Of Wolves and Men (Closed for Apollo Wilde and Ask For More)

A sharp buzzing cut through the silence of the apartment. It was hard, loud, like dragging a chain across a coffee table. Adalia sat in silence, her sleep addled brain trying to make sense of what was happening. It wasn’t very hard to wake the woman from a deep sleep (6 years on the force would do that to you), but it didn’t make the process any less jarring. The buzzing sound rattled her senses again, and this time, she was able to pinpoint where the sound was coming from. Her cell phone on the nightstand shuffled across the night stand, its screen illuminating the darkness. Reaching over, she closed her eyes and answered it.

“..Hello…?” Her voice was husky, filled with the fuzz of sleep.

“Murder down on 6th,” the voice was all business, but slipped to an apologetic tone. “I hate to wake ya up, kid, but you know how it goes. It’s another one of those.”

She sighed, rolling over to her back. She knew. All too well. The fact that she had just worked a 48 hour shift prior meant nothing. The city never slept, and people always found reasons to kill each other. “I’ll be there in 15, but don’t expect anything glamorous.”
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Adalia Clarke was a woman of her word. Somehow, in 15 minutes, she managed to dress something close to professional, and didn’t have the air of someone who didn’t get much sleep. She wore black slacks, black flats, and a white, fitted long sleeve button-down shirt. Her hair, though, was something that continued to elude “professionalism”, and it was this hair that actually turned out to be one of her biggest assets on the job. She had a free-flowing afro, one that had long since grown out to fluff airly about her shoulders. Despite the somewhat wild appearance of it, it was quite easy to tell it was exceedingly well –kept.
Stepping out of her car, she squinted at the light of dawn reflected in the myriad of glass that the city was. The police cordon was already up, and the lights of an ambulance slowly spun. In the middle of the scene was a body, sprawled, tangled, and graying in the morning light. As she took a closer look, her stomach turned just a bit. There was a certain element of apathy that came with the job, but there was no getting used to seeing a dead body. Anyone that said contrary should have their heads examined.

“So, what happened?”

“Wouldn’t we all like to know,” said a cop, flicking a cigarette from his lips before grinding it out. “Bartender said they heard something like an argument between two guys and a girl, then screams and a fight between two guys. Sounded like stuff really got thrown around and then it got quiet. Once it got quiet, that’s when they decided to call.”

“Can’t say that I blame them. Most people wouldn’t want to get caught up in the middle of all of that.” She stepped under the police tape, and walked closer to the body for a closer look.

The M.E. was already there, his eyes haggard behind his glasses. Adalia instantly felt sorry for him. Just as she was often called in in the middle of the night, so was he – and he had a much worse time of it. She pulled on a pair of blue rubber gloves, preparing to get closer to the scene.

“How’s it going, Jackson?” her voice was gentle. When she had prior notice, she usually tried to bring him coffee, a pastry, something. That’s usually how it was among those working homicides. The job was rough, and often it was only the tight bonds of those would worked them was how people got through it.

“Oh, you know, same old same old,” he said, with a shadow of his usual good humor. “I gotta tell ya, Clarke, I haven’t seen anything like this in the city. Not in years. And now it’s literally every other night,” and his voice was troubled.

She had kept herself from getting too close to the body, but now she found herself not having a choice. Standing directly behind Jackson, she took a good look and instantly looked away. It was probably only the fact that her father had been a paramedic that kept her from automatically vomiting. Even so, a nasty taste was left in her mouth. She wondered how Jackson managed to do it. She knelt down beside him, forcing herself to get closer. The smell alone made her stomach twist.

“…Cause of death…?” she managed. It would be a long time before she forgot how this body looked.

“Exsanguination from multiple lacerations,” said Jackson, gesturing to his assistant to cover the body with a sheet. “What bothers me are those lacerations. They don’t look like anything a knife would do. The only thing that it reminds me of is this one case I worked. An eccentric had a habit of keeping big cats, and one day, a tiger decided he was tired of the pampered life. Whatever got this guy, well, he didn’t have a chance.”

“You think it’s a Lycan?” she asked, her eyebrows raised.

“I couldn’t tell you for sure Ada,” he used her nickname as a form of reassurance. The two had worked on and off together for the brief time she had been on homicide, and over these brief exchanges over unfortunates, had gotten to know each other a bit. “As soon as I get a chance to poke around, I’ll let you know whatever else I come up with. But it sure as hell looks like it.”

“Thanks Jackson,” she said with a slight nod, standing up. It was going to be a long night.
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When she made it back to the station, before even setting her purse down, she made a beeline to the coffee machine. Like most things in the station, it was kept on a constant rotation, pumping out the strongest brew that could be imaginable without an espresso machine. Over the years, Adalia and her co-workers had become increasingly inventive on how to get the most out the little they had. Opening up the top of the coffee machine, she nodded her approval. A coworker had discovered that by brewing the same grounds about oh, four times would create in something close enough to a No-Doze pill.

“I thought I’d find you in here,” came a voice behind her. “Sorry again for waking you, kiddo. Now scoot over so I can get some.”

“Of course. Gotta get this day started somehow, 'Lotte,” she said, turning to face the voice as she poured herself a cup. The voice came from a heavier set black woman, dressed in a stylish pantsuit, only faintly wrinkled from her long shift. Adalia smiled, and made way for the other woman. 'Lotte (or Charlotte) was by Adalia’s senior by fifteen years, and had taken in her in when she first started with the department. Charlotte was no stranger to working long hours with no rewards, and how the woman managed to run her family at the same time was a continual mystery to Adalia. Charlotte was everything that Adalia aspired to be within a few years – analytical to an astounding degree, put together, and could crack a suspect in record time.

“So,” said Charlotte, as she refreshed her own cup, “I heard it was quite the scene.” Her voice was softer, marked by concern.

“ ‘Scene’ doesn’t begin to describe it, ‘Lotte, and I’m not going to get into it until after breakfast. Did you guys order anything yet?”

“Kolaches should be here in, oh,” Charlotte looked at her watch, “15 or so. Help yourself when they get in.”

“Oh, I plan on it.”
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Her day had officially started at 4 am. It was now past noon, and Adalia hadn’t slept any more. She had the dull sense that her body was physically tired, but the mental rush of putting the pieces together was what kept her going. At about 8, she began making her phone calls, tracking down witnesses. Normally, there would have been a few on the scene that she could have questioned. However, in this particular case, the murderer seemed smarter than the average hood. He’d waited until the club had emptied, the owner shut down and gone. The area had been quiet, and then bam, the storm broke loose. Without any witnesses on the scene, she had to trawl through every person that had been at the club. For a while, it seemed one dead end after the other.

