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Chapter 1

Horace

I got you now, you little shit.

I’m scrambling to shut down the hacker that’s been trying to break into the system I’ve been securing for the better of a week now.

It hasn’t been easy, but I finally find what I need to nail the fucker.

“Done!” I slap my hands down and push away from the desk, ready for a little victory protein shake.

The thing about being a computer guru is I very rarely have time to go out and I don’t do a lot of celebrating.

Being a Shifter, though, I need to consume copious amounts of calories, and protein shakes, with a little added ice cream and fruit for fat and flavor, often make up a lot of my meals.

Vanderbilt Systems is the name of my company.

We rent space in an office building in downtown Newark, which is where my employees do their thing.

I live a few minutes away, in the penthouse of a high rise, but I haven’t ever visited the office.

I leave that to my cousin, and the vice president of Vanderbilt Systems , Josh, to handle.

We both grew up in Newark, and I’m the first to admit this area has come a long way.

There’s an old world, historic charm I can appreciate when I seldom leave my penthouse.

Something about the concrete buildings and iron railways, the cozy cafes, and the beautifying projects all make for a lively and interesting place for a curious Bear like me.

See, I get bored easily. I need constant stimulation.

Which is how I got into tech. It’s always changing and constantly reinventing itself.

I build firewalls and software, which can technically be done anywhere, and my clients run the gamut from small businesses to global conglomerates and foreign governments who trust us to keep their data safe.

Usually, I can do that with my eyes closed.

But this project is for a rather unique client.

Uzzi Stregovich.

Oh, his reputation precedes him. The man is a legend. A Witch and the sole owner and operator of Uncle Uzzi’s Magical Matchmaking Services .

He specializes in finding fated mates for supernaturals like me.

Only, I don’t believe in all that.

But I am interested in the fact he’s recently developed an app. Uncle Uzzi’s Date to Mate app, to be precise.

I’ve been working on solving a little bug for him and I have to admit some of the code is like nothing I have ever seen.

He won’t disclose his partners. Something about privacy, and no amount of looking tells me who is responsible for some of the app's finer features.

Like how the fuck did he think of using astronomy and astrology to map out a path to one’s true love?

But I’m not the only one interested in finding out more about this app.

See, the bugs I’d been hired to find aren’t bugs.

It’s a hacker.

And a good one, too.

The fucker has been sneaking in behind the scenes and fucking shit up as he goes.

I caught him now, though. And I already corrected the mess he made.

Done and done.

This gig came to me by means of my favorite private investigator, Douglas McGregor.

He’s a nephew or something of the old Witch who commissioned the software.

Uzzi Stregovich is pretty famous in Supernatural circles.

Me and Doug go way back.

I use his services from time to time, and I’m now just sending the hacker’s information over to Doug.

The Wolf can go have a chat with the asshole on my behalf.

I would go, but I hate people. Seriously. Communication is not my strong point. But do not get the wrong idea.

I don’t want Doug to hurt him. I want him to offer this guy a job.

I am completely serious.

Most hackers make brilliant programmers, and anyone this savvy needed to be on my payroll.

My phone buzzes and I glance at the text coming through from Doug.

Got your message.

On my way.

Terrific.

That’s all done.

I now have a little time for some R&R, which means I have about ten minutes before I get bored out of my fucking mind.

A bored Bear gets into trouble.

And trouble equals an unhappy Bear.

Most people, even other supes, often thought of Bears as slow, lumbering, or lazy.

But that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

See, I’m not lazy.

My mind is always going at lightning speed.

If I’m quiet, it’s probably because I’m thinking of something you have no hope of understanding.

I’m not trying to insult you. I really am that smart.

It’s just facts.

Does that make me a dick?

Maybe.

It’s probably why I’m still single, too.

But what am I supposed to do? I can’t just shut off my brain.

Right as I’m about to open the door to my rooftop sanctuary—a little mini forest in the middle of the city where I have the privacy to shift into my Bear and give the big guy some exercise, my doorbell rings.

What the actual fuck?

No one comes here.

I hate visitors. Plus, I chose this building specifically because of the security.

Shifter run, you know.

Can’t get much better than that.

I pull the door open, eyebrows raised as I take in the older man in a pristine white suit.

“Yeah?”

“Horace Vanderbilt, I presume,” he says, and his lightly accented voice seems amused.

“That’s me. Can I help you?”

“I wanted to come meet the man who fixed my little problem.”

“What?”

“Date to Mate. The app? It’s mine,” he says, and now I’m nodding.

“I fixed it like five minutes ago. How did you get here so fast?”

“I have my ways, Horace. May I come in?”

Shit. Where were my manners?

“Sure, come in,” I say and step up to give him some room.

“Thank you, but just for a moment. There is a lovely pizzeria opening in the lobby downstairs, and I find myself with a craving,” he says, and my stomach growls.

Pizza always sounds good to a hungry Bear.

“I see I am not the only one with a craving,” he remarks, and I shrug with good humor.

“I’m always up for pizza. But what is it I can do for you, Mr. Stregovich?” I ask because really, I am curious.

“Please, won’t you call me Uncle Uzzi? And I believe it is I who can help you, Horace,” he says and walks into my penthouse, stopping to look at some framed paintings on the wall.

I don’t know what they are or how they got there. The interior decorator I hired when I first bought the place was the likely answer.

“Are you a fan of Klimt?”

“Who?”

“Never mind, dear boy,” he says, and his blue eyes are twinkling. “I wanted to thank you for the fine job you did for me in person. You know, this app took ages to complete. But I fear some are not eager to have me entering the digital age with my service,” he murmurs.

He’s not wrong. The hacker was good.

“I blocked the hacker and reinforced your firewall, Mr.—er, I mean, Uncle Uzzi.”

“Indeed, you have. But there is something else, perhaps we can discuss it over an early lunch?”

“Alright,” I agree, my Bear hyper focused on his earlier mention of pizza.

“Wunderbar!”

“Just give me a second to grab my things.”