Marcia strode into the office building with boundless energy. Rusty shot up from his computer.
"Marcy! Thank God you're all right! What happened to you? Did you find anything more out about those werewolves? Or Dr. Lobis-Homen?"
"She's innocent Rusty."
"What?!"
"I just know. Don't ask me how. I can feel it in my heart."
As Marcia walked into her room she suddenly was overcome by doubt. Why had she vouched for the doctor? Why did she have a gap in her memory after spying on the two boy-wolves? She felt at a loss. All she knew was that she felt a calling to return to a msyterious address that evening. It was like the information had been implanted in her head.
Am I going crazy? she thought. It's like I'm wandering between consciousness and dazes.
Her psychic powers seemed blunted by some overpowering force; she could receive suggestions but not send them. Her mind could be read but she was unable to read others.
Rusty's voice suddenly called at her from the intercom.
"Heads up Marcy. You got a customer."
She shook herself and sat up straight. A well-built boy with golden blonde hair and a torn expression on his face walked through the door.
The boy, a well-developed high schooler, cautiously spoke.
"I read about you on the net. You're a Paranormal Private Investigator. Well, I've got a paranormal problem and I need advice."
Marcia snapped into focus. "Yes, Blake, you do."
The boy's eyes flew wide open. "How do you know my name?!"
"That's not important. But your problem is."
The boy's eyes teared up. "He said he'd kill me if I told anyone. But I can't handle it--it's too weird. I need to talk to someone, someone who can help me."
He stood up.
"I hope you'll believe me. It's pretty far out. You see...I'm a werewolf."