I can’t help but get jealous. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it. I’m an alpha—possessiveness is part of our nature, even if most of us try to quash it.

Carson has a soft spot for pregnant omegas. I know it’s because he’s overall a caring person, but I can’t help but think that it’s because he finds me lacking. I’m an alpha, so I can’t get pregnant. And I have a very different type of masculinity from an omega. When it comes to sex, we take turns being the top. It’s a little tricky for both of us, but we make it work.

I always worry he’ll leave me for an omega. Even though it doesn’t work that way—when wolves mate, they’re committed—it isn’t out of the realm of possibility. So it isn’t surprising that my jealousy was piqued when I heard Carson going gaga over an omega, one with a baby, no less.

I can’t give him a baby, but an omega can.

This isn’t new, though. He’s always trying to help pregnant omegas. It’s kind of what our pack does—we’re like philanthropists, in a way, in addition to a de facto police force for shifters. But few do it with as much sincerity and care as Carson. The fact that he took time out of his day to help the omega get an SSA and set up in a safe place is admirable.

I try to shake the thoughts out of my mind. I have a job to do. I’m one of the leaders in the pack, and I have to focus on this new gang that popped up. They’re some kind of shifter, but no one knows what, exactly. We have a lot of research to do, but in the meantime, they’re targeting low income folks for scams and roping them into sketchy shit.

That’s not going to happen on my watch. My blood boils when I think of all the people who came forward about their savings being stolen or their homes being burgled. These people don’t have much to begin with, and this gang’s still taking from them. Lowest of the low. Sure, I don’t want anyone stealing from me, but $200 isn’t a life or death issue for me, either.

Every time we find a new gang, I’m imbued with energy. I love tackling new projects and challenges. I get the sense that Carson is a little quieter and less ready to jump into the action, which makes sense. Even though he does fight when he has to, he’s happier hanging back and providing support. We get along perfectly, complementing each other.

I walk into the door of headquarters, which is a couple floors below us. The bottom half of the building is where we conduct all our pack business, and the top half is where we all live. It’s essentially an office and apartment building rolled into one. Very convenient.

And very luxurious. Anyone walking in would think they’re entering the grounds of some kind of huge corporation. We are a powerful organization of a different kind.

As I enter the corridor which leads to the conference rooms, I hear footsteps coming around the corner. One of the other alphas in the pack, Robert, sees me, his eyes narrowed.

“Hey, dude,” I say, trying to be my usually friendly, nonchalant self. “”What’s the matter?”

“It’s… it’s a development in the case. You’re right in time. Come with me.”

My interest is piqued, and I’m on alert now. Robert is one of the main people dealing with this gang, and he knows what’s up. I follow behind his heavy footsteps—he clearly is on a mission.

We walk into one of the many conference rooms, where a few other wolves are waiting, seated. Robert and I walk in and he shuts the door behind us, striding up to the front of the room to take his place.

“So, I’m glad we were set to meet now because there’s a development in the case,” he says, not even bothering to start off with a proper greeting.

But that doesn’t matter. All the alphas and betas in the room are on alert now. We know that this shit is serious.

Robert pulls a paper out of the file he’s been carrying. “We have a name. Any of you guys recognize this logo?”

“We take a look at it. It has an outline of the face of some kind of canine that isn’t a wolf—a fox or coyote, maybe. Around the face are rays, like the face is the sun. Underneath are the words “Blacktail K9s.”

“I think I recognize the logo,” says one of the alphas, speaking up. “I saw it spraypainted on one of the buildings in the Paisley.”

“That’s right,” says Robert. “They’re primarily operating out of the Paisley. And I saw the logo spraypainted near the sisters’ home. This is a major piece of evidence. Before, we weren’t sure if the Blacktails were involved, but now we know they are.”

“I thought we already knew that the guys who attacked the sisters were affiliated with the Blacktails, though,” says someone else.

“We thought they might be, but this is confirmation. There were several articles of clothing with the logo at the perp’s house, and one of them had it tattooed on his chest.”

There’s silence as we all process this information. I think everyone was hoping that we’d be dealing with some low level gang, but it turns out we’re dealing with one of the more frightening gangs in the city.

Still, it’s nothing our pack hasn’t seen before. We’re some of the strongest alphas and best fighters in the city. If anyone can take down the Blacktails and protect the people of the Paisley, it’s us.

“Looks like we need to rethink our strategy,” continues Robert. “Now that we know the people we’re up against are more organized.”

“But we have a dossier on the Blacktails already, right?” asks someone else. “So we have more background information to go off of.”

“That’s right,” says Robert, and I can see a smile break out on his face for the first time since we got in here. “I think this might be our opportunity to take them down once and for all.”

