left, jogging out the door.
She shook her head and watched him leave. How in the world was she going to fix this? They had this poor kid believing he had to master the jump in order to live. She paged Osgar to tell him to send Rick down and wrote her notes on her pad.
Ten minutes later Rick entered the room. If knowing how he trained the new recruits wasn’t enough, his stature was a clear indicator of his status in the pack.
At more than six feet, six inches tall, he loomed over her. A few flecks of silver speckled his cropped brown hair. His face was shaved smooth and a jagged scar ran from his left temple to his ear. Steel gray eyes stared unblinking at her.
“Please have a seat, Rick.” She motioned to the chair on the opposite side of the table.
“I’ll stand.” His gruff voice was a perfect match for his rugged presentation.
Sofia swallowed and nodded. “Very well.” She stood, too. “Please explain what happened with Louis last night.”
He didn’t flinch, just stared down at her, his gaze piercing into her like a steak knife into a cupcake. She could just about feel the jagged edges of a blade ripping into her, but she held her own, never once looking away.
She’d learned a few things about werewolves in the past few weeks. First, they were just like vampires with the dominance issues. There was a hierarchy and the higher up you were, the more capable you were of controlling everyone else. Second, everything was a test of dominance—so never, ever let them see you sweat.
Even if you weren’t a werewolf, they tried to dominate you and though they usually existed side by side with humans in a very cordial manner, they believed themselves to be superior.
Sofia didn’t look away in spite of the overwhelming desire to rip her gaze from his and duck into the nearby closet. “Your explanation?” If she was going to succeed in this job, she’d have to hold her own with Rick and every other nonhuman working here.
“A training exercise.”
Sofia scribbled the words on her note pad then circled them. “That’s it? That’s how you explain shoving a young man off a roof?”
“Pushing. Yes.”
“The difference between pushing and shoving is what?” She stood up straight, gripping her pen so tightly she thought it would snap.
Why in the world they continued to differentiate between the two she could not fathom. Either one explained exactly what had been done.
Rick stared straight ahead as though he was studying a spot on the wall. “Sometimes recruits need encouragement. A little push.”
She nodded and noted his response, turned away, and wrote a few more lines on her pad, glanced at Rick, and then continued with her notes. Defining encouragement would become a priority. She’d add it to the Workplace Violence Policy. Encouragement vs. Abuse. She sighed.
“Are we done?” He stood with hands behind his back, legs parted, shoulders squared. He had to be a good three feet wide.
“When you shoved Louis off the roof last night, was it the first time?”
“It was the first and only time I pushed him.”
“Are you stating you did not shove Louis off the roof every other night for the last week?” Her pen stopped moving, and she looked up at Rick, studying his face. He blinked once.
“No.”
“What are you saying?”
“Last night I gave him the necessary encouragement one time. He was incapable of attempting the jump more than once.”
“But you have pushed him off the roof before, correct?” Sofia’s hand tightened even further around her pen.
“You know that to be the case.”
“So, yes?”
The edge of a tattoo showed on Rick’s left bicep below his sleeve. A claw. He nodded.
“And you’ve felt the need to push Louis off the roof every night for the past week for what reason?” She flipped the page of her notepad.
“Your game grows tiresome.” He snickered.
“This would be a lot easier if
She shook her head and watched him leave. How in the world was she going to fix this? They had this poor kid believing he had to master the jump in order to live. She paged Osgar to tell him to send Rick down and wrote her notes on her pad.
Ten minutes later Rick entered the room. If knowing how he trained the new recruits wasn’t enough, his stature was a clear indicator of his status in the pack.
At more than six feet, six inches tall, he loomed over her. A few flecks of silver speckled his cropped brown hair. His face was shaved smooth and a jagged scar ran from his left temple to his ear. Steel gray eyes stared unblinking at her.
“Please have a seat, Rick.” She motioned to the chair on the opposite side of the table.
“I’ll stand.” His gruff voice was a perfect match for his rugged presentation.
Sofia swallowed and nodded. “Very well.” She stood, too. “Please explain what happened with Louis last night.”
He didn’t flinch, just stared down at her, his gaze piercing into her like a steak knife into a cupcake. She could just about feel the jagged edges of a blade ripping into her, but she held her own, never once looking away.
She’d learned a few things about werewolves in the past few weeks. First, they were just like vampires with the dominance issues. There was a hierarchy and the higher up you were, the more capable you were of controlling everyone else. Second, everything was a test of dominance—so never, ever let them see you sweat.
Even if you weren’t a werewolf, they tried to dominate you and though they usually existed side by side with humans in a very cordial manner, they believed themselves to be superior.
Sofia didn’t look away in spite of the overwhelming desire to rip her gaze from his and duck into the nearby closet. “Your explanation?” If she was going to succeed in this job, she’d have to hold her own with Rick and every other nonhuman working here.
“A training exercise.”
Sofia scribbled the words on her note pad then circled them. “That’s it? That’s how you explain shoving a young man off a roof?”
“Pushing. Yes.”
“The difference between pushing and shoving is what?” She stood up straight, gripping her pen so tightly she thought it would snap.
Why in the world they continued to differentiate between the two she could not fathom. Either one explained exactly what had been done.
Rick stared straight ahead as though he was studying a spot on the wall. “Sometimes recruits need encouragement. A little push.”
She nodded and noted his response, turned away, and wrote a few more lines on her pad, glanced at Rick, and then continued with her notes. Defining encouragement would become a priority. She’d add it to the Workplace Violence Policy. Encouragement vs. Abuse. She sighed.
“Are we done?” He stood with hands behind his back, legs parted, shoulders squared. He had to be a good three feet wide.
“When you shoved Louis off the roof last night, was it the first time?”
“It was the first and only time I pushed him.”
“Are you stating you did not shove Louis off the roof every other night for the last week?” Her pen stopped moving, and she looked up at Rick, studying his face. He blinked once.
“No.”
“What are you saying?”
“Last night I gave him the necessary encouragement one time. He was incapable of attempting the jump more than once.”
“But you have pushed him off the roof before, correct?” Sofia’s hand tightened even further around her pen.
“You know that to be the case.”
“So, yes?”
The edge of a tattoo showed on Rick’s left bicep below his sleeve. A claw. He nodded.
“And you’ve felt the need to push Louis off the roof every night for the past week for what reason?” She flipped the page of her notepad.
“Your game grows tiresome.” He snickered.
“This would be a lot easier if
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