She was angry enough as it was. There was just something about being a cop that sort of engendered you with a possessive feeling. This was HER city. It was HER job to keep its people safe. Besides, Congress had been nothing but kind to Lycans; hell, she’d voted for the last governor because of his particular stance on equality between the two races. Hell, she was black; she felt it would be straight up contradictory to keep them on those crappy little reservations and away from the general populace. You couldn’t get to a cultural understanding like that. There were those that argued that Lycans (but they called them “Lupies”, short for Lupus, which was really little better than a racial slur) were subhuman and if allowed back into the general populace, the violence levels in the city would reach astounding levels. Why, just look at how savage they were when left to their own devices!

And then a streak of murders like this happen which caused Ada to seriously doubt if she had put her vote in the right place. Rubbing her temples, she went back over the video footage from the club. It was grainy and dark and utter shit. The bartender was helpful, but given all of the noise and women to oogle, it was a wonder he remembered anything at all.

Then, pay dirt.

Some hardbodied blonde was seen leaving with a guy, who, as it turned out, wasn’t the guy she’d come in with. Adalia had driven out to see the girl, who was a mess of running mascara. Speaking to the families of the victims was never easy. The blonde –Emma-, sobbed as she told Adalia about the night before. She had gone out dancing with the victim, but they had gotten into a fight. The victim tended to be the jealous type, which was why Emma was considering leaving him. The victim called her several uncomplimentary terms, which Emma had done in turn as well. The two stormed off their separate ways.

Then this other guy came on the scene. He was polite, apologetic. He’d offered to take her out and away from the club for some fresh air. At this admission, Emma broke into fresh sobs.

“Oh, god,” she stammered out, “I didn’t mean to sleep with the guy, but he was so nice and just passionate and everything Jeremy wasn’t. Jeremy was being such a dick, but I still loved him, you know?”

Adalia said that she knew. She’d been in a few relationships herself, although none were ultimately successful.

“So when we got back, Jeremy was still there, Miss Clarke, he had been drinking that entire time. When I get back with this other guy, he starts yelling. I yelled back at him, the guy I was with yelled at him too, and then I called him a cocksucking asshole and got a taxi. If I had known it would have been the last time I saw him alive…” and she broke down into a fresh torrent of tears. Adalia had put her arm around the blonde’s shoulders, in an effort to comfort her.

And it would just be her luck that Emma didn’t remember the guy’s name.

But at least now she had a lead.

On the roof, the breeze ruffled his hair as he overlooked the crime scene. From there, it was clear that the victim had died from a werewolf attack. A particularly vicious one - the likes of which hadn't been witnessed by humans in years. Ever since the segregation was enforced, humans had grown soft, locking their problems away and virtually ignoring them. The odd politician had used the werewolf 'problem' as a way to garner votes, but in truth, the Lycans would never be allowed back into the cities to mix with the ordinary people.

Wayne could sniff the blood from the corpse, and see the manner of the cuts. Werewolves had the benefit of heightened senses, reactions and strength, but there was also the small problems of transforming into a bloodthirsty animal when their emotions peaked. The myth was that Lycans couldn't control themselves when they transformed, but that was a complete fallacy - all werewolves were capable of controlling themselves, but many gave into the urges and ran riot. It took a strong training and a disciplined mind to harness the beast, but those who could manage it were twice as powerful as the ordinary person. Wayne was a gifted Lycan; he could harness all the power that transformation gave, but stay human at the same time. There was a price, but it was manageable given the right circumstances. Circumstances that Wayne had become very good at manipulating.

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The killer's scent was long gone when he returned to the scene. Wayne had thought he was chasing another red herring last night, and had gone home after dropping that hot piece of ass back to the club. His libido stirred slightly as he remembered the passion they had shared, and the anger she had taken into their intercourse. He didn't feel guilt anymore - he treated the women well and was a considerate lover. There was never a suggestion of long term commitment, he was always clear about that from the start.

Turning away from the grisly sight, he silently cursed under his breath. If only he had stayed a bit longer! Wayne had left that loser Jeremy in the club stinking drunk and yelling wildly - he didn't want to draw attention to himself. He had something to do in this city, and the risk of being discovered by humans was too great. If he couldn't complete his mission, the fallout could potentially be catastrophic.

That caution had turned out to be counterproductive. The murderer must have seen him leave, and then chosen that moment to pounce. Jeremy was a smart choice, if the local police figured out who Wayne was, the suspicion would immediately fall on him, and away from the real killer. Wayne had been tracking him for months, but the killer was a slippery asshole who had managed to wiggle his way out from some really difficult situations.

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Wayne stayed on the rooftops as he made his way back to the motel. Emma, the blonde he had enjoyed last night had probably given his description to the local police. 5'10", with a slightly muscular build, he was a distinctive man. Long flowing hair that befitted a Lycan, and a slightly tan complexion from his asian heritage added to the package. He was a striking man who always drew admiring glances wherever he went. It was an advantage that had served him well, but in this case he needed to find a more ordinary appearance.

Dropping into an alleyway near to the motel, he casually strolled out and into the pharmacy next door. Five minutes later he came out with a set of clippers and some dark red hair dye. He took care to not draw attention to himself as he covered the ground to his hotel, sticking to the back streets, and even avoiding the main entrance.

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A couple of hours later he walked through the hotel lobby. Underneath a simple baseball cap his hair was a new colour, and clipped short. Wayne had swapped the smart clothes for something a lot more casual, loose jeans and an old t-shirt that didnt draw attention to the strong Lycan muscles that rippled under his skin. It wasn't perfect, but the black female detective at reception didn't give him a second glance. Wayne could smell her as soon as he stepped out of the lift - he had seen her at the crime scene and noted the distinctive smell she gave off. Anticipating the police presence, he had packed the few possessions he had into a small rucksack. There was no way she could track him, even if she went into his room.

“Nothing….out of the ordinary whatsoever?” Ada’s voice was low, pleasant – even if she didn’t feel like it. The clerk behind the counter, an older man, raised an eyebrow and looked down his nose at her. “Not at all….” And the clerk paused, sniffed, and seemed to be searching for something non-derogatory to say to her.

“ ‘Detective’, “ she supplied, drily.

“Detective, then,” mumbled the clerk. “No, I haven’t seen anything. That club down the block is always a nuisance. They always have some trouble or the other going on about,” and he waved his hand dismissively. “These young people nowadays, especially the-“ and he cut himself off, realizing what he was about to say.

Adalia raised an eyebrow, and pushed herself off of the counter. It was all too tempting to say something snide, but she was just…over it. She was exhausted and ready to go home. “Well thank you for your time,” and despite her fatigue, she still managed one of her trademark million watt smiles. Adalia was famous for it. She had the kind of smile that always reached her eyes and just made people take notice. It was both sincere, kind, and hinted at just a bit of sex appeal – just enough to keep any heterosexual male wondering.

