This is the sequel to Kidnapping a Werecub. I'm sure you'll be able to follow along just fine even if you haven't read the first book. I must warn you, though, there are spoilers for the first book! For those who have been anticipating this sequel, here it is! Thanks for taking interest in my stories and please review!

-Polished Gem

Chapter 1

The lone figure moved through the crowd. He was almost always alone, but it didn't bother him. That's what he liked to think, anyway. He was an unremarkable figure—one that none of the other students would likely notice. He had taken to wearing nonprescription glasses lately because they made him look studious. They accentuated his nicely formed cheekbones that stood above his normally gaunt cheeks. When times were the worst, they nearly looked like sunken holes. This was because he couldn't eat well when he had the nightmares. But he hadn't had the nightmares in a while, so his cheeks had filled out with a healthy glow.

He caught sight of a graying mustache in the crowd and his heart dropped into his stomach. The man hadn't seemed to have noticed him yet. He dropped his head down as if he was looking at his shoes and thrust into the more populated part of the crowd. He would be just one bobbing head among many.

He silently cursed his predicament, assuming a calm and indifferent expression.

What was Rollson doing here anyway? The man never came to this side of Chicago. This was his territory—not that the werewolf hunter knew it. But Rollson had plenty of werewolves in the slums. Why would he leave when he had so much going for him? Unless he caught word of me, the boy thought. Though he wasn't technically a boy—he had just turned twenty-four in March.

He gritted his teeth. All he wanted was to be left alone. He had things going for him now. Granted, he had to attend a junior college because his grades hadn't been high enough to get him started on his degree right away. But he'd transfer eventually. He wasn't a bad student. He just hadn't had the time to study back in high school. He'd always been involved in missions with the Colonel.

He swallowed sickly as a few memories revived themselves from the tightly-locked cage in his mind. There were always gaps and the memories always managed to pull through when he least wanted to view them. Actually, he never wanted to view them.

Rollson was just another part of his awful past. He didn't want to have anything to do with him or his hunting adventures.

For once in the four months since he had started at the junior college, he actually felt like he stuck out with his short, reddish brown hair and his unremarkable and somewhat good looking features. Stick out like a sore thumb, he thought.

He kept on moving, clustered in the center of the crowd. Figures pressed in on him like an oppressive wall. He didn't like being closed in like this. He was still so used to keeping himself ready for any battle. He couldn't fight in the middle of this crowd. He could barely even move his arms with figures jostling his sides.

He took a glance at the watch on his wrist. Ten minutes until his next class started. The crowd moved along at an inching pace. He took a quick peak upward. Rollson was moving along the crowd in the opposite direction from himself. They would pass each other in moments. Rollson hadn't seemed to have noticed him yet.

He chewed on his lip and tried his best to assume a nonchalant expression if the other man did in fact happen to notice him. He was two feet away. One. The other man passed without incident.

When he was sure the man was out of earshot, he let out the air he was holding in his chest. It exited his body and he closed his eyes briefly in relief.

He was no part of any of it anymore. He was too filled with uncertainty to even make a good decision about werewolves. He didn't know if they were good—if they were just like humans like his sister had said. Maybe his sister was just a special case. Maybe she was just so strong that she had been able to keep herself through the change. All he knew is that he didn't want to murder potentially innocent victims anymore.

He caught sight of the huge amphitheater-sized classroom to the right. He exited the brunt of the crowd, jostling a few people as he left. He took a seat at the back of the room. The seats in front of him lowered a step for each row, creating a semicircle around a stage in the center.

It was the perfect seat. It afforded easy access to the exits and a view of everyone in the room. Nothing would be outside his view. He didn't know why he even thought about things like this anymore. He no longer had a use for the skills. It was something that had been so deeply ingrained into him since his teenage years.

He still worked out on a regular day basis. If he were to be honest with himself, he would have to say that he was almost obsessive about his schedule. Every morning, reflex training was followed by weight lifting and then a long run. If he had enough time, he would stretch all his muscles to keep his flexibility in good condition. Flexibility was an amazingly helpful talent in a fight.

He settled himself into the amazingly soft and plush theater seat, smiling casually. He had managed to escape trouble this time. But Rollson would be back. He was like a bulldog clenching his teeth into a bone. When he got an idea into his brain, he followed through with it like no tomorrow.

How had Rollson found out that he was here in the first place? He hadn't told anyone where he went—not even Jamie. Who had outed him? Who even knew where he was?

He had only two more weeks of classes before summer vacation. He could evade Rollson for two more weeks—he hoped. Then he would be home free. Minus the home, he thought. He would probably head back to Lampton Hill and keep an eye on Jamie. Even if she didn't know he was there. He didn't want to be directly involved in her life and her 'wolf activities.

The whole purpose of moving to Chicago was that it was only a half-hour drive from Lampton hill. He rarely traveled to see Jamie. In fact, she had not seen him since that day the Henderson home had exploded into oblivion. But he had seen her. It was his job to protect her. It always had been. Even if she had a boyfriend now.

He didn't know what to think of Porter. He seemed like he was an alright guy, but he had a hard time thinking any guy was good enough for his sister. She was more amazing than she knew.

But Porter seemed to make her happy. And as long as Jamie was happy, he was content.

A man was moving along the back of the classroom, moving into the room among a group of students. The students separated, moving to the front of the room. The man kept moving in his's direction. He could see him just out of the corner of his eye, but he didn't dare look up so he couldn't get a good enough look at him. His muscles were stiffening beneath the cotton of his shirt, waiting for the worse.

The man leaned over his shoulder and dropped a neatly folded note onto the long thin table in front of him. The note fluttered to land on top of the dark blue binder that he had place in front of him.

Slowly and casually and tilted his jaw up to look at the man. His stomach flip-flopped. Rollson was looking down at him with a faint smile under a thick graying mustache. From up close, he could see the stubble poking intermittently out of Rollson's cheeks and chin. Rollson's fingers fluttered in a tiny wave and the man left the room.

He watched the man's retreating back with a sick feeling in his stomach. You just didn't ignore a note from Rollson. He wasn't a man to be trifled with. He was a dangerous person when he was denied.

With a sigh, he picked up the tiny note and unfolded it.

Doug,

Heard you were in town. I've got my sources. I'm rather offended that you didn't take the time to stop by and chat. Let's make up for lost time. I could use a guy like you at my side. I've seen your work. Meet me tonight at eight and we'll talk business. I have a job for you and I've heard you could use the money. I never expected to see a guy like you in college, but it does make an excellent cover.

Rollson

P.S. I like the glasses. I look forward to our meeting.

A guy like me? He thought with a bristle of offence. Did the man think he wasn't smart enough? Well, he was. And someday he'd be a darn good physical engineer. He was good at stuff like that. How much pressure would cause something to break…how much leverage would allow him to twirl around and land properly. He would just be applying the same ideas to objects instead of himself.

He wasn't going to go to the meeting tonight, he determined. He wouldn't.

But he knew he would. If even just to listen to the proposition. He needed the money badly. He hadn't been able to get hold of the Colonel's money after his death. The bank had taken it all because the Colonel hadn't had a will.

If the jobs too bad, he thought, he could just refuse. And hopefully Rollson wouldn't decide he was a traitor and needed to be killed.