Updates A/N: As some of you already know, I'm going through some personal hardships and that was why updates on both of my stories and my guidebook were late. I needed some time off, but I'll try to update all three books this week. Thank you for your support of me and my stories! Reading your comments cheers me up (or at least provides a distraction) and seeing you vote makes me happy because it means you enjoy my work. Once again: THANK YOU!

*****

I took a deep breath, enjoying the sweet scent of the Mocha as I drew a rose with the whipped cream. A smile was spread on my face - a silly grin that was almost constant after my date with Rhys even though it had been five days ago. I slid the cup over the bar and towards the costumer who raised an eyebrow in return.

"Dude, really? A rose?"

It was only then that I realized I'd drawn a flower on a guy's order; a very rugged, macho, one hundred percent surely heterosexual guy's order.

"Sorry, I'll... I'll make you another." I reached for the cup but he pulled it away.

"Never mind," he sighed and walked towards one of our most popular tables – those by the windows.

"That's the third order you mess up in two days," Winnie admonished, placing her tray on the bar and her left hand on her hip. "And all that just because you think you had a good date."

"I don't think, I know," I corrected, taking a towel to wipe the bar.

"Let's recap, shall we?" She tilted her head up and placed a finger on her chin, pretending to be deep in thought while I battled with a sticky stain, most likely from maple syrup. "You went to the movies and actually enjoyed the movie – good; you made out in front of your building – would be good if I trusted the guy," she began to enlist, "you then went to your apartment where he checked how secure it is – weird and scary, and what was the other thing you told me over the phone that night?" I knew she hadn't forgotten, her tone was far too sarcastic. "Oh, yeah: he told you that you were special on your first freakin' date. Creepy," she concluded.

I once again congratulated myself that I had managed to restrain a back then very excited Riley from telling her exactly how special I was – the first person Rhys kissed and the first he'd want to do some bedroom acrobatics with. The main reason I had not shared that with Winona was because it seemed too private and it involved another person; I didn't want to make Rhys even more uncomfortable about it.

The less important yet still present reason was because Winnie was right: it was a kind of creepy to tell a person you were that serious about the two of you as a couple on your first date. Maybe romantic too – surely so, if you believed in the idea of soul mates – but also creepy. If I was rational about the whole situation, I'd go mostly with creepy. But since I really liked Rhys and liked how much Rhys liked me and that we both wanted a stable, monogamous relationship, I was too high on hormones to be rational.

"Riley," Winnie dragged my name out as she waved a hand in front of my face.

"Huh?"

"You spaced off on me. What were you thinking about?"

"I was pretty much repeating 'creepy' and 'like' in my head," I admitted.

"So you like creepy things?" She grimaced but I was spared from replying. The bell above the door chimed and in came our subject of conversation. My hands hurriedly ruffled my hair and I pulled down my shirt, smoothing any possible wrinkles it could have had. I heard Winnie sigh and saw her leave at the corner of my eyes. My main focus was on Rhys, of course, who was approaching me in quick, even strides.

"Hey," he greeted and bent over the bar. I leaned forward, my lips eager to meet his. He gave me just a slight peck before he sat down and I pouted at the far too brief contact.

"We haven't seen each other since Friday and this is how you greet me?" I whined.

"You are working, Riley; I don't want to get you in trouble."

I tried to stay angry with him and failed miserably. How could I not when he was protecting me? Mr. Philips wouldn't fire me over a kiss, but I had to admit that a make out session during a job would be unprofessional.

"Did you solve that problem you mentioned?" I asked as I began preparing his coffee. He had called me on the phone last Saturday and while we spoke, he'd told me that trouble was brewing within the Silver Bullets. He hadn't given me details, but he'd promised he'd share more once we met in person. I was initially anxious to hear what he had to say and I was even more so now that his smile disappeared and he rubbed his forehead where worry lines had appeared.

Rhys looked around the café; everyone was busy doing what you'd expect them to: waitresses waited on the clients and costumers chatted or showed off the things they'd bought from the mall before coming here. He leaned forward, elbows on the bar, and I bent towards him.

"You know we... consult the police about the murders, right?" He spoke quietly. I nodded; I was aware of that fact even though I wasn't sure how or why the Bullets could help. "Some of the younger members in our society had gotten the ridiculous idea that we should form our own investigation, separate from that of the police."

"They w..." I backed away, my voice rising, but Rhys hushed me. We both looked around and noticed that I'd gained the attention of several costumers and Winnie. I shook my head at her, silently ordering her to stay out of this and bent over the counter again.