And even this old fart wasn’t past it, she thought, her smile widening. Kill ‘em with kindness.


Adalia glanced at her wrist. She was an anachronism in a world that moved too fast for her sometimes – she was one of the few people that still wore a wrist watch. From a distance, it would appear to be a delicate rose-gold bracelet. 1900 hours. It was past the first 48, and her lead had just dried up. This guy seemed to have vanished into the wind, and the only thing that kept her from being absolutely infuriated was how tired she was. While she was out chasing her proverbial tail, her chief had called in, yelled at her for not taking a break, yelled at her some more about being valuable, and closed with a kinder yell about going home and getting some rest. He didn’t need exhausted eyes on the evidence.

Fair enough.

Walking towards the exit, she fished past the empty energy shot containers in her purse for her keys….and then she noticed him, walking out of the elevator. Even beneath the cap, she noticed the red hair, and paused. No one wore baseball caps that low unless they were trying to hide their face. The red hair didn’t take well enough for her to think it was a professional dye job, and even from this distance, she could spot the miniscule flecks of red from his brow.

She wasn’t a detective for nothing.

True, she may not have been able to track him if he had left, but that didn’t say anything about catching him before he did. That loose t-shirt wasn’t fooling anyone – at least, not someone who had learned to recognize and categorize builds and distinctive features in a glance. Sure, he could be any muscle bound club goer, but….

Hm.

Something twisted her guts, and it wasn’t the old coffee she’d gulped down earlier. He seemed to be headed somewhere. Packed awfully light for this kind of hotel, too. Her eyes narrowed.

So much for bed rest.

What to do?

She could try to tail him – but stealth wasn’t one of her strong points. It would be better to just ask him. She wasn’t as intimidating as the boys in blue; if anything, she came off as sort of charming and out of place. At least, that was the image that she worked to cultivate. Men tended to underestimate women as it was – this was just a way of luring them into a false sense of security. Each detective had their own way of going about things, and her somewhat bimbo act tended to help in interrogation.

Besides, she didn’t look much like a cop right now. If anything, she looked like any of the other weary businesswomen about the hotel.

“Hey, are you T.M. Revolution?” He probably wouldn’t get it. But T.M . Revolution was the only Asian guy that she could think of with red hair. Maybe she was hopelessly out of date. She reached out, lightly grabbing his shoulder. Mm. Muscles for days. “Just kidding. But now that I have your attention,” she moved up close to him now, the grip on his arm tightening.

There was no telling if this guy was a lunatic or had a weapon or what. She didn’t want him to feel threatened; that would be all over bad news. Her grip suggested more of a “come hither” suggestion than a “don’t move” one. And if he did, well, her hobo bag of a purse also held her taser and an asp – her favorite tool of the trade. “Can we go somewhere and talk?” The urge to cheese it up with a fluttering of her eyelashes was strong, but she resisted.

As he walked towards the exit, something stirred in his mind. He could hear the steps of the female detective draw nearer, her smell building in his nostrils. Wayne feigned ignorance - he maintained his pace and kept a neutral look on his face.

“Hey, are you T.M. Revolution?”

Her voice was surprisingly soft for a cop. He had expected something more commanding. Wayne bore absolutely no resemblance to T.M. Revolution, a japanese singer who had more interesting in banging his fans than making music. That made it clear this detective was interested in him. He felt her hand on his shoulder, detecting the muscles in his build. So much for a disguise. It had really hurt to cut off his hair as well.

“Just kidding. But now that I have your attention,”

Wayne turned his face into a surprised look. Acting came naturally to him, and was the reason why he was selected for this assignment. He used that moment to assess the detective more clearly. She had smooth dark skin, and a highly attractive face that belied the hardened eyes that all seasoned cops have. Simply dressed, it showed off a toned but muscular body that was sculpted through years of chasing down criminals. A female Lycan would have killed for a body like that. The most distinctive part of her was the huge afro that she wore like a badge of pride. He could see that it was well trimmed and maintained. This was clearly a woman who could cause him a lot of trouble.

“Can we go somewhere and talk?”

Person of interest then. He contemplated running, but he felt that it would just make her more determined. His work would be complicated by cops trying to chase him down. It was getting late though - he needed to find release soon. Weighing up the options, Wayne finally came to a decision.

"Sure, I can always make time for a beautiful woman." He tried to sleaze it up as much as possible, to make him seem like an arrogant human male who thought he was God's gift to woman.

"Where do you want to take me?"

Wayne winked, just to compliment the act.

Oh, barf.

Well, it could be worse. He could be ugly and gross. Despite the disgust Ada felt, none of it showed on her face. It was also a testament to her long time on the Force that she didn't immediately turn to goo at the sight of a good looking guy. Ted Bundy was a good example of why any cop worth their salt shouldn't. The prettiest ones were often the most sadistic, the most ruthless, and the most sociopathic when it came to getting what they wanted. He looked to be around the same height, too. Emma hadn't mentioned ethnicity, and Ada could kick herself for not bothering to have asked.

Shit.

"Are you always this charming, or is it my lucky day?" Her voice was amused, bordering between honest excitement and control. Flipping some of her hair from her face, she nonchalantly flashed her badge at him in the same moment, and tucked away again all in one smooth slight of hand. "I'm sure this won't be a surprise, but I do like to keep things discreet. There's a coffee shop right around the block; I'd appreciate your coming with me. My treat," and the way she said it made it sound more like a date than an interrogation. Legally, she couldn't hold him - she had nothing to arrest him on. He fit a suspect list/look, but half of the hardbodies around the town could do that as well. He just happened to be "lucky" enough to be in the right place at the right time and on his way out.

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"Music Cabinet" was an odd name for a coffee shop, but the interior of the place really did look like someone's cabinet. But not in a musty, run down way - the place was cozy, and dimly lit by butter colored candlelight. Taking up a large part of the floor plan was a stage, where an older man sat alternatively strumming a guitar and singing folk songs softly. It was like taking a step back into the 1960s - at least, the way America liked to remember it, without the violence of the Civil Rights and the Vietnam War. Potted plants hung in front of a large stained glass window that overlooked the street. People passed by in blurry figures, growing more distorted the closer they got to the building. Not a single overhead light was on - in the corners of the establishment, there were large Japanese style paper lantern lights, the paper covering muted red and yellow.

A bell above the door chimed to announce their entrance, and a a young girl looked up from wiping down a table. "Ada, good to see you!" she chirped, tucking the towel in the back pocket of her jeans. She had to be in her teens - maybe college freshman? It was hard to tell in the darkened room. She had a smattering of freckles across her face, and frizzy pale red hair. She was short and skinny, a Twiggy reborn.

