught friend gave a false start before she seemed to break out of her shock enough to answer the dispatcher’s questions.

  Drowning out the rest of the conversation, Jackie swallowed, biting her lip so hard she bled. She fell to her knees, tears flooding and blurring her vision.

  Simon's lifeless eyes continued to watch her, his head crooked on the lip of the tub.

  Her hands horrified her. Killing this intruder took such a priority that she hadn’t realized the blood belonged to her roommate, to…his name…Of course, she remembered his name. It’s just her mind was still in a foggy state from the smell of blood.

  Crawling closer, she placed her guilt-ridden hand on his cold arm that hung outside the tub. Who killed you? If only you could speak, but you’re dead.

  More tears fell.

  Jackie inhaled a steady breath, examining his mangled and contorted body.

  If only she had a power that would help her find his killer. All she had was a nose that cared more for killing than who was killed.

  Wait…the wolf scent.

  She glanced past her bedroom and toward the living room where she smelled the wolf. Its aroma was still in her nose, even though it was fading.

  Her eyes went back to Simon.

  The shattered tiles had blood dripping down in rivulets. His chest cavity was caved in and his mouth agape.

  Another choked sob trembled from her lips.

  He loosely held a piece of paper in his hand—the one she touched—a yellow and blood-stained paper peeking out. She reached down and grabbed it.

  Opening the bloodstained note, it read:

  Cross the boundary and You're next.