Part 2 (1/2)

I looked around the dark room. The man couldn't be far away; maybe I would recognize something. The scent of wet dog, sweat, and pennies came with the vision. However, it was over as quickly as it started and I was left blinking at the steering wheel. Paris too was trying to gather his senses.

”Did you recognize him?” I asked, still a little dazed.

”That was Rafe.” He was p.i.s.sed off. Anger and heat filled the van, and it was better than the heater - but dangerous. At least Paris wasn't a new werefox. He wouldn't lose control and s.h.i.+ft.

Paris recovered physically faster from the experience than me, but his anger still hovered over us like a storm cloud. Without another word, we switched seats and were off again. Another vision behind the wheel on an icy road would be a bad combination.

I picked up my warm Styrofoam cup. It felt good on my cold hands and I hoped that it had cooled enough to drink. I tipped the cup up to my mouth and felt the heat against my lips. The warmth travel down my throat to my stomach. Yummo.

”Do you know anyone who would kidnap and hurt Rafe?” I asked because the question needed to be answered. And, things weren't going to get any easier without answers.

”There are people who would like to get rid of Rafe, but I don't think any of them have the b.a.l.l.s do the job. He's our King because he's the most powerful. Who could beat him like that?” Paris asked, watching the road and squeezing the wheel, voice rising.

”I have no idea,” I answered.

I let the subject drop for now because I really didn't want him to pull my steering wheel off. I told Paris the address and we rode the rest of the way in silence. The wind picked up, blowing the snow around the road and making it hard to keep the van steady. Large bare trees lined both sides of the road, creating a strange skeletal effect. It took longer than I expected to get to Buck Road, but we were going only twenty miles an hour. The snow made it hard to see anything more than a few feet ahead.

Through the snow in the distance, I saw red and blue flas.h.i.+ng lights. The van moved at a crawl so we could stop without sliding into anyone's vehicle. Paris parked next to the other cars. I sat there for a moment, just watching, before clipping my little badge onto my coat. It said Supernatural Special Unit Department Expert, and of course, it had my picture and name.

We got out and I immediately put my hands into my pockets. The wind was so gusty that I had to squint so the snow wouldn't go in my eyes. Doyle and Evans stood at the edge of the tree line. They seemed to be comparing notes. The men around them worked with a purpose, collecting evidence in the snow. Their efficiency was probably to get them the h.e.l.l out of the freezing temperatures.

”Glad you could join us,” Doyle said in an aggravated voice as we approached. His blue eyes were angry.

”It's nice to see you too,” I said. I really hoped he wouldn't start yelling. I was starting to get a painful headache.

”Evans will take you to the murder scene. I want to know what did this, Logan. When you're done the coroner will load the body,” he said, finis.h.i.+ng his cigarette and flicking it into the bushes. Evans moved towards us, turning up the collar on his long black wool coat.

”I can move the body?” I asked, starting to sway. The only good thing about the snow was it made everything smell fresh and clean.

”Yeah, everyone else has done their job,” Doyle answered, retrieving his pack of cigarettes and lighter out of his pocket.

”Great, we'll follow the leader. After you,” I said to Evan with a quick nod of my head.

”Could your jeans be any tighter, Wolf?” Evans asked a huge grin on his face.

I glanced down at my jeans, and then gave him the one finger salute. ”Kiss my a.s.s,” I said, blowing him a kiss.

”Anytime, anywhere!” Evans said a serious look in his eyes. I rolled my eyes and kept walking. I don't know why I encouraged him.

Detective Jake Evans is a pain in my a.s.s. He's a little too stuck on himself, but he's a good cop really. And, he's well built too. He stands six foot two with hazel eyes and sandy hair with blond highlights. He could've been a model.

”I bet you get a lot of girls with that line,” I said with a grin. Paris grinned too.

It had taken a long time for Paris to get used to Evans' joking around with me. He'd wanted to kick his a.s.s for a few s.e.xual comments he'd made.

”You know you want me, Logan,” Evans said, winking. The statement struck me as funny; I started to laugh and couldn't stop. Maybe it was all the nervous energy before seeing a murder. ”What ... what's so funny?” he demanded, faking as if he was offended.

We joked until we reach to the murder scene, then we went quiet. We trudged to the edge of the tree line and I slipped down a small slope. The snow was deeper away from the road. I was glad I wore my hiking boots. I slid a little and almost fell, but managed to stay on my feet after doing a ridiculous little dance. At five foot seven, I really didn't have far to fall.

”This scene has made even the strongest of stomachs lose their lunch today, Logan. I've never seen anything like it,” Evans said. He stayed back about ten feet with a grim look on his face. He'd seen enough and didn't care to see it again. Not a good sign.

The snow started out a crisp white, and then went through several shades before turning a deep red. Around the scene, it looked like a macabre snow cone. I stood a couple feet away from the body; it was the only way to wrap my mind around what I was seeing. This scene was three times worse than the first. I had to forget that this was a person and stick to the evidence. I had a job to do without losing my mind or worse, my cookies.