"I wish everyone was that pleased to see me, Kitty," said Ada as she stood in the doorway, shifting her purse on her shoulder. The air was scented with the heady smell of coffee, incense, and chocolate. Kitty glanced at the tall man beside Ada, and her dark brows shot up and she let out a low whistle. "Who's the dreamboat?"

Ada gave Kitty a lopsided grin, and put her hands on her hips. Laughing, Kitty shook her head, sending stray ginger curls across her face. It was an unspoken communication between the two of them - Kitty was used to Ada bringing less dangerous suspects into the coffee shop, because the whole place screamed "Calm." That, and it was also a haunt of the more "Alternative" and liberal minded cops. The place was swarming with them - not unlike an off duty Irish bar down the street. Ada'd been to the other place a few times, but found Music Cabinet much more her speed. Not that "Music Cabinet" was solely a place of interrogation, though. She was pinched for time, and honestly, it was on her way home.

"The usual?" Kitty asked over her shoulder as she escorted the pair to a smaller table towards the back. As the trio made their way through the snug interior, several men and women either nodded or waved at Ada. "Yes, please, and whatever my esteemed colleague here would like as well."

"Tell ya what, hun, lemme get you a menu. Ada's a creature of habit, so I'll be back in a minute." Kitty gave him a playful wink, and handed him a long menu. "The coffee here is phenomenal," said Ada as Kitty walked away. "But I'm more of a fan of tea, especially after a long day. The paninis aren't bad, either."

She placed her purse beside her, and as she leaned back in the chair, it was like watching something literally snap out of place - in a good way. Ada visibly eased, and her body loosened into long curves and coils. Even her hair seemed a bit more settled.

"So...What's your name? And do you usually roam about in public looking like you have something to hide, or was it just bad timing?" She waved loosely at the baseball cap and the shirt. "Good looking guy like you, usually out hunting for honey, y'know? Not saying that you don't dress like that all the time, but seriously, it's way out of place. And that hotel? Psst, talk about swank! Seems like an awful lot of effort to go through all of the motions of being high class and then do that, you know?"

She may not have had Charlotte's experience, but Adalia did have the innate ability to read people, and to know when they were lying. Her eyes shone with mirth as she only half-watched him, her attention more on the singer.

A brief expressionless look passed over her face, before she masked it with some faked amusement. Wayne had to admit, she was good. Most female cops would have walked away as soon as he started flirting, or asked for his number. Instead he got the subtle show of the badge and the gentle coercion to move to a more intimate place for questioning. Although she played it out like she was interested in him. An ordinary meathead would have been thanking his lucky stars and planning a seduction. Wayne was a lot harder to fool.

---

Wayne assessed the scene as they walked in. Impressive. It was the kind of cafe that was perfect for romancing - a classic interior, softly lit by candlelight, complimented by the soothing voice of a virtually geriatric singer, entrenched in the corner as if it was his retirement plan. The detective was obviously a regular; the young but attractive waitress called out her name as they walked in. This was an easy place for a suspect to drop their guard and start spilling the beans. Wayne wished he had access to a place like this back on the reservation, but Lycans weren't known for their class or subtlety.

Kitty, as Ada called her, led them to a table in the corner. Wayne caught both of them checking him out at points, but he was more focused on the rest of the clientele. A casual glance and a quick smell of the place told him everything - this wasn't just a place to relax, it was a place for cops to relax. He identified at least two off duty officers, maybe more. The smell of gunpowder, and the way they carried themselves was the giveaway. He had to be really careful; if the cops found out a Lycan was on their turf they would shoot first and ask questions later. Humans were touchy when it came to their lupine relatives.

Taking a seat, he couldn't help but admire Ada's form. She really was a magnificent specimen. He felt a movement in his loins, but controlled it. The urge was there, but she wasn't worth the risk. The mission had to come first.

Then the interrogation started. Framing the questions as a casual opener, Ada somehow managed to drop in all the important ones.

"Well babe," Wayne chose his language carefully to maintain the façade. "You can call me John, John Wong." He dropped that last statement in there like he was James Bond. The name he used was one of the most common asian names in the world. There must have been thousands of them.

"My apartment's on the other side of town," he continued, roaming his eyes all over her body, obviously checking her out. "The bathroom is getting refitted this week, so I checked into a hotel. Yeah I chose one kinda far from my place, but I wanted to be near the clubs so I could partaaay." Wayne accentuated the last word, trying to sound as douchy and arrogant as possible. "Women love the swanky hotels huh?" A knowing wink accompanied it.

"As for my threads, well....that's an embarrassing story. My homeboy came to party with me last night, and as a joke he took all my clothes while I was sleeping, leaving me with these raggedy threads. I was just on my way to get some new shit when I ran into the most beautiful woman I've seen in years. Then she asked me on a date, so here I am. I guess I don't need to be dressed to kill for women to like me." Douchy grin.

Kitty chose that moment to return to the table. Wayne ordered an energy drink and a grilled chicken breast with salad. Typical meathead fuel. Looking back at Ada, he felt some disgust leaking out into her smell. His act was working. It was time to transfer that to full repulsion so he could get out of here and back on task.

"Listen babe," he leaned across the table, "I'm thinking you and me, back to my hotel with some champagne and strawberries, and we can make sweet music all night. Whaddya say?"

Okay, seriously gross.

Ada was used to convicts and suspects hitting on her. Some meant it. Others used it as a ploy to hide their guilt. One day, it might be nice to have a nice man, someone decent and dedicated, to actually hit on her. Internally, she sighed. Externally, she rolled her eyes good naturedly. She’d seen it all before, and it wasn’t enough to deter her. As grossed out as she was, he was just suspicious. And there was that nagging feeling in her gut that told her not to give up.

“Wong or Huang?” To many, there wasn’t much of a nuance between the names. For her, there were volumes. He might as well have told her that his name was “John Smith” for as common as ‘Wong’ was. She felt the familiar tickle up her spine, and she rolled her shoulders back. At the same time Kitty delivered “John’s” food, she had set down a cup of fragrant tea in front of Ada. Slowly stirring honey into it, she licked the stickiness from her fingers before taking a slow sip. Audibly sighing in pleasure, she looked into her cup. There was something about this guy that she didn’t trust.

“I see. I’ve never been much for partying; my job keeps me pretty busy, as you can imagine. Well, hopefully you had a good time.”

She ignored his compliments. They were a dime a dozen, and only served to cloud her head. Finishing her tea, she fished for her wallet. Placing a series of bills on the table, she stood up, her hair settling about her shoulders in a cloud. “I’m sure some women are fine with the ones that take less….” Her voice trailed off, she waved her hand idly, “‘work.’ I prefer my men well dressed, well kept, and…” She trailed off, letting her voice carry all the implications that it needed to.