My heart thuds with excitement. I love action. I know Carson would rather avoid it, but I live for it. I knew from a young age that I wanted to be one of the alphas who went on missions like this to take down bad guys. I get excited whenever there’s the promise of action and justice to be served.

“Alright, we’re going to have to pick someone to go on a recon mission. We’ve found that the Blacktails are operating a business as a front, so we need someone to get in there and see what the deal is.”

“I’ll go,” I say, instantly raising my hand. I’m itching to get out there and start working. I’m not really happy unless I’m out in the field—or curled up in bed with Carson.

“Great, anyone else?” asks Robert, looking around the room.

A couple other people raise their hands, and the others are dismissed. Robert and my new teammates work out the logistics for this new mission, and I’m able to walk back to my apartment with a spring in my step. We’re supposed to get ready and meet back here in an hour.

As I walk into my closet and look around for a shiftsuit that isn’t completely covered in fur, a thread of worry finally worms its way down my spine. How exactly are we going to take down the Blacktails, if we haven’t already? We’ve been fighting them for years. Just because we have a new lead doesn’t mean we can get them. In fact, the new lead is just a sign they’re robust and continuing to do their dirty work. It’s like our previous fights haven’t hindered them one bit.

I shake my head and try to center myself. There’s no point in dwelling on our failures of the past. If I do, then I’m never going to be able to help defeat them. I have to think positive. There’s gotta be a way. There always is.

When I have my shiftsuit on, regular clothes on top, and some supplies in my pockets, I head back down, thankful for the millionth time that I live in the building in which I work. We’re back in the conference room, and Robert is already discussing logistics with one of the alphas.

We’re simply supposed to visit this business as if we’re normal customers and see if we can case the joint, meet people, and gather any other pertinent information.

Another one of my teammates walks in, an alpha named Chaz. He and Morton, the guy sitting at the table with Robert, are decent guys. Solid. Maybe not the brightest bulbs in the box, but I’m happy enough to work with them.

After Robert sends us off, we make our way down to the garage, where we pick out one of the pack’s cars to take. We all have our own, of course. They’re parked here too. But pack business demands pack cars.

“So,” says Morton. “Didn’t think it’d be the freakin’ Blacktails, after all this time.”

“I know,” agrees Chaz. “I’d be happy if I never had to see them again.”

I agree with them, but I stay silent. I don’t want to get caught up in chatter. I like to keep my head clear when I’m on a mission, because if I don’t, I might not be prepared for danger. Or I might just be too distracted to notice important details.

The ride to the Paisley is a little longer than I think it is, simply because the neighborhood is all the way on the outskirts and and there’s some traffic, as there always is in a big city. But the familiar, rundown landscape soon appears in view, and we find ourselves traversing several side streets until we arrive at one that’s in particularly bad shape.

There’s litter everywhere, for one thing, and the buildings look like they survived some war from the last century. There aren’t any kids, and few women. It’s mostly populated with scraggly-looking teens and old men sitting on stoops and smoking cigarettes. I don’t get a bad vibe from them, but it does put me on edge knowing the Blacktails operate here.

“Looks like there’s the shop,” says Chaz, nodding at a grimy storefront. I can’t tell what’s even in the display cases because the windows are pretty gross.

We make our way in, and I’m glad my shiftsuit is covered by my pants and shirt. It’s obnoxious to have to wear all these items of clothing, but it’d be pretty obvious who we were if we walked in wearing the distinctive one piece black outfits.

I’m not expecting to see a kindly old woman sitting behind the counter, but there she is, smiling benignly at us. Around us are tons of antiques. Or, well, they’re not so much antiques as much as they’re old things no one wants anymore.

This place looks incredibly harmless, but it’s the address Robert got from the perp. I don’t see a trace of Blacktail activity anywhere, but there’s got to be something more here.

Chaz and Morton make a show of examining some of the merchandise, while I wander around the shop, looking for anything that looks out of place. But I can’t find it. It really looks like a harmless shop with old tchotchkes, except for the fact that it’s an odd location. I can’t imagine it gets much foot traffic.

“Can I help you find anything, honey?” says the grandma behind the desk, smiling at me. I get a whiff of something from her—she’s a shifter of some kind, definitely a mammal, maybe a canine of some sort, though I wouldn’t be surprised if she was a carnivore of another kind. If she’s a Blacktail, though…

“I’m good, thanks,” I say, smiling tightly. I’m uncomfortably aware of the fact that even though I dressed to blend in, my clothes are simply too nice for someone patronizing this shop. I clearly look like I’m not from here. And so do Chaz and Morton, though they opted for more casual clothes.

