They didn’t waste much time as Moira rushed him through the streets. Their pace only slowed once they reached James’s house and a woman in uniform approached them.

“You get all the good-looking fellas, don’t cha?” Sloane scowled as she looked Lincoln up and down.

Lincoln cheeks felt warmer as he reached out to shake her hand. “Why, thank you, I’m …”

“Oh,” she folded her arms. “You’re that Abalonian … well, I guess nobody’s perfect.”

Lincoln let his neglected hand drop as well as his mouth.

Moira took control of the conversation. “Lincoln, this is Sloane. She’s in charge of guarding the house, and she’s a friend.”

“So, what is he doing here?” Sloane eyed Lincoln suspiciously.

Moira pointed to the house. “I want you to ask James if he would be willing to be examined by an Abalonian medic. If he’s cleared, he gets to go free after tonight. But I really want you to stress the Abalonian part.”

“Hmmmm.” Sloane tapped her foot as she gave Lincoln a sideways glance. “Yeah, all right. I think that could work. Just give me a minute to talk with him.”

Sloane left for the house while Lincoln whispered to Moira, “Hey … why is the Abalonian part so important?”

Moira put her arm on his shoulder and led him away and out of sight of the house. “I’m hoping that since you Abalonians know next to nothing about lycanthropy he might think you don’t know what to look for and that you will be a safe bet for his freedom.”

“What? I don’t think that’s fair. It sounds like you’re saying we are a bunch of idiots!”

“You did come here looking for that information, didn’t you?”

“I … I ah … Well … I um … Well, I guess that is true, isn’t it?”

They stood in silence as they waited around the corner for Sloane to return.

She came back to them after a few minutes. From the grin on her face, they knew the response before she even spoke.

Moira spoke first. “He agreed?”

Sloane grinned even wider. “Oh yeah.” She then motioned for him to follow her.

Moira grabbed his arm before he could leave. “Remember what I told you.” Lincoln nodded and followed Sloane to the house.

Lincoln walked up to the door alone. He knocked on the door and waited. It was only a few seconds before the door opened.

James stared Lincoln in the eye and held the door open for him. “Come in.” Lincoln stepped into the dark interior of the house, and James quickly closed it behind him. He then began undoing his belt.

“Wait!”

James hesitated. “What?”

Lincoln motioned to his surroundings. “I need to examine you somewhere with more light, and upstairs preferably.”

The other man gave him a puzzled look. “Why the hell upstairs?”

“You don’t want anyone else seeing you, do you?”

James glanced at a nearby window. “No, no, don’t want that.” Holding his pants up, he ascended the stairs. “Just make this quick.”

Lincoln followed him up the stairs. They made their way to a small room on the east side of the house.

“Is this good enough?” James asked.

“Sure, there’s fine.” Lincoln replied as he walked over to the window. He opened the blinds, allowing the room to fill with sunlight. He briefly scanned the tree outside for Moira. Even though he didn’t see her, he was confident that she was there somewhere, watching them. Lincoln stepped away from the window and instructed James to disrobe. He didn’t watch him as he did so; instead, Lincoln examined the collection of bottles the man kept in this room.

There were many of them displayed along the walls, most of which Lincoln had never heard of. He picked up a few bottles to examine. Haymill Whiskey, Kilburn Brew, O’Brien’s. Sorting through the bottles, Lincoln did find one from his home country. The bottle was from a brewery called Fairstables. He was studying the horse on the label when he was interrupted. “Do you like my collection?” James asked, standing in his underwear.

“It’s very interesting. I’ve never heard of most of these.” Lincoln put the bottle back where he found it.

James shrugged. “They’re from here and there. I try to get my hands on whatever I can.”

Lincoln motioned for him to step forwards. “Can you step in front of the window for me, please?”

James stepped into the light and stood there scratching his short red beard.

Lincoln then instructed him to turn around. James complied.

Lincoln frowned, this wasn’t the man or the creature that had attacked them last night. First of all, the man didn’t seem to recognize him when he opened the door. Moira did say that he wouldn’t retain the wounds that they inflicted on him last night, but the man in front of him was in great condition; he had only a few small scars to speak of. And that was the most condemning evidence of all, none of the scars were bites.

Satisfied, Lincoln told James to turn back around.

James turned to face him. “Did you get a good enough look?”

“Yeah, you’re cleared.” Lincoln stepped forwards and held out his hand. “Thank you for your cooperation.”

James shook his hand. “Oh, no problem. I drop my pants everyday anyways.”

Lincoln left the man alone in the room as he found his own way out of the house.

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