Leaning across the table, her face was about two inches from his. From the recesses of her shirt, her perfume wafted lightly in tune with her pulse. “Here’s my card.” Without breaking eye contact, she slid a card across the table to him. She had no evidence to keep him, but she had spent enough time with him to be able to pick him out again. She would definitely have others keep an eye on him as well.

But the lure of her own bed was too much – there was no getting around that. It took all of her self control to stifle the huge yawn she felt lurking behind her lips. “If something breaks, shakes, or comes loose, do give me a call.”

She was close enough that he could pick up the honey on her breath.

With a smile, she slipped away from the table, leaving him sitting there. God, it would feel good to go home.

The disdain was pouring out of her now. It hurt a bit, having to turn this beautiful woman against him like that, but it was a necessity.

“Wong or Huang?” She countered with, deflecting his question with another. "Wong."

Kitty once again bounced into view, delivering their orders. Ada stirred honey into her tea, and he watched her lick it from her fingers. Then came the rejection. She leaned in, and he could breath in her perfume, smell the honey on her breath, and also taste her skin. He fought to suppress the raging urges of his libido, as she offered him her card as a parting gesture. It took all his self control to lean back with a grin on his face, and say "Goodbye babe," as if she was the one losing out tonight.

Avoiding the sight of her derrière drifting away, Wayne forced himself to refocus on the task at hand. First he needed release.

------

Three hours later, he once again left the hotel. After the incident at the cafe, he had made a beeline straight for one of the local bars. It was easy to pick up a woman there looking for a bit of fun with a hot guy and take her back to his room. Tonight's woman had been Natalia, a pale freckled redhead with a petite body and cute wide eyes. The sex had been more wild than usual, and she had been almost begging for a second round when he kicked her out, making lame excuses about needing to get up early tomorrow. Still, he had saved her number in case.

The clock was turning to midnight as he returned to the rooftops. The Lycan hour, as humans liked to call it. It was remarkable how misinformed the general population were about werewolves. Unlike the legends, it didn't take a full moon for transformation - Lycan could change anytime they felt like it, as long as they transformed at least once a week. If they resisted it any longer, the feral mind became too great too resist, and the werewolf would be especially violent and uncontrollable. Considering all Lycans needed a significant amount of training just to control themselves during regular transformations, going so long without was forbidden in the reservations.

---

The sex had cleared his mind and his senses, and Wayne returned to the crime scene with a new sense of purpose. It was sealed off with the obligatory yellow tape, and there was a solitary officer on duty in a patrol car across the road. Luckily, a drunk couple started arguing outside the club, and the officer's attention was diverted long enough for Wayne jump down unnoticed. The body had been taken away, but the cleaning crew hadn't started yet, so blood was still staining the walls and pavements. Wayne took a deep sniff - there was a ton of lingering smells from all the people who had been working the scene, but he managed to pick out the smell of the victims blood mixed in with the faint whiff of the killer. A shudder ran through his body as his suspicions were confirmed - it was definitely the man he had been hunting.

The argument was reaching its conclusion. Wayne quickly made his way back to the rooftops, following the smell of blood. It was really faint, and would probably not take him anywhere, but right now there were no other leads.
---

It took all of his skills to stay on track. Police sirens, speeding cars and drunken people made plenty of noise to confuse him. At least the restaurants were closed, and the smell of food wouldn't pervade his nostrils. He darted from rooftop to rooftop, illuminated by the pale light of the crescent moon, sometimes doubling back to make sure he was on the right path. It was painstaking work, and he lost the trail twice, but half an hour later he caught a break. The smell of his prey suddenly got stronger - he must have crossed his own path. Wayne realised with a jolt that he was only a few minutes behind the murderer. With renewed vigour he chased down the smell, and a short while later found himself standing in front of a modest block of apartments on the West side of town.

Why would the murderer be here? In all the time he had been chasing this man, the prey had always hid in the shadows, moving quickly and avoiding crowds. The past day had been contrary to this - the savage murder of a human which would draw attention to himself, and now he was in a decent looking apartment block? Wayne needed answers, and this was no time for caution.

Approaching the main door, he noticed that it was slightly ajar. That was unusual, these apartment blocks had doors that closed automatically for security purposes. Wayne slipped through the door, trying to stay as quiet as possible. The small lobby was disappointing empty. He took another sniff, and picked up another familiar smell - Ada's perfume?

Why would he, indeed?
___

Slinging her keys on a small table next to the door, Ada sighed as she slid into her apartment. Kicking her foot out of one of her flats, she paused for a moment to use the toes of her now shoeless foot to help pry off the flat on her other foot. Sweeping them out of the doorway, she slung her purse on the floor, unbuttoning her pants. They’d be wrinkled to all hell if she left them on the floor all night, but the siren song of her bed was too sweet to ignore.

Hopping out of the puddled fabric, she reached under her shirt to undo her bra strap and deftly slipped one arm after the other out of the shoulder straps, and pulled it off of her body. Now bra-less, she scratched at the underside of her left breast. Yawing, she staggered through the apartment, heading towards her bed…
And then she heard the knock on the door.

“God DAMN it,” she snarled. It was so tempting to act like she wasn’t at home. But if it was who she thought it was, there would be no fooling him. There was NEVER any fooling him.

“Go away, WADE.” His name was snarled.

“Oh, come on, baby cakes! I stayed up all night just to make sure you got home okay!” His voice was muffled behind the closed door. Ada dropped her head into her hand, rubbing at her forehead.

“Sweetness, I’m making the facceeeee…..you wouldn’t want to leave me out here, all alone, making the facceeeeee…..I’ll start singing….” His voice was sing-song, childish. Truly the type of man who knew how to get what he wanted.

“Okay, okay!” she hissed, hopping over her pants to open the door just the slightest crack. “So just that you know, I’m not putting my pants back on.” She glared through the crack, hoping that her gaze was as angry as she wanted it to be.

Wade pouted, trembling his lower lip and widening his dark eyes. Wade was a…character. He lived across the hall in 3 C, and had taken a shine to Ada since the day she moved in and literally ran into him as she carried some boxes. He had to be in his early thirties – lithe build, almost a little too skinny. His brown hair was cut short, but was always…unkempt looking in a way that worked for him. And he had the most epic side burns that she had ever seen. But on him, it just added to his rough charm. He worked the night shift at some factory or the other, and was still in his work clothes, light blue and stained with thick grease.

“I just wanted to say ‘Hello,’” and he grinned a million watt grin at him, smile lines curving from his eyes.

Her lips tightened as she glared at him.

“You’ve said hello. Now go away.”

“Why you gotta be like that, babe?” He puckered his lips at her. She resisted the urge to slam the door on his lips. Normally she could suffer through Wade's pet names, but being called 'babe' reminded her all too much of a certain Mr. Wong.

