Micah Taylor sat in the chair and looked at his boss even as his stomach dropped. After two years, in which he had received only high praise for his work, he was now being thanked and dismissed. He knew there was little use in arguing, they never changed their minds, but he couldn't help himself. Everything was going so well for him here until now.
"I don't understand. If there is a problem with my work, nobody mentioned it to me. All I've heard is that I do a good job, within the set deadlines and above the requirements."
"That is all true of course. Your work is above reproach." Samuel Jenkins hated having to do this, but his hands were tied. "After the recent attacks, the company feels that you are a liability. People are afraid to come to work, those in other departments. Your co-workers have no qualms at all, if that is of some consolation to you."
Micah uttered a harsh laugh. Oh yes, that was some consolation, except for the fact that he was still going to be out of a job. He needed the money to take care of his mother and sister and very few places hired nightwalkers, even a known half-breed such as himself. At twenty-three, this was his fifth job in three years, and he'd had such hopes for this one. It had lasted so long already that he'd become relaxed and content.
He should have been prepared after the first attack two weeks earlier, but he'd blithely assumed that it wouldn't touch him. These people knew him, after all. They worked with him, attended parties with him and would know that he was not at fault. There were other nightwalkers in the town, and he shouldn't be the one under automatic suspicion.
That wasn't quite fair. He was sure that the other two nightwalkers, bound just as he was, would probably also be dismissed. The thought brought his last possible argument to mind and he took a deep breath. It wouldn't change anything, but he had to try. His family depended on him and his income.
"Mr. Jenkins, please. You know that I'm bound. I get scanned every three months to keep my job, which is much more often than the once a year required by law. If I had attacked those people, I wouldn't be sitting here. I would have died right with the first attack."
"I'm sorry, but the decision is final. The company feels that there is no research to prove that a half-blood nightwalker would be constrained by a binding in the same manner as a full nightwalker." Now Jenkins began to feel uncomfortable as crystalline blue eyes narrowed on his face. He could almost see the thought process that zeroed in on the true unfairness of this dismissal.
"So. With that, I learn that you won't dismiss the other nightwalkers. How unfortunate that I can't prove the binding is effective. I mean, if I attack you and succeed, I'll be dismissed; if I attack you and don't succeed, I'll die a very painful death. I will be visiting lawyers, Mr. Jenkins. Please let the company know that they don't have a legal leg to stand on."
It was an empty threat and they both knew it. Micah felt childish for even uttering it but he had to say something. He didn't stay in the office, even when Jenkins began talking about a severance package. The money would help, but not for long. With all the recent attacks, and being let go from a job where attacks took place, nobody would want to hire him. They would see it as an unacceptable risk. He'd been through it before coming to work in the restoration department here.
The problem was that people knew he'd been born to a nightwalker father and full human mother. Never mind that this was how true nightwalkers existed. If he'd been born five years earlier, such a notation would not have been included in his permanent file. People believed that true nightwalkers were turned and he was part of some kind of new aberration. He couldn't explain the truth, so he kept his mouth shut against the injustice.
Having sold the family car a few months earlier to pay for new medicines after an unexpected hospital stay by his mother, Micah walked home in the darkness. He didn't worry about nightwalkers or other nighttime dangers; they couldn't bother him. There was that, at least. All he had to do was flash his fangs and everyone would leave him alone. Nightwalkers couldn't feed from him and the criminal element wouldn't dare accost him further in case he wasn't bound. They wouldn't take the chance. Besides, even a bound nightwalker could count on the assistance of regular nightwalkers, though they only used it as an excuse. The unbound welcomed any excuse for an attack.
When he next looked up, Micah saw where his feet had taken him. The house, lonely and small since rows of townhouses surrounded it, sat behind a small fence and gate. The tiny yard was the only one on this street. He remembered hearing how the builders of the townhouses tore their hair out when they couldn't buy the property from the elderly owner.
The elderly owner, a lady by the improbable name of Guinevere Lancelot Jones, was dead and buried now. The property had passed on to her grandson, Jack Lancelot Miller, about five years ago. Micah could probably walk through the entire house with his eyes closed he'd been here so often. Tonight would be the last night. He knew Jack wouldn't want him around if he didn't have a job. Best to get it over with. It would be a relief, really.
The front door opened before he was halfway up the walk and he froze in place. Right in front of him, Jack and Becky Harper, the woman who lived next door, were locked together in a passionate embrace. The woman who was married and whose two kids made Jack swear whenever he talked about them.
At least there's no need for a confrontation,
Micah mused as he waited for the pair to see him. Once they did, Jack swearing slightly, Micah simply turned and walked away. It was nice to have someone in his life, but he had long ago lost any feelings for the man. He stayed because it was comfortable and it was easier to have someone than to go out looking when the mood struck.
******
The lights were on when Micah got home from his latest job interview. This one was for a factory that did not have a night shift but needed someone to act as security. The machinery was very valuable, as were the computer systems, and after three break-ins within two months, the owners wanted someone on the site around the clock.
As a nightwalker, even though he was small, he could handle anything that might come up. His strength was above average compared to non-nightwalkers, even if it was nothing like the old movies used to portray. This, coupled with his ability to see in the dark and move with speed and agility, helped him to pass all the tests the interviewers set up for him. So far as he knew, he was the only nightwalker to have applied, which should work in his favor. Another point in his favor was the lack of any other personnel on the premises after nightfall.
There was half an hour until sunrise, but Micah planned on spending a couple of hours with his mother and sister. Unlike turned nightwalkers, he could tolerate all but the strongest sunlight. He only needed to take cover between ten and three most of the year, except for summer, when it extended from nine to about four in the afternoon. He didn't advertise this to anyone, not even lovers, because it usually caused more problems than not.
