A wrong day's journey into right

So far it had been one of those days. One of those days you wished you had stayed in bed. Blake Graystone stumbled through the rain-soaked backyards of London’s East End looking for help or at least a nice place to die quietly.
The shirt he was wearing, sticky from the rain and clinging to his muscled chest, had been white at some point but by now the beer some idiot spilled over him earlier that night had stained it. Not to mention the blood which was spilling constantly from the bullet wound in his stomach.
Seriously, who brought a gun to a werewolf fight? You had to be a very special kind of arsehole to do so. A clever arsehole, spineless, yes, a coward, too, but also very clever.
“You had been warned.”
Blake growled. Sure he had been warned but how the hell was he supposed to keep track of all those invoices and last demands he got in the mail? He hadn’t even paid his rent in three months and he was pretty sure the only reason he hadn’t lost his flat by now was the fact that his landlord was terrified of him.
And now they were sending buggers with guns after him! Blake had tried to remove the bullet but failed miserably. It felt like liquid fire was burning through his intestines. He was coughing up blood which surely wasn’t a good sign.
Finally his left leg gave way and he fell right into a pile of garbage bags. Lying there with the trash he looked up into the nightly sky. Dark clouds were blocking off the stars and the moon, the cool rain ran down his bearded face. It was over. He wondered when they would find him and who would care. He was a lone wolf after all. No pack, no family, not even actual friends. The guys from the gym, which he couldn’t afford anymore anyways, might be drinking a pint on him but the only one who’d really miss him was Bill, that damn stray. A cat. It was really telling that Blake was thinking about a freaking cat in his last moments on this fucking world.
He tried to locate the cigarettes in his pocket but just as he found them they slipped his trembling fingers and disappeared between the sticky garbage bags.
“Great… just great…”
Blake closed his eyes and tried to think of something nice. That bloke he had laid the other night. Nah, the guy had sucked and not in the good way. The steak at “The Riverside Pub”. Yeah, that thing was amazing, if only they’d still be willing to put it on his tab. Last time the owner had threatened him with calling the coppers. Bill, curled up on his lap, purring as Blake was running his fingers through the raspy fur. Who would feed him now?
Someone came down the alley humming an annoyingly cheery tune. Blake was barely able to open his eyes, his vision had become blurry. The trash attacked his sense of smell relentlessly, covering up everything else.
The newcomer kneeled down in front of him.
“I’m not dead yet, mate… at least have… the decency to wait… until I am, before mugging me, will ya…?”
Fingers softly touched his scruffy chin. He tried to focus. Long black hair and piercing eyes. Green eyes. At least Blake thought they were green. Keeping his lids up was terribly exhausting.
“Someone had a rough day, eh?”
Blake wanted to flip him off but he couldn’t muster the strength to lift his arm.
“Fuck… you…” he mumbled before finally drifting off into sweet unconsciousness.

~~~

Blake slowly opened his eyes. He felt a coarse little tongue on his cheek. Bill was sitting on his chest, licking his face lovingly.
“Bugger off, will ya…” Blake growled with a smile. The cat jumped off of him and walked out of the room, tail held high.
Blake felt disorientated. The cloudy sky was gone, the rain too. In its place he saw the familiar ceiling with the cracks and the spots of mold. The light from the neon sign outside his window bathed the room in flickering blue and yellow. He tried to sit up but fell back with a groan. Looking down his naked body he noticed bandages across his abdomen. Someone had stitched him up.
His bedroom was empty safe for a closet and the futon he was lying on, well he called it a futon, actually it was just a mattress on the floor. Next to it he found the tools used by whoever had tended to him. A bloody bowl with the bullet still inside it, a disinfecting agent which smelled awful, a pair of tweezers and last but not least Anti-Argentium, a silver antidote which was fucking expensive, and a syringe. Someone had been very thorough here.
He tried to get up a second time, now being prepared for the sharp pain rushing through his body. His jaw tightened as he stood up completely, holding himself up shakingly. His throat felt sore and dry. Moving along the wall carefully he made his way towards the living room, which also contained the small kitchen he barely ever used. Now water from the tab seemed like a heavenly idea.
He froze when he realized he wasn’t alone. The smell of the disinfecting agent had covered up the scent of the man sitting on his couch. Bill had curled up on the man’s lap and enjoyed a massage.
“You shouldn’t be up. Take it slow.”
“Who the fuck are you…?” Blake snarled, using the doorway as support which made his position look much weaker than he wanted it to in the face of an intruder.