“Wade, seriously. I need. To. Get. To. Bed.” Her tone was much more hostile now. Sensing that he'd struck a nerve, Wade's grin only grew wider.

“Rough night?” He slipped his body closer to the crack, wedging an arm in to get her to open the door wider. Unconsciously, she opened it. She must be exhausted – even Wade’s stupid grin looked attractive. There was some sort of strange animal magnetism that kept her humoring him.

“They’re always rough. Seriously, Wade,” and her angry face slipped, a smile inching around the corners of her mouth. “I need to get to bed.”

The cocky smile that seemed plastered on Wade’s face gave way to a softer expression, and he eased from her door way. “Coffee when you’re coherent?”

She smiled, looking up at him from the door as she gently closed it further, narrowing it back down to the smallest of slivers. “Of course.”

The last thing she saw was his smiling face. “I’ll hold you to it, sweetness,” he said, softly.

Leaning back against the now closed door, Ada smiled a little. Wade was good people. Well, at least not….insane. He listened to her, did honestly try to check up on her every once in a while, and could be good company. He understood the strain of working odd hours.

Too bad she didn’t have the same senses that Wayne possessed. She didn’t know the half of it.

This was getting more complicated at every turn. Wayne paused for a moment to think about his next move. As looked around, a name caught his eye out on the rack of mailboxes. Wade Palmer. He leaned towards it and sniffed it to catch a scent. Letting out a growl, he noted the door number, and called the lift.

-----

3C. The smell of Ada's perfume lingered in the corridor, mixed with Wade, and the killer. Wayne silently cursed as he realised the killer had already left. Following the trail would normally make sense, but there was some business to attend to first. Taking a breath, he knocked on the door.

"You again? Didn't I give you enough...." Wade's voice echoed through the doorway as he opened it, not even looking at the person standing in front of him.

"How about information?"

Wade looked up, and his eyes widened.

"Oh SHIT!" he shouted, and tried to slam the door, but Wayne had anticipated that. With an iron grip he pushed the door open, and in a smooth movement kicked Wade to the floor. Wade scrabbled to his feet, and bolted into the living room. Following, Wayne heard a growl, and had to quickly jump aside as the Lycan attempted a football style tackle. Turning to face him, Wayne sized up the transformation.

"So that's how you want to play this?" he said with a laugh. Wade snarled and swiped a clawed hand at his head. Wayne swatted the hand aside, and slammed his knee into the werewolf's midriff. As he let out a howl, Wayne followed up with a chop into the back of the head, and then diving onto him to slap on a chinlock. Wade's body shrank back to human form in an attempt to escape, but Wayne just pulled the lock in harder.

"I don't even need to transform to deal with you," he snarled. "Now stop this shit and tell me what I need to know before I knock you out and send you back to the reservation."
"I give up! But.......I don't know what you want, I.....can't help you?"
"Don't fuck with me Wade." Wayne tightened the grip around his neck, and was rewarded with a squeal.
"Alright alright! Give....... me some air won't...... you?"
"Information. NOW!"
"Fine! Remus was just.....here." Wade spoke in ragged breaths as he suffered in the chinlock.
"What did he want?"
"The drug! He........wanted to know about the drug!"
"What drug?" This wasn't what Wayne was expecting.

------

Wade had been always been a strange one. Back on the reservation he was a loner, which is unusual even for Lycans. Much like wolves, Lycans preferred to keep to packs - these could be determined by family, or by friendship, but Wade had rejected his family pack. One day, when he turned 16 he disappeared completely. Before long he'd surfaced in the nearest town, getting involved in the local criminal community. Wayne had gone to hunt him down, but Wade had got wind and bolted before Wayne got there. Since Wayne was only a junior at the time, the case was passed onto others, who hunted Wade across the plains until he finally settled in the City. By then, Wade had cultivated a number of contacts in the criminal and underground Lycan communities, so there was a change of heart. Wade was left alone, but only on the condition that he cooperate with the reservation anytime it was required.

The fact that Wade was so spooked was suspicious. He'd been contacted by other agents before and had dealt with the situations smoothly. What was different this time?

------

"It's called.....Guardian."
"What's so special about this drug?" Wayne couldn't mask the curiosity in his voice.
"You don't know??" Wade spluttered.
"Enlighten me."
"It's like cocaine for humans. It makes a Lycan.....stronger."
"Like a steriod?" He loosened his grip so that Wade could talk better.
"No you idiot! Aren't you supposed to be the number 1 agent?"
"Wade, don't forget who's holding you in a headlock right now." Wayne growled, "Tell me what it does."
"When we transform, it makes us feel like we're on crack, but better. And we get even stronger. Like Hulk strong."
"What?!"
"I'm not shitting you man! I saw someone try that shit and not even bullets could take him down."

This was bad. A drug like that could seriously upset the delicate balance of power between the humans and the Lycans.

"You told Remus where to find it. Are you fucking crazy?"
"Jesus man do you think I had a choice? You're a badass, but Remus is on another level! He's insane!."

Wayne was about to reply when he heard a door open in the corridor. With a start, he realised the front door to Wade's apartment was still ajar.

“What in the HELL is going on?!” she boomed, her gun pointed squarely at the two men. While most people tended to...ignore certain sounds within the city, Ada didn’t have that luxury.

It also didn’t help that she was right across the hallway.

Although she was utterly exhausted, it wasn’t apparent in how she held herself. Her sight didn’t waver - and the fact that she was dressed in her pjs didn’t help. So, whatever image of a hardass cop that she could have projected was dampened (perhaps slightly?) by the loose Hello Kitty tank top, loose knee socks, and lack of pants. She had a soft spot for “cute” things.

Her eyebrows raised and her mouth dropped as she really registered what was going on. “Wade...” a pregnant pause, a beat held in the air. And her eyes narrowed at the same time a triumphant glint danced across them. “YOU.”

She gestured at Wayne, holding the gun loosely. “Nice to see you again, Mr. Wong.”

Wade, rubbing his throat, looked at Wayne and then to Ada. Ada to Wayne. Wayne to Ada. Figuring that it was a battle that he couldn’t possibly win, sighed and looked down at the ground. “How do you two know each other? And close the door, for Christ’s sake!” The playful, bantering tone was completely gone from his voice. It was something similar to anger, but not quite there.

Wade knew, simply, that he was outclassed. He was lucky enough to have dodged dealing with Wayne’s superior strength, and he knew enough about Ada that she was not only a crack shot, but no slouch in the martial arts department. True, she was no match for a Lycan, but that gun of hers would even the odds considerably. And, on top of ALL of that, with her being a cop, she could haul both of them back to the Reservation with some serious repercussions.