"They want what?" I posed the question I had before, this time in a quieter tone. "Don't they realize how dangerous this could be?"

"That's what we tried to convince them in. By 'we' I mean the Council," he explained and took a sip of his unfinished coffee; I hadn't drawn a wolf but he seemed not to notice. "Not only would they be facing a serial killer but also the police; I doubt they'd be happy with us interfering." He snorted and took another gulp. "Callum is far from ecstatic about it, but he realizes he needs us."

"And why does he need you?" I asked slowly. Rhys had agreed to be more open but I was not sure how open was 'more open'.

"We'd have..." He paused and frowned, unsure how to go on. I took that as a good sign as it showed he meant to go on. "A long time ago – far too long for it to be the same person – there was a series of similar killings and members of our society and other societies like ours were involved."

"You are telling me that one of the Bullets was... a killer?" I gulped. Oh, would Winnie have a field day with that information!

"Associated with killers," he corrected. "The people who formed the Council back then gave her a choice: never see those people again or leave us for good. She left."

"Did she go to them?"

"Yes."

"She willingly went to the killers?" My voice was a hoarse whisper. Why would anyone go to such monsters? And if the killings were similar to the resent ones, then yes, those people were monsters.

"She was in love with one of them."

His reply had left me speechless and nauseous. I felt bile rising up in my throat and I covered my mouth as I imagined a faceless woman gently caressing the cheek of a man; when he reached up to run his fingers through her hair, he stained it with blood, one that was not his own. I shook my head to ward off those images and once again wondered what could compel a woman to fall in love with such a demon. I could not come up with a reason other than that she might have had some sort of mental illness.

"I shouldn't have told you that," Rhys noted almost inaudibly, apprehensive about my reaction.

"No, I appreciate you sharing." He looked unconvinced so I added: "It was not a topic I enjoyed, but I really appreciate you telling me this; it means you trust me."

"Of course I trust you, Riley." His thumb ran back and forth over my hand, a soothing feathery-light touch. "Can we talk about something else?"

"Sure," I agreed. I've had more than enough mental pictures of killers and blood-stained knives for the whole week and it was only Tuesday. "Any suggestions?"

He looked around as if in search for a topic. I laughed as Winnie took this particular moment to turn to us and narrow her brown eyes at Rhys, seemingly scouting the Milk & Cream.

"I should probably go now," Rhys said as he emptied his glass of tart cherry juice. "It's getting late and I'm helping the trainers tomorrow."

"Trainers?" I repeated. Here was yet another term that probably meant something else in the world of the Silver Bullets.

"We've told you that we organize physical training sessions, right?" I nodded. "The more experienced members help the younger ones. The trainers are only the fit and able members and we use a rotational schedule. Let's say that you are one such member, Riley..."

I laughed. I, with my puny body, could definitely not be classified as 'fit and able'. I've never even been to a gym.

"Hypothetically, Riley, so that you'll get my point."

"I know what a rotational schedule is, Rhys; you don't need to explain that," I interrupted. "It means that you are taking turns. Unless the Bullets have another definition for that too?"

"No, it's... it's that," he replied, seeming abashed. I giggled. He must've felt so silly, thinking he needed to explain something like that.

"So everyone who is healthy and fit appoints exercise to the children and teens so they'll be fit as well?" I asked to encourage him to go on.

"Exactly," he confirmed with a nod. "Our leader and their second in command have other duties to perform so are usually taken off the list of trainers, but things have been pretty hectic in our society and a lot of the trainers have other tasks; that's why I'm helping out tomorrow."

"But why is training so important that you do it every weekend?" I wondered aloud.

"It helps keep the children healthy... amongst other things." Rhys reached for his glass, picking it up and tilting it towards his lips before he remembered it was empty.

"And the other things are?" I prompted even though given his previous vague reply, I was pretty sure I wouldn't get a satisfying answer. I was pleasantly surprised that I was wrong.

"Exercising in groups doesn't only make you stronger and healthier, Riley. It teaches discipline, teamwork and is also a bonding experience."

"Oh... I never thought about that," I admitted.

"Will you do me a favor?" He asked, getting up. "Will you double check that you've locked the door and windows tonight? Also, keep your phone next to your bed when you go to sleep and call me if you hear or see, or even feel anything strange?"

"Sheesh!" I exclaimed, leaning back in my chair and crossing my arms over my chest. "You are worst than Winnie."