“Name’s Griffin. Griffin Blackwood, you can call me Griff, everyone does.”
“Sounds like a fucking character from Harry Potter.”
“Well without giving myself too much praise I did a magical job fixing you up, big boy, didn’t I?”
Blake had to admit he was right. Wounds inflicted by silver weapons took longer to heal and even when a silver bullet was removed it left traces of poisonous metal in the wolf’s body, killing him slowly and painfully. Using the Anti-Argentium had saved his life. He owned this bugger now. Wolf law. A life debt was sacred.
Being back to his senses, more or less at least, allowed Blake to take a closer look at his savior. Handsome fellow actually. Long black hair with several strands dyed in different colours. His sleeveless shirt showed off the many tattoos on his arms and his face reminded him of that actor whose name had slipped him. The guy who played that drunken pirate dude in the Disney movies.
“Done appraising me? What’s the verdict?”
“Why did you save me?”
“Oh, I don’t know. You were dying for a start. Is that enough?”
“No.”
“You are too sexy to die?”
“Sexy?”
Griffin held up his hands defensively. “I’m sorry, maybe that’s the wrong word. You know I don’t really understand the issue guys have with being called sexy by another bloke so if I insulted your manliness you have my sincere apologies.”
Bill didn’t seem to appreciate the abrupt end of the massage. He jumped off Griffin’s lap and went over to Blake, brushing along his legs. That cat was such an opportunist. When he realized he was out of luck here too he left in a huff and strolled off into the bedroom to curl up on the mattress
“I’m gay. So call me sexy all you like, not that I would care.”
Being gay wasn’t really something to be proud of in the world of the wolves. It was frowned upon in most packs, another reason why Blake preferred being a loner.
“Good to know.”
Blake made a step forward but his vision blurred again and the room started to go round in circles.
“Take it slow I said!”
“Fuck you!”
Blake tried to hold himself up but his body betrayed him. He tumbled over and suddenly Griffin was there.
“You goddamn fool.”
They fell onto the mattress. Bill jumped up with an annoyed hiss as Blake’s massive body collapsed over Griffin’s lean frame. Blake felt nauseous all of a sudden, he coughed violently but luckily he managed to keep himself from throwing up. Griffin tried to get up from beneath him as carefully as possible.
“You’re bloody heavy, big boy…” he chuckled warmly when he finally got back to his feet.
“You… how… you were…” Blake was completely disorientated. His mind wasn’t able to grasp what had happened. They had been in the living room, hadn’t they? Griffin kneeled down and pulled the blanket over him.
“Get some rest.” he said tenderly.
“I… don’t understand…”
“All in good time. Rest now.”
Blake wanted to protest, wanted answers to questions he was unable to even phrase at the moment but he was too weak to get up again, too exhausted to open his eyes. His body simply refused to obey him and he fell asleep again.

~~~  

When Blake came to next time he felt much better. The flickering neon lights were gone and bright sunlight had taken its place. Outside he heard the usual commotion on the street below, it was market day. Bill had been sleeping close to him, he got up as Blake started moving, stretched and strolled off into the living room.
“Hey, buddy, you want some too?”
Blake sat up abruptly. The voice sounded vaguely familiar but why was there someone in his flat? Then slowly the memories returned. The remnants of the little homemade surgery had been put away and as Blake ran his fingers over the bandages he felt no pain. He removed them, carefully though, and found his stomach healed aside from some scar tissue where the bullet had entered him. Wounds inflicted by silver weapons mostly left scars, not that Blake would fret about it. He wasn’t a looker anyways, so maybe the scar would add to his ruggedness which guys seemed to like about him. A certain type of blokes at least. He got up and smelled his armpits. A shower. He definitely needed a shower. A gaze into the living room proved the continuous presence of… that bloke. He was rummaging through the kitchen.
“So you’re still here.”
“Indeed.”
“I forgot your name.” Blake scratched his head.
“Griffin. Griff, if you like.”
“Oh right, the Harry Potter character.” A mighty yawn interrupted the awkward conversation. “Going to take a shower.” he mumbled, scratching his naked lower backside now. Without waiting for a reply he went into the small bathroom and took a leak before stepping into the shower. The water actually was hot for a change which made this morning even better. Blake remained under it for minutes. He thought about jerking off, just to add to the good feeling, but ultimately decided not to.
“Breakfast is ready.”
Blake jumped up startled. He hadn’t heard Griffin approach.
