A month. That’s all I’ve got to get the job done. One measly month. It usually takes months of planning. I was brought out of my own thoughts by the client’s voice.

“New moon to new moon.” He smirked.

I had to laugh.

“What’s so funny, Slick?”

“Huh?” I rubbed the back of my neck absent-mindedly. “Oh nothing.” I looked into the client’s eyes. “Just thinking about werewolves. You know. If you thought I was a werewolf, maybe you’d have said, ‘Full moon to full moon.’ You know. A werewolf joke.” I smiled, but I rubbed the back of my neck again.

“Hrumph.” He frowned. “If I thought you was a werewolf, I’d’a never thought to hire you. They say them werewolves aren’t in their right mind. They just kill whoever. Targets of opportunity. Not who they’re supposed to...” He paused, then said something under his breath. It sounded like, “Werewolf. Sheesh. Who’d hire a werewolf?”

“Alright. The job’ll be done by the next new moon.”

“And it’ll look like an accident?”

It was my turn to frown. “More or less.”

***

I don’t know if all werewolves do it, but I measured time by the moon. New Moon, Waxing Crescent, First Quarter, Waxing Gibbous, Full Moon, Waning Gibbous, Third Quarter, Waning Crescent, New Moon. New Moon to New Moon was 29 days. One month. One lousy month.

I got the job by the new moon, and by the Waxing Crescent, I had watched the target for a few days. She looked harmless enough. I wondered why the client wanted her gone. Maybe she was a witness to one of his other crimes. Probably. But it didn’t matter. I needed the money. I had to buy more kibble. Ah, werewolf jokes. I had to laugh at myself.

The First Quarter ended a week of observation. I knew the target’s routine. Or at least I thought I did. I would have liked to observe her longer, but I didn’t have the time. So I’d need to plan for the first part of the next week while watching her movements. But I figured it would not be much different. Home, work, gym, home. Then, do it all again the next day. It was technically not very long, but a whole quarter of the moon cycle and each day was the same. Home, work, gym, home. Then, do it all again the next day. Sounded like the lyrics of a bad song. Made me want to howl.

The middle of the week saw the Waxing Gibbous. I saw two days of the same routine. I figured by the Full Moon I could just stay close. Hole up in her house, tear her to shreds, then high tail it out of there. Boy, I cracked myself up with the canine jokes.

But something happened on the day before the Full Moon. The target went to work, then the gym, then she drove out to the woods. Saturday would be the Full Moon, she should have been home. After all, she had not gone anywhere the weekend before. But I just shrugged my shoulders as I continued driving behind her.

I had to follow her from a long distance when we got off the highway onto country roads. The moon was bright and almost full. The Full Moon would be tomorrow night, but whatever moon was between Waxing Gibbous and Full had no name. Like I said, it was bright. Bright enough to let me turn off my lights on the deserted country roads. My eyesight was getting closer to what a wolf might have. Not quite, but close. I could definitely see well enough to follow the target without my lights on.

After a long trip on a dirt road, she finally pulled into what must have been a driveway. I pulled off the road and followed on foot. She eventually pulled up to the front of a rustic cabin. Or what used to be a rustic cabin. She, or somebody, had put a lot of money into this place. It was small, but it was beautiful.

The front porch light was on, but the target disappeared behind the cabin. I did not see her come from behind the cabin, but the target was on that porch opening the door. She had something wrapped in paper in one hand. She opened the door and entered without ever using a key. Just walked right in. We weren’t in Kansas anymore Dorothy. Oh, I made myself laugh again with my canine humor.

I decided to head back to my car and get on up the road a ways so she wouldn’t see me and suspect anything.

***

Sleeping on the ground after the Full Moon was pretty normal. I would wake up naked on the ground covered in leaves or pine needles or just caked in mud. So waking up in the car was disorienting, but much better than the morning after the Full Moon.

I ate a cold breakfast, then hiked down to a hill above the cabin. I needed to make sure that the target was the only person, or animal for that matter, near me. Oh, I could control myself a little, and I remembered most of my monthly nights of bloodlust and transmogrification. I did not know if others of my ilk did, but it was helpful in my line of work. People would chalk up the grisly death to one of the werewolves from the deep dark woods on the mountain. I did not know how many of us there were around, but enough that people attributed every shredded body to us.

I watched from my new vantage point as the target moved back and forth from the cabin to the barn. It must have been where she went last night. This morning she was taking more paper packages into the house. I had to have a looksee. I was curious after all. Good thing I was not a cat. I smiled.

It took until the mid afternoon to get to a spot where I could see what the target was doing in the barn. She was getting all those packages from the freezer. It was like she was getting ready for a big party. Lots of what I finally figured was meat. So strange. Especially since we were in the middle of nowhere.

***

I was not able to get into the house before dusk. But it did not matter. There was definitely meat in that house. Raw meat. And the target was there too. I started to smell her as the moon rose.

The metamorphosis was always agonizing. But this night was different. I was in pain, but I was also intrigued. For the smell that was the target had changed. I was drawn toward the cabin even as I was changing. The front door was open. I sniffed the air. Meat. And something I had never smelled before. I ignored the meat and sought the new smell. The last thought I had was that it was going to be different tonight. The bloodlust took over, and unlike most Full Moon nights, I did not remember anything from that night.

***

I met the client on the Waning Gibbeous instead of waiting for the New Moon.

“What’s wrong? You shakin’ me down for more money? I won’t do it. She’s the devil. She needs to die. It’s a public service to put her out of my misery. She took my lamby-pie.”

“She said your lamby-pie was hunting her. Wanted a trophy on her wall.”

“Well…”

“If you’da told me that she was a werewolf, I never would have taken this job.” I threw a dufflebag full of money at his feet. “Here’s your refund. Plus ten percent for your troubles.” I turned to go.

“Refund! I don’t want a refund. I want her dead!”

I turned back toward my former client. “Just walk away.”

“Walk away! Walk away! I ain’t never walkin’ away! She ripped my lamby-pie to shreds.”

“Well maybe your lambie-pie shouldn’ta oughta went huntin’ for a werewolf. And you need to stop too.” I paused. “After all, our kind doesn’t take kindly to that sort of behavior.”

The client fumbled his words. “Your kind. Your kind. You never said you was a werewolf.”

I shrugged. “I never said I wasn’t either.” I turned to walk away.

The client said something but my mind was elsewhere. I smiled. I was thinking about what a great thing it was to meet a she werewolf who loved to eat meat, and wake up naked on the floor.