Mysterious encounter with the alpha

Lyra, hurry up, the customer is waiting!

I snatch the package from the secretary's hands and run to get on my bike. I work as a courier in New York, and this idiot has just wasted 5 precious minutes of my time because he did not pack well. Time is money, I don't have enough to waste.

I have already done more than 50 kilometers today, yet I would like to be able to do at least two or three more errands to increase my salary for the day. To achieve my goals, I race through traffic, weaving in and out of cars, sometimes catching a bus or a cab to get some speed.

My next client is in the middle of Manhattan. I have to go to the Verona building, in one of the business districts of the Big Apple. It's a place I've never been before despite my work, as it's a rather vampire-like neighborhood and they tend to use their servants for the kind of service I provide. It's not a problem for me to go there though, because money has no smell, no race, no homeland where ever it comes from, so I take it shamelessly.

Following my GPS with one eye, I look at the buildings around me, vaguely wondering what to expect. As far as I know, I've never come across any non-humans, and unlike the rest of the people I'm around I've never been interested in them. Fortunately, vampires are by far the most exposed, so despite the fact that I live in a district exclusively inhabited by my race, I have some knowledge of them.

First of all, knowing that they once hunted my kind for food, I am glad to be protected by the primary agreement. It is a non-aggression pact that forbids hunting and unauthorized consumption of other individuals.

While I've never trusted the law to defend me, the bounty my company offers me for coming so far from my usual neighborhood helps me throw caution to the wind. If things turn out badly, I'll take action when the time comes. It's not the first time I've had to take care of my own safety.

Putting my bike against the wall, I tell myself that after all, all humanoid bipeds look alike, so I don't have to fear them more than the others. Looking up at the building with its impeccable windows and dizzying lines, I also think that most of the people inside must be careful about their image: Eating the delivery man would probably look bad.

Pulling my cap over my head, I tuck my package properly under my arm, before going through the automatic doors, trotting to the reception desk and pushing all doubts out of my brain. The woman at the entrance looks at me with a stern eye, ticking off my jeans torn at the knees and my Carapuce t-shirt. I'm well aware that I'm 19 years old, and past the age of Pokémon, but I don't care what the rest of the world thinks.

Anyway, I'm not here to do a fashion show. Without giving him the time to make the slightest remark, I attack directly:

I have a parcel for Mister Veroni, I have to go up, it's urgent!

She hesitates to give me access to the upper floors, pouting with a disgusted look without stopping staring at me. What does she think? That I come to make graffiti in the building?

Well, at worst I can leave you the package! I say while shrugging my shoulders. For me, it's not a problem, I would say that it's your fault if the customer didn't get it in time...

She bites her lip, worried while triturating her files, weighing the pros and cons, while I pretend to turn the heels.

It's good, it's good! She finally answers me with bad grace. 42nd floor, the first office on the right!

Strategy of the number one courier: When the reception is not warm, oppose an apparent calm and then insinuate that the interlocutor risks his place. This is one of my favorite techniques, I love to see the little department heads go from arrogant to scared. With a smirk, I watch her hand me a badge with her fingertips.

It is to be returned on the way out! She spits at me and turns immediately to face her computer screen.

No joke! I say in an acid tone. Me who dreamed to begin a collection!

I leave, while she throws me a furious glance in corner. The spade was not obligatory, but I added it in supplement for the pleasure.

I walk through the elevator door, finding myself squeezed in among a troop of men and women in dark, severe suits, pulled together. I suppose most of them are bloodsuckers, but I wouldn't know them and I don't really care. I only think about my bonus and in the meantime I slip into a corner to better watch them.

On the 42nd floor, I rush to the indicated office, knocking on the door before entering without waiting for an answer. After all, the sooner I get it over with, the sooner I get out of this place that makes me feel a little uncomfortable.

In my haste, I come face to face with a tall dark-haired man in a suit and tie, whom I bump into, caught in my momentum.

While grumbling against the people with too broad carrures, I make a step backwards, however I hardly moved that he holds me by the arm.

Your smell is very pleasant... He says to me with a dreamy voice while his nostrils dilate.

I blink, perplexed, thinking that he doesn't look sane. Raising an eyebrow, perplexed, I try to disengage myself by explaining to him what I come to make there.

I have a parcel for Mr. Veroni!

He doesn't let go of me, his black eyes staring at me with the intention of entering my soul.

It is me! He says while a smile stretches his lips. What a coincidence, I think we were destined to...

I cut his reply, which I feel will be very heavy, by placing the package against his chest in a slightly brutal way before offering him my tablet for the signature.

Sign here, please! I answer him coldly, giving him a blow of elbow so that he lets go my arm that he still holds firmly.

Once he finally decides to release his grip on my wrist, grabbing the package by reflex, I show him the screen and the place to sign. No matter what, stay professional: strategy number 2 of the delivery man. The technique usually works with all the low-level flirts and paper-pushers who are a little too pissed off.

Unfortunately, this time is one of the failures because he stares at me without moving, as if he was waiting for something else than the parcel which doesn't seem to interest him at all.

His eyes sparkle with a brightness that does not tell me anything worthwhile. Hoping to finish faster, while all my fears seem to take life, I resume trying to keep my calm, despite the uneasiness that grows in me.

Mr. Veroni, do you want your package or not? I asked with insistence.

Against all expectations, another mocking male voice resounds a little further.

So, boss, your pheromones don't work anymore?

I tilt my head forward to get a better look behind my fool of a client, discovering a man sitting on a large walnut desk who looks at us with a smile. He suddenly approaches with a predatory gait, sure of himself as if I'm going to melt under his spell. I squint, observing this tall blond man with pale skin that contrasts strangely with his black suit