“Sure. Let me know if you need anything, dear,” says the older woman, smiling and turning back to a magazine on the counter in front of her.

I’m not really sure we’re going to get anything of value from here. It certainly seems like it could be a front, largely because I can’t imagine anyone would actually buy anything sold here. But we can’t exactly shake down an innocent-looking grandma for information, and I’m sure that’s exactly why they put her there.

The store is silent except for a fan blowing on the counter. I can hear the occasional whoosh from a car passing by outside, but it’s otherwise a silent street.

But then I hear some thumping from the room behind where the lady’s sitting, and a voice calls out. “Aunt Marie? Do we need more dolls?”

A flicker passes over Marie’s face, but her expression settles into something more relaxed. “No, not right now, honey,” she says. She glances at me briefly and smiles.

I hear footsteps behind me; Chaz and Morton have come up to see what the deal is.

“Do you have any other employees in your shop, then?” I ask politely, like I’m simply making small talk.

“Mmhm,” she says, nodding. “My grandson helps me out sometimes.”

That’s interesting. A potential lead.

Before I can think on it further, the curtain behind the counter shakes and a young male face pops out, smiling good-naturedly when he sees us.

“This is Mortimer,” says Marie.

“Nice to meet you,” I say.

“He’s been such a help since my arthritis got so bad,” says Marie.

“That’s good to hear,” says Chaz.

Mortimer looks like a decent young man. But his pants are covered in golden hairs—there’s no way he’s not a shifter. A coyote shifter, maybe?

I’m on alert. But there’s no immediate danger here.

I need to get rid of my prejudice, though. Just because a lot of the Blacktails are coyote shifters doesn’t mean all coyote shifters are bad. For all I know, Robert got bad intel and these two are just coyotes trying to make a living.

Somehow, I doubt it. But there’s nothing obviously suspicious about these two.

I weigh my options, wondering if I should tell them we’re seeking information. If they are Blacktails, that’ll make them tighten their security.

I don’t think there’s anything we’re going to learn from here. But there are other places to look.

“Well, this is a lovely shop you have,” I say, making as if to leave. “Have a good one.”

The two shifters wave at us as we leave, looking as innocuous as ever.

When Chaz, Morton, and I are back out on the sidewalk, we walk around to another street so we’re out of view.

“That wasn’t very productive,” says Chaz.

“Nope,” agrees Morton.

“But the store itself isn’t all we can check,” I say. I’m glad I spearheaded this mission because I’m one of the most experienced. I know where else we can go.

I lead the other two alphas around the back, sniffing a little. I know I’ll be able to find what I’m looking for by smell.

And there it is. The dumpster behind the shop. The Blacktails aren’t usually very sloppy, but who knows. It’s worth looking into.

The dumpster doesn’t smell that bad, since it doesn’t have much food in it. It’s mostly full of broken things and old papers and boxes from the store.

Chaz and Morton help me lift the lid, and we rummage inside. It’s a total mess. Half the garbage bags are tearing, spilling their contents out, and there’s all kinds of trinkets littered around the bottom of the dumpster.

I rummage through, upset that I’m getting my hands dirty. Dumpster diving is not my idea of a good time.

“Huh, this looks weird,” said Chaz, his voice strained as he leans far into the dumpster.

When he comes back up, he’s holding a sparkling earring.

I’m not sure why it’s remarkable. There was tons of cheap costume jewelry in the store. This is probably just another reject.

To my surprise, Chaz bites down on the earring and grins. “This is real gold.”

Huh. Maybe these bulbs are brighter than I thought.

He hands it to me and I peer closely at it. I’m no jewelry expert, but now that I’m actually looking, I can tell that it’s much nicer than I thought. The rubies could even be real. They shimmer with a clarity that plastic just can’t touch.

And there’s an odd smell to them. I can’t put my finger—or nose, rather—on it at all. But they smell kind of… homey. Like old perfume and linens stored in the attic.

“We’ll take it with us,” I say, pocketing the earring. Maybe it’ll come in handy later. Something about it is niggling at the back of my brain.

We dig some more, thankfully not attracting the attention of anyone else. The neighborhood really is deserted. But eventually, it becomes clear that this is a waste of our time. We’d have to storm the shop if we wanted to find anything.

We walk back to the main street and call the car. I’m silent while Chaz and Morton chatter to themselves.

I don’t know what to think of this. The Blacktails are disturbingly elusive, and it’s deeply frustrating to know that they’re carrying out their nefarious activities and harming innocent people right under our noses.

I shake my head as I walk into headquarters. I can only hope we get them this time.