“Oh for fuck’s sake, you sneaky bastard.”
Griffin grinned at him and obviously allowed himself a moment of taking in the impression.
“You saw me naked already.”
“Yes, but naked and wet is a whole different thing.”
Blake chuckled and then he remembered something the other man had said. “Wait. Breakfast?”
“Yes?”
“The fridge was empty.”
“I know, safe for some cheap lager. I went out to get something.”
“You… went grocery shopping?”
“Yes.” Griffin shrugged. “There is a market right outside your door, you know?”
“You’re weird.”
“And hungry. Towel off that sexy arse and get it into the living room before everything gets cold.”
Blake sighed heavily and turned around to turn off the water. “You know, you really-“ Griffin was gone. Blake was alone in the bathroom. “Seriously, what the fuck?”

~~~

Coming into the living room Blake was greeted by the smell of bacon, beans, scrambled eggs, sausages and coffee.
“I hope you’re not the tea type, I need my coffee in the morning.”
Blake shrugged and sat down. He had thrown on a tight white shirt and some jeans which at least were close to being clean. The food looked delicious, so he started eating hungrily.
Griffin took the seat opposite of him and smiled amusedly. “Talk about wolfing down.”
“Sorry.” Blake mumbled his mouth full of bacon.
“When was the last time you had something to eat exactly?”
“You wanna gloat?”
“No, I’m curious, you twit. And it is a valid question.”
Blake swallowed down some beans before taking a deep sip of the coffee. “Two days or so. Was out of dosh. My turn.” He stopped eating for a moment and turned his attention towards Griffin. “How the fuck are you doing that?”
“Doing what?”
“Whatever it is you’re doing. Memories of last night are blurry but I remember breaking down here in the living room and suddenly I landed on my futon. And just now you did it too. And how the hell did you get me here last night? You don’t look the type to carry me. And you smell funny. Human, yes, but there is something else. Below the surface.”
Griffin smiled at him over the rim of his cup. He closed his kohl-rimmed eyes for a moment and when he opened them again they were solid black.
Blake gasped. “You’re a demon.”
“And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming, and the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor shall be lifted - nevermore!” Griffin smiled deviously.
“Edgar Allan Poe.”
Griffin’s laughter broke the air of mystery he had tried to create and his eyes returned to normal. “So you’re not freaking out. Good.”
“Why would I? So you’re a parasite controlling a corpse, eh?”
“Excuse me, it’s far more complicated than that and don’t call me a parasite, wolfboy, I was forced into this husk, it wasn’t my choice.” He grinned. “Though I could have gotten it worse, don’t you think?”
“Who’s your master? Did he send you after me?”
“I’m a free demon, thank you very much. I’m my own master. And no-one sent me after you, though I would become paranoid too if I had all those invoices and last demands in my mail. Seriously, mate, that bullet didn’t come as a surprise, did it?”
Griffin being a free demon surprised Blake. He had to admit he didn’t know much about demons, what they were capable off or where they came from. From a different plain or dimension, this much he knew, but other than that they were a mystery to him aside from the fact that they were usually bound to a witch or a warlock.
“Not your business.”
“Actually…”
Blake lifted an eyebrow. Finally, the revelation he had been waiting for. “You’re a debt collector too?”
Griffin chuckled quizzically. “No. I would have a job for you.”
“Okay, who do you want me to kill?”
“Wow, that was quick.”
“I need money.”
“No kidding. However you don’t need to kill anyone – yet. You see me and two friends, we have this thing going-“
“I’m not doing porn. Tried that.”
“I’m not talking about- … wait, you did? Is there any footage?”
“You were talking about a job?” Blake had finished his breakfast. For the first time in ages he felt completely sated.
“A shame… where was I?” Griffin winked at him. “Oh yes, the job. See, my friend is running this joint, a detective agency. We’re sleuths. The big boss is Elaine, she’s a witch, and then there is her husband Rocky, I mean Henry. He’s a gargoyle.”
“Cute. Sounds like a sitcom.”
“Well it can be fun at times.”
“And how do I fit in?”
“Well you’d be the muscle. The guy to kick in doors, beat up the bad guys, save the day, get the girl, I mean boy, you know the drill.”
Blake couldn’t help but smile. This guy was nuts but also very amusing and cute. “How’s the money?”
“Depends on the job honestly but it’s better than silver bullets in backyards.”
“Why me?”
“Coincidence?”