Ada nudged the door shut with her foot, quiet as a cat. “With all that racket, we’re lucky that the entire building didn’t come up here. Still,” and she kept her gun trained on the two of them, “I don’t imagine that it will be long before the rest of the cops show up. Now, then....” she trailed off, her expression begging for an explanation.

Wade looked nervously at Wayne, his light eyes begging for help.

Wayne let out a heavy sigh. This wasn't an ideal situation, but right now he couldn't think of any other options. Being a fugitive from the human police would complicate things immensely. Raising his hands, he motioned towards the chairs.

"Just lower the gun ok? We're not your problem here." When she didn't move, he added, "At least sit down? You're not in danger. Not from me, and definitely not from him." Wade nodded in agreement, partially in deference to the pointed look Wayne had just given him.

Ada gently sidestepped and settled into one of the chairs. Obviously dressed for bed, her hair was slightly messy, and the Hello Kitty outfit she wore wasn't exactly intimidating. The regulation automatic handgun sent a clear message though, and the sight didn't waver from him even when she was seated. Wayne made a point of ignoring the gun - he had no doubt that Ada was a good shot, but there wasn't a human alive faster than him. Wade on the other hand had got soft from living in the city, and a gun was a massive equaliser.

"So my name isn't John Wong," he started, lowering into a cheap Ikea chair. Obviously petty crime and being an informant didn't pay that well. "And as you have obviously noticed, I am a Lycan, and so is little Wade here." Wayne flicked his thumb in disdain, and Wade pouted in response.

"Why are we in the city? Well your neighbour prefers to be here than in the reservation, so he hides out doing odd jobs and letting us know how good things are for humans." Wayne stretched out his arms, and eased his back into the chair. Perhaps this cheap furniture wasn't so bad.

"As for myself, I'm looking for someone." He noticed Ada's muscles tensing, and her scent took on a more deliberate edge as she focused on his words. "Someone who brutally murdered a man last night."

I must be tired.

Very tired.

Folding her legs under her, she sat down in one of the chairs, a dazed look beginning to creep onto her face. This was a bit much. Everything had just fallen into place - and she realized her neighbor, stupid, goofy, sometimes attractive Wade was a Lycan.

A Lycan.

She looked over at Wade, her eyes widening ever so slightly. She was instantly torn - her police side told her she should report the both of them; her human side told her to remain quiet.

“Wade....seriously....?” She would have asked why he never told her, but she knew the answer even before she bothered to let it slip from her lips.

Wade shrugged sheepishly. The scent he sent off to Wayne was mixed; there was some regret, some embarrassment, some lingering of an attraction. It was fairly uncommon for Lycans and humans to carry on relationships, but it didn’t mean that it never happened. If Wayne had any senses, it would have been obvious that Wade had a bit of a soft spot for Ada. If it was from actual desire or just friendship, well, that was a bit more complicated.

For Wade never really fit in with the rest of his pack. He always felt different; outcast. Since he left the reservation, he found that he had fit in much better with humans. When he had moved into this particular apartment, he was surprised to find this woman keeping odd hours, coming and going whenever she pleased....so he had stopped her one night out of curiosity. Expecting a rebuff, he was surprised when she had greeted him kindly, a smile on her face even though her eyes were exhausted. Instinctively, he looked up at her, his eyes pleading a little.

“There’s no real easy way to put it...” he started, rubbing the back of his neck. The hairs were still raised because of the scuffle with Wayne. It was hard to keep calm with Wayne around. The other Lycan had no problem with throwing his weight around: very much an Alpha male.

“.....I can see that,” and she sighed. Setting her gun down on the ground, she looked back at the two men. “So, what is your name? Off the books at this point, I guess....”

Ada wasn’t prone to nervous fidgeting. But her fingers kept tangling in her airy afro. Her legs jiggled. She kept pulling at the straps of her tank top. It came off as charming. For her, it was nerve-wracking. She had never been this close to a Lycan before, let alone two. And her curiosity got the better of her.

Standing up, she stood over Wayne, and knelt, her breasts eye level with him a moment before her own eyes met his. For a long while, she looked into them. He looked like any other human, seemed like any other. Reaching forward, she gently began to poke and probe at his arms, exploring. He certainly felt like any other man.

“You were snooping around my case,” she said flatly, not stopping in her exploration of his form. He didn’t even feel any hairier. Waiting for him to answer her, she put just a bit of distance between them. She wanted to get a good look at his teeth. It was tempting to let him in on what she knew, what she thought she knew, but she needed to know what she was dealing with first. “I’m dealing with both of you on extremely good faith,” and her voice was softer now. “I should haul both of your butts in....” she trailed off. “But I can’t. Not in good conscience.” Let them think she was stupid. If her bleeding heart became an issue, there had to be a way to fix it in the future. But right now, she had to go with her gut.

There was a lot of confusion in the air. Not just from Ada, but also from Wade, who was quite close to peeing his pants in fear. Being outed as a Lycan in a human city can do that. Wayne felt a small amount of sympathy, but not much. Wade had turned his back on Lycans and made the choice to live in the city - being discovered was an inevitability. Living across the hall from a human policewoman wasn't exactly the smartest choice for someone who needed to blend into the scenery, but Wayne could hardly fault Wade for wanting to be close to an attractive woman who he obviously had some sort of rapport with.

Wade had done a good job of masking his true self. Ada was genuinely surprised, and a little betrayed too. There was some sort of attachment between them, but Wayne could sense that it wasn't amorous, especially from Ada's side. Wade on the other hand was practically smitten. As Ada approached Wayne, he could feel the jealously pouring out from him, even more so when Ada started touching Wayne's arms. Wayne didn't do anything to stop her - he knew she would be curious, and he didn't want her to feel threatened. Seeing Wade squirm was an added bonus.

"My real name is Wayne Long," he started, "No bullshit this time."

"I didn't plan on coming to the city, but the one I'm chasing led me here," he continued, keeping his voice flat. Keeping his eyes locked on Ada's. She cut a distracting figure in what was obviously her sleeping clothes and Wayne was having trouble avoiding it.

"In the reservation I'm a enforcer. Your equivalent if you will. Like your human police officers, I'm stronger, faster, and have a lot more training than the average Lycan." Maintaining eye contact with Ada, he leaned forward, picked up a broken piece of chair off the floor and tossed it at Wade, who was edging towards the door. "I'm not done with you yet Wade!"

"I've spent the last 3 months tracking an escaped Lycan prisoner called Remus. "

-------

Remus. The first time Wayne heard that name was when he was still a rookie Enforcer. As the name suggests, Remus was from one of the main families, and carried a lot of power and influence. Humans always thought Lycans were savages, but in the reservation there was a hierarchy, governed and overseen by the oldest Lycan families. Not quite the democracy the humans loved to champion - werewolves believed that the strongest deserved to rule, and power was often passed down through family lines. Remus was no exception, as a human he was intelligent, persuasive and charming. As a Lycan he was brutal and cold blooded, blessed with incredible speed and strength that was a result of careful breeding. With such gifts, Remus was inevitably trained as an Enforcer - and rose easily through the ranks until he became the Commander.