Paris handed me a pair of surgical gloves. He had gotten better at putting on the d.a.m.n things: it was an art form. We had a routine we followed; I examined the body, then Paris did the same. After, we would compare our findings.

Now was the time to get as many details that we could gather. The body lay on its back, positioned to look just right. It screamed posed. I started at the head then slowly worked my way down the body. The cold had preserved it, but we still could lose evidence due to the wind and snow. I bent down and the scent of copper hit me. It's weird that blood smells like copper tastes. I caught a hint of sewage; the intestine had been perforated. The only good thing was the smell wasn't as strong as it could've been.

The exposed body parts body was a faded blue-gray. The lips were a deep purple and the eyes were frozen open in horror. The lower jaw was bruised and twisted; you can't bite if your jaw's broke. The throat had two deep slashes, cutting through her windpipe and esophagus. The temperature had caused the edges of the wound to roll outward and freeze, and the white larynx bone showed. The deep red muscles glistened with ice crystals. There was a lot of damage.

I looked at Paris to say something about the wound, but something was wrong. His mouth hung open as if to speak, and then he abruptly shut it again, not knowing what to say. Several emotions pa.s.sed over his face. But, grief settled on it. Just because he's a werefox didn't mean the gore wouldn't get to him, although it was less likely to.

”Are you alright?” I asked, not really noticing the cold anymore.

”This is Mary,” he said, staring at the body. His eyes had changed to glowing ice green, his werefox eyes. It happened when a shape s.h.i.+fter loses control of their emotions.

”This is the missing werebear?” I asked, looking at him closely.

He nodded, and then shook his head as if he was trying to get past the idea that he knew this person. I had to get back to examining the body. I was sorry this was someone he knew but I had a job to do and this case didn't need his emotional baggage. It needed solving.

”Paris, I want you to go stand with Evans. Don't start any s.h.i.+t,” I said, looking at the body.

”I can handle this,” he said, starting to get angry.

”I'm not asking, I'm telling! I don't have time for any bulls.h.i.+t. Now go,” I said, looking away from him. I wasn't going to back down on this. He was no good to me right now. My night was getting better by the hour.

Paris walked to Evans, looking like I'd put him in time out. I didn't give a s.h.i.+t. I went back to my work, saying a spell so a small ball of light appeared which made examining the body easier. Plus, my flashlight holder was in time out. Murder scenes at night weren't my favorite thing; I'm always afraid I'll miss something important. Me paranoid? Yep.

The skin was cold and hard to the touch. There were bruises and blisters at the wrists, which must have been caused by silver chains. It's the only thing that leaves this kind of damage on a lycanthrope. Both arms were stretched over her head and the wrists still lay on top of one another. Her shoulder-length red hair was frozen and when I moved it, it sounded like Velcro being pulled apart. Her eyes were a cloudy green, as if they'd tried to s.h.i.+eld themselves from the horror.

The pink coat was soaked through with blood and pushed up, revealing the stomach. The top half of her dark blue jeans were shredded, but from the waist down the body wasn't damaged. The blood had congealed and it was cold and sticky to the touch. The main event was the abdomen. A long jagged wound left the whole stomach cavity open. The intestines lay outside the body. They were brownish, the color of old liver. Judging by the scent of sewage, they had been perforated and a greenish-brown liquid seeped out. Thank the G.o.ds for cold weather.

It looked as if someone had put their hands inside her stomach and scrambled everything up. I pushed a couple of organs out of the way. Some killers take a piece of the body for their trophies. The blood on my hand was freezing cold, making them ache. With the weather in single digits, pinpointing the time of death was going to be difficult. I was glad it wasn't my job.

I walked back towards Evans and Paris. ”Evans, do the paramedics have any longer gloves?” I asked.

”I'll check.” Evans answered, blowing into his cold hands and walked away.

I stood next to Paris in the awkward silence. ”I could've handled it. I've seen worse,” he hissed at me. ”h.e.l.l, I've made bigger messes with my own kills!” What Paris had neglected to mention was his food was animals. The Kitsune didn't hunt humans - it was against their laws.

”I see you're going to take the macho bulls.h.i.+t att.i.tude route. How about we just get a ruler and measure your d.i.c.k right now? Than we can by-pa.s.s all the c.r.a.p, you just handed me! I don't have the time or the energy for your childish s.h.i.+t right now,” I said without taking a breath. I could see Evans heading back with the gloves.

I took the gloves without a word and went back to the body. I had a hunch. I had to see if the heart was missing as well, or if it was just the liver. No animals had started scavenging on her yet - well there weren't any tracks - and the bad weather could be the reason why. It was odd for a body to be out in the elements for any amount of time and not be food for something.

Chapter 4.

I stood, took off the large gloves and walked back towards Doyle. I tossed the used gloves at Evans as I pa.s.sed. He b.i.t.c.hed about how expensive his coat was and how he would send me the cleaning bill.