“Try again.” Blake didn’t think highly of his own intellect but he surely wasn’t stupid. This city was too big for a coincidence like that.
“Okay, okay.” Griffin sighed dramatically. “I saw one of your fights and word on the street was you always need money. So I checked with my boss and she said yes but before I could talk to you the bullet thing happened. I can sense death, you know, violent ones, but as much as it sucks to be a living crime detector it helped me find you in time.”
Blake looked at Bill who happily finished up his cat bowl which was filled to the brim for a change. This way of living was leading nowhere but into an early grave. He barely had any money ever and the fights hadn’t been going well lately either. So finally he nodded.
“Okay. Hook me up with your boss.”
“Great!” Griffin jumped up from his seat and came around the table towards him. “Then let’s go!”
Blake realized his intention a second too late. He rose up his arm defensively. “Wait!” Griffin touched him and the room disappeared in a swirling mess.

~~~

Second later they appeared in a small office somewhere else. The heavy smell of incense and herbs hung in the air. Blake felt his breakfast making a return and grabbed the first thing he could make out clearly, a wastepaper basket next to the wooden desk. He threw up violently, spilling his recent meal into the plastic bin. When finally he was done coughing he glared at Griffin angrily.
“Don’t do that again! Ever!”
“Mr. Graystone I take it.”
Blake set down the waste basket. He hadn’t even noticed the woman sitting at the desk. His little show left her surprisingly cool. She didn’t look like a business woman, more like a Wicca selling crystals and love potions. Blonde, curly hair surrounded a handsome face with deeply green eyes which were appraising him calmly.
Blake wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Yes, m’am, sorry for the mess.” He stabbed Griffin with his gaze.
“We’ve all been there, Mr. Graystone, being teleported needs some getting used to.”
“I’d rather not.”
“Sit down.” She gestured towards a comfy chair in front of her desk. Blake looked around the room for the first time. It certainly was cluttered but also rather charming. Full of occult books, maps, there were crystal balls and even some skulls on a shelf. He took the seat she offered.
“Griffin thinks you’d be a good addition to the team. What do you say about that?”
Blake shrugged. “Well if you need someone intimidated or beaten up I’m your man. I’m also quite good with the nose.” He grinned wolfishly, putting his index finger on his nostril. “I’d be willing to help wherever I can. If the money’s right that is.”
“Of course.” She opened a file. “It seems you do have quite a mess of debts on your heel, is that right?”
“Wait, you have a file about me?” He tried to have a look but she closed it again. “Yes, I do.” he admitted. So much for that then. Blake was sure his career as a sleuth had just ended before it even began.
“Then I think it would be best if I gave you an advance to pay off your obligations and you’ll work it off for me before I start paying you in full regularly. I have no use for an employee who is hunted down by debt collectors all the time.”
Blake sat up straight. “You want to pay my debts?”
“And you’ll pay me back. Yes.” Elaine took out a sheet of paper and handed it to him, along with a pen. “This is our contract. Read it and tell me if you’re okay with it.”
“You’d pay my debts and I could work for you? You’d pay me for beating people up and kicking in doors and crap?”
“If you want to put it that way, whenever there is a case, yes. And you’ll be rewarded accordingly. It’s not a prestige kind of work and-“
“Fuck that, I’m game.” Blake signed the contract without even reading it and gave it back to her. Elaine looked at Griffin confusedly.
The demon simply shrugged. “Told you he’d be the guy for us.”
“Okay then, Mr. Graystone.”
“Blake.”
“Hm?”
“Blake. Call me Blake. Mr. Graystone was my father.”
“Well then, Blake.” Elaine smiled. “I guess that settles it then.” She handed over a cheque. “This will take care of your obligations and I will call you when a case comes up. My store and this place is open to you anytime you need us though. We are family here. Or a pack if you will.”
“Lone wolf no more, eh?” Griffin tapped the wolf’s shoulder teasingly.
“If you ever teleport me again without my consent I will rip your arm off.”
Griffin took a step back though his face told a different tale. He was smirking. “I think this calls for a celebration.”
Blake stood up and turned towards him. “So we’re mates now?”
“Well d’uh. I thought that was obvious.”
“Oh, lucky me.”
“Indeed, my wolf, indeed. And to prove the depth of my affection I will ride the tube with you. Terribly inconvenient but it does the trick.”
Blake scoffed but a smile crossed his rugged face. Lone wolf no more. He had to admit he kind of liked the sound of that.