Supernatural Retrieval Agency

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Anticipation builds up inside me as I stare at the building in front of me. I've passed it almost every day of my entire life, but today is different. I get to go inside the Supernatural Retrieval Agency headquarters and get the badge I've been dreaming of since I was six years old and understood the role they played in keeping peace throughout the country.

Not that I completely understood at that age. But I recognised the basics. I'm lucky my parents took me seriously and did everything they could to make sure I had the best education I could so that when the time came for me to take the exams to become part of the Agency, I passed with flying colours.

I check my watch, reassured to see I'm still early and haven't spent too long staring at a building. That wouldn't be a good impression to make on whoever my new partner is.

There aren't many people in reception at this time in the morning, which isn't a surprise. Most people are busy going to their own jobs, not reporting crimes.

"How can I help you?" a bored-looking receptionist asks.

"I'm Harper Jones, I'm here..."

"You're the new girl," he cuts me off, perking up a little. "I thought you'd be a bit more...feathery."

I roll my eyes. The comment has come even faster than I imagined it would. "Sorry to disappoint." I suppose I could offer to get my wings out and sate his curiosity, but I don't think this is the right place to do it. "Where do I need to go?"

"Third floor, room sixteen." His boredom returns instantly. I'd have thought working as a receptionist in a supernatural crime-fighting agency would be exciting, but apparently not.

I head to the stairs and climb them quickly. I'm half tempted to get my wings out and fly up them instead, but that'll be a terrible first impression if the wrong person catches me, and I don't want that.

My toes curl in my boots as I make it to the third floor. It may not be long before I have to let my wings out given the itch in my entire body. Most of the time, I can ignore the urge to let my feet become claws, and my back sprout wings, but that doesn't seem to be the case today. Some days are like that.

I push the sensation down. My first day on a new job isn't the best time for it. Thankfully, all harpies, and supernaturals like us, are taught how to control the urges from as early as we can walk. Humans think they're fine with the supernatural, but only when it comes to vampires, witches, and other humanoid creatures. My kind, not so much. But that's fine by me. Vampires can't fly over the city at night, or perch on a rooftop. I wouldn't give that up for something as simple as looking human all the time.

It only takes me a few minutes to find room sixteen. I take a deep breath, preparing myself for whatever I'm going to find on the other side of the door. I'm not sure why I'm suddenly so nervous. I've been studying the Agency since I was a child, and I've been here several times on school trips and my interviews.

But today is different. I get to finally call this my workplace. And that's terrifying in a way.

The door cracks open and a tall man with brilliant green eyes pops his head around it. "Are you coming inside, Ms Jones?"

My mouth falls open. How does he know my name?

Wait, right. They're expecting me. Of course he knows my name. And why I'm here.

"Yes, coming." I smile as brightly as I can to cover the nerves and follow him into the room.

It's a decent size, with six desks all setup, and a few whiteboards scattered around the room. There's no way to tell the difference between this room and one belonging to a human police force. Which is just the way it's supposed to be.

"So, Ms Jones, you're a harpy, is that right?" the green-eyed man asks.

I nod. "Yes. That's me."

"Good." He ticks a box on a clipboard he's holding, not even seeming interested in the fact I'm a reasonably rare kind of supernatural creature. Maybe it's nothing special here. I guess I'll find out in time.

"I'm Agent Thompson, but you can call me Elias."

"I'm Harper."

He raises an eyebrow, like most people do when they hear my name for the first time.

"I know. It's my Mum, she thought it was funny." Who knows why. I'd rather not be saddled with a name that people have to double-check. But that's not what she decided for me. I suppose I could use a nickname or something, but that doesn't feel right.

"Interesting choice."

"Tell me about it," I mutter.

"Anyway..."

"Aren't you going to ask me to get my wings out?" I mutter, forgetting where I am.

Confusion flits across Elias' face. "Why would I do that?" he asks.

"Everyone does when they find out I'm a harpy."

A smirk plays at his lips. Two huge dark brown wings erupt from his back. I don't need to look down to know his feet have transformed into talons.

I've seen it enough times on myself.

"Ah."

"Yes. Now we've got that out of the way, can we go back to giving you an induction?"

"Sorry." I glance down at the floor.

"It's okay. I'm used to people asking too. But it's best not to assume about species here, you'll make enemies if you're not careful," he warns.

I nod, annoyed at myself for making such a basic mistake. I don't even like people asking to see my wings, why am I upset when someone doesn't.

Elias folds his back in, returning to his human form.

"Thank the feathers for spelled clothing, right?" He sits down on his chair and gestures to the one beside his desk.

I perch on it, not fully able to relax, though I can't put a talon on why.

"My wardrobe would be a lot less practical without it," I agree.

"You'll be even more glad of it here. There are times when normal clothing would rip."

"So we'll be getting into dangerous situations then?" I perk up.

He raises an eyebrow. "You're very eager."

"Isn't that what you want from a new recruit?"

"That depends what you're capable of."

"I can show you, if you want?" I suggest. "I'm happy to spar with you."

Surprise flits across his face, but to my surprise, he nods. "Very well. Once we're done here, we'll go down to the gym and I'll see if you fight as well as you talk."

I lean back in my seat, starting to relax a bit now I'm getting a better sense of him. "That's fine. What else do we need to do here?"

"Very eager," he says under his breath. "Not much. I have your ID card and a couple of forms for you to sign. Your desk is that one." He points to it.

I nod. "Who else works in this room?" I ask. I doubt it's just the two of us given the space.

"Pippa McKenzie and whoever her partner is at the time."

"She goes through them quickly?" What's wrong with her to scare them off? And why do they keep her around if that's the case?

"Not by choice," he assures me. "They like to assign people to partners who are the same supernatural type as one another. Pippa gets anyone who doesn't have a match until one comes along."

"Why do they do that?"

"Give her the odd ones out?"

I shake my head. "Assign people to the same supernatural type." It seems like a strange thing to do for a department whose main purpose is about cooperation.

"It's to do with assignments. If a task involves flying, then it's easier to assign if both partners can do it."

"Hmm."

"Are you already planning on how to change the way the agency works?"

"Do I stand a chance?" I check.

He chuckles and shakes his head. "Definitely not. It's been run this way for as long as I've been here, probably for even longer than that too."

"That's normally a good indicator that things should change," I point out.

"Then you'll need to work your way up to the top to be able to do that. And I'm going to go out on a limb and suggest you have a few decades of work ahead of you to make that a reality."

"One day, it will be," I assure him. "Maybe I'll even be your boss."

He leans back in his seat, an amused grin playing at his lips. "You know, most people don't come in on their first day and announce that they're going to be the boss."

"I'm not most people." The sooner he realises that, the better.

"Do you always claim to be a cliché?" The glint in his eyes is enough for me to know he's teasing.

"Only when it gets me what I want."

"I'm going to have my hands full with you, aren't I?"

"Now who's using clichés?" A smug grin spreads over my face.

Elias' laugh booms through the room, warm and inviting. "If you're ready, we should get to the gym. Then I can see if you can live up to all this talk."

"I can assure you, I'm better."

He smiles and shakes his head. "I hope you're ready."

"I was born ready," I respond, trying to keep a straight face over my choice of words, which was easier said than done.