"The short-haired waitress from the Milk & Cream?"

"Yep. She insisted I call her when I get back from my date with you." He raised one bushy eyebrow. "Since you are a member of the Bullets and we haven't known each other for that long," I explained.

"I like her," Rhys commented, a smile spreading on his face.  "She seems like a good friend; you should call her."

A loud thump startled me, bringing me back from my trip to memory land. Winnie had leaned sideways on the bar, her serving tray – the cause of the noise – placed over the smooth service, next to Rhys' mug. Her eyes, still narrowed, were scrutinizing him, but the later didn't look bothered; in fact, he appeared happy with the situation.

"Is this when you tell me that if I break your friend's heart, you'll break my nose?" He calmly asked and the girl smirked.

"Something like it."

"I'm much bigger than you," he pointed out, the corners of his mouth twitching up.

"It's like I always say: the bigger they are, the higher they shriek when you kick them in the balls."

"Winona!" I raised my voice but it was drowned in Rhys' laughter.

"I really do like her," he announced, turning to me.

"She just threatened your balls," I noted, my voice annoyed due to my friend's behavior. I knew that she was looking out for me, but she didn't have to go as far as threatening my boyfriend. And these were no empty words; Winnie would go through with it and she'd probably buy some pointy shoes before that. I wouldn't be surprised if she somehow got her hands on a pair with spikes at the front, even if she had to order and import them from another country.

"True, but she did that for you," he said, standing up.

"Are you leaving so soon?" I asked, the corners of my lips slumping.

"No, I'm just going to the restroom," Rhys reassured me, leaning over the bar to give me another peck like the one he'd greeted me with today. The moment he was out of earshot, I turned to Winnie with every intention to berate her. I paused with my mouth opened, no sound escaping it.

She had her guilty pout on. It was an expression she adopted whenever she felt like she'd done something wrong but wasn't quite ready to admit her mistake just yet.

"What?" She asked quietly when she saw me staring at her.

"Are you changing your mind about Rhys?"

"No." I shook my head as her pout became even more prominent. "Although I guess you two are kind of cute together." She jerked the tray off the bar, swirled around and bounced away to one of the recently vacated tables to tidy it up.

A bell rang and I turned my attention to the person who walked through the door. He was an elderly man, dressed in a white suit with a dark shirt underneath it. His eyes scanned the premises until they landed on me and a wide smile spread over his face as he approached. I furrowed my eyebrows, wondering if I had seen him before. I was sure I had not, yet by the way he looked at me one would say that we were at least acquainted and that I had been the one he sought.

"One regular coffee for the road, thank you, doll." I blinked at the address, my mouth slightly ajar. No one had even called me 'doll' before; I was a guy after all. Definitely not the most rugged representative of the male population, but still a guy.

"Somethin' wrong, sweetheart?"

'Sweetheart'?

The terms he called me were almost strange enough for me to miss his accent. I turned around, silently preparing his order. By the time I faced him again, coffee in hand, he'd leaned over the bar. At this distance I realized he was not as old as I originally thought he was. Sure, his well-groomed hair was all white, but there weren't that many wrinkles on his face and when he reached to take his drinkI didn't notice any of those dark spots that covered senior people's hands. Something in his smile and the sparkle of his dark eyes made me uneasy so instead of handing him the cup, I placed it on the bar and let him take it from there.

"Is he always this shy?" He kept his gaze on me even though he turned his head to the side. I looked left to see who he was talking to and sucked in a sharp breath when I spotted Rhys just a few steps away, jaw clenched almost as tightly as his fists.

"Any particular reason you are in town?" My boyfriend asked quietly, eyes narrowed at the older man.

"Oh, you are a smart boy, Rhys Flemings; I'm sure you can guess," the latter replied, a hint of poison in his tone. "And if you are asking if it is for business or pleasure... Well, you know they are the same for me. Thanks for the coffee, doll." He gave me a little nod and left a few bills before me. I didn't bother to count them and see if I ought to give him change; not that he waited for any. The white-haired man turned around and calmly walked to the door, keeping it open for three teenage girls to walk in. He smiled wildly at them, with that creepy, goose bumps-inducing smile and left.

"Rhys," I uttered when he took his seat. My voice trembled. "Who was that man?"

*****

A/N: Some mystery, huh? Do YOU have any ideas who that guy could be?

What could he want with Rhys and/or Riley?

And what did you think of the chapter in general?

Good one or is it missing something?

I'd appreciate the feedback! :)

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