The Wolf Hunter by Wednesday Raven

Chapter One: A Walk in the Park
                 
    Lilith jogged every morning starting at 6AM on the dot. She did it if it were raining or snowing, hot or cold, no matter the weather. There was something therapeutic in the way that her shoes hit the pavement causing her muscles to ache afterwards. The reason she did this so religiously were plentiful; it kept her mind free for a little while and off the rage that was inside her and it helped keep her in the condition she needed to be in to hunt at night. What it didn't do was whittle the curves off her body. She gave up on that years ago and now embraced how she looked. Her mirror told her each morning she was a sexy machine that was more fit than many of the stick-figure girls she knew at the gym.
                 
    After a two mile run, Lilith did her cool down by walking a couple of miles in an area of the park she rarely visited, having kept mostly to the paths designated for runners. She weaved around the magnolia trees, stopped to pet a wayward Labrador Retriever, and took a seat next to a food cart vendor.
                 
    She surveyed the park, taking in all the happiness that was already abundant there; moms with toddlers, newly matched couples walking hand in hand, even single people perched near trees reading a book. She knew none of that down time. Every moment of her day was precisely scheduled to provide maximum efficiency. She was a woman on a mission.
     
    It was that maximum efficiency that made Lilith look at her watch, sigh, get off the bench and start headed back to her apartment for a shower before hitting a job interview that was scheduled. If she could nail this interview, she'd be making the same amount of money as her bookstore job, but be putting in half the hours. Less work meant more time to do her true passion.
                 
    With each step that brought her closer to her apartment, Lilith assessed her life since her parents died. After finally getting out of state run care facilities at 18, she'd spent the last eight years with the primary goal of retribution. She bought a crossbow, took lessons, and became an expert markswoman. She lived five miles from the retreat where her parents were massacred. Each night, she threw on a cape, grabbed the crossbow, and set out for target practice. Most nights it was a lesson in futility without seeing any wolves. Some nights they were still too quick. Then there were those few and far between nights where she got her wolf and went home satiated; able to sleep without the nightmares. Only on nights of a kill did the nightmares leave her.
                 
    With one hour left before the big interview, the water felt good against her skin. Left as hot as she could bear it, it was therapeutic, helping to cleanse not just her body, but her soul as well. She stepped out into the steamy bathroom. Her long dark hair dripped onto the towel wrapped around her, as she meandered through the bedroom in search of the right clothes.
                 
    "I hate having to decide what to wear. I'm never good at this." She said, as she pulled outfit after outfit from the closet. Settling on a black knee-length pencil skirt, white button up shirt, and some black pumps, she quickly threw her hair in an up-do, wrapped a scarf around it, and headed into the chilly afternoon toward the corporate offices of Therion Graphics.
                 

                           
    Chapter Two: The Interview
                 
    Abraham was late which didn't help his mood at all. He arrived at the offices of Therion Graphics just in time to hear Sheila, the elderly lady behind the reception desk, bemoan his late arrival, "Six appointees are already here and waiting, Sir."
                 
    "Yes, thank you Sheila, I'm aware." He replied, not even looking up at her as he continued head down into his office. He hated hiring new