Wayne was an unusual specimen - he wasn't from one of the main families, and his gifts were a surprise to everyone around him. Joining the Enforcers, Wayne wanted to help Lycans to overcome their savagery - he felt that if Lycans could show more respect to humans, they wouldn't have to be exiled to the reservation. Humans could truly enjoy freedom, and he wanted the same.

Remus had other ideas. When he became Commander of the Enforcers he began to advocate more violent methods. Twisted by power, he allowed Enforcers to become corrupted by their strength, and more draconian in their methods. Before long it was clear that Remus had become a believer in Lycan supremacy, and intended to transform the Enforcers into a army that would lead the fight against humans. Appalled at this, the Lycan government declared Remus a criminal. In retaliation, he led a group of his most zealous supporters against the government, intending to slaughter them so that he could take their place. Wayne was of of the Enforcers who stood against Remus, in a battle so bloody that when it was over, nearly half the Enforcers were killed. As the dust settled, Remus was imprisoned, and Wayne became the new Commander.

----------

"Remus is a dangerous man. He believes in Lycan supremacy, and treats any other life with disdain." Wayne couldn't help letting some of his anger towards Remus spill out into his words. "He's also clever, resourceful, and a savage beast. I need to stop him before he can kill again. I know this is a lot to take in, but lives are at stake here. The longer Remus runs free, the more people are at risk."

“What makes you think that Remus killed this guy? And if he did, why just some random guy from a club?” She settled back into a free chair, crossing her legs under her. Now that she had literally felt Wayne out, it was time for her mind to start working. Powering through the cobwebs of utter exhaustion, she stifled a yawn behind her hand. Her gun on the floor in front of her, she made sure to keep it within easy reaching distance. Though her sense of hearing wasn’t as good as the lycans, she was sure to keep some sense of what was going on in the hallway.

Wade, caught in his attempt to escape, slunk back inside. Ada shot him a look with a raised eyebrow. “Look,” and her eyes raised back to Wayne, “What makes you think this club goer even died of a Lycan attack? Mr. Wong, I appreciate what you’re doing here....but don’t you think it would be easier if you worked with the police force here? If we can make a good enough case for your being here, you might have better access to the way we do things.”

Ada was tired, but she wasn’t stupid. Her knowledge of Lycans went pretty much along the lines of most humans - fanciful stories, old wives tales, 30 second sound bites on the radio and sad eyes of Lycan children asking for donations around the holidays. She had much to learn about Wayne and his people’s way of doing things, but there were ways of going about it.

“Hear me out,” and she held up her hands to keep him from speaking. “I know you have your reasons for keeping quiet. If we even know about Enforcers here on the Force, I couldn’t tell you. This is the first I’ve heard of it - but to be completely honest with you, this isn’t something I follow a whole hell of a lot. I do my part by who I vote with, and I donate, but I’ve never spent any time on the reservations. I’m just a by-stander, and I have no qualms with telling you that. I see this, right now, as a chance for me to get to learn how you and your people work. Time for me to put my money where my mouth is....”

She trailed off, hiding her words behind another huge yawn. Evens or Odds. It was time for a gamble now.

“Mr. Long....I’m going to have to trust you. And you too, Wade. You’ve been my neighbor for how long? And you’ve been a Lycan this entire time....and you’ve never done me any harm, nor have I you. Unless you count the time I made that awful cake and you ate the entire thing because you didn’t want to hurt my feelings,” and she smiled at Wade. “I’m asking you two to trust me. I need to get some rest....and I need to believe, know, that you two will be here when I wake up. Wade, I’m not going to take you in. Mr. Long, I think I’ve got an idea to get you to partner up with me so you can see what I have and have access to what I have, but you are going to have to trust me as well. I assume you still have my card?”

Standing up, she stretched, the flesh of her stomach going taunt with the motion. Reaching down to scratch at her leg under the bulge of her sock, she sighed. “I’m asking a lot, I know. But this is my city - and if something this big is going down, then I need to do my part to make sure that people are going to be protected and that I don’t allow something to happen that would further damage the relationships between Lycans and humans.”

Her eyes lit up a bit. “Mr. Long....you can stay with me. If you need to,” she added hastily. God, that didn’t sound right. “The reason being is that I don’t want to do anything that will arouse suspicion. We need to think of some reason that you’d be here with both me and Wade. A relative or something. I don’t know. Think on it.”

Picking up her gun, she carefully tucked it away within the waist band of her panties, her large tank top fluttering over it. Despite the size of the gun and where it was located, someone would be have to be looking pretty hard to pinpoint it out. It would serve until she got back to her apartment.

Slipping from the door, she tiptoed across the hall back to her apartment. Despite the noise, it didn’t seem as if anyone noticed at all. That was a god send.

After she left, Wayne contemplated the situation. It was getting close to dawn, and there was no point continuing the search now - rooftop travel was somewhat more obvious in the daytime. The thought of having to go another night without finding Remus made him tense, but at this juncture there wasn't much of a choice. The human policewoman had surprised him with her offer, but it was clear that she wanted to keep an eye on him, a desire that could be hindrance as much as help. Nevertheless, Wayne had a job to do, and after months of chasing, perhaps he needed a bit of help.

Turning to Wade, he bared his teeth and let out a snarl.

"Now where were we?"

-----

As they used to say in those old movies, Wade had sung like a canary. Remus had found him just an hour before Wayne had shown up, asking where he could get hold of Guardian, a new strain of cocaine that was cut with an unknown chemical. Not only would it give humans a more powerful rush, it had an unusual effect on Lycans - enhanced cognitive thinking, extra strength, and added speed. Wade had tried it once and had been able to lift cars like they were toys. The downside was that it would also enhance the Lycan bloodlust; hence the reason Wade had avoided it since. He had come very close to killing a human while high.

Wayne had frowned at that thought. Wade had been living in the city for a long time, and while he wasn't the greatest physical specimen, he was an expert at controlling his transformations and the Lycan thirst for violence. If Guardian could send him into a rage, then the effects on someone like Remus.....the thought sent a shiver down his spine.

------

A few hours later the city was in full swing. Wayne could hear the sounds of commuters plodding their way to work through the maelstrom of a morning rush hour. He had ended up sleeping on Wade's sofa, partly to keep an eye on him, and secondly because he wanted to earn Ada's trust. After sleeping on it, Wayne had decided to cooperate fully with whatever she wanted. They would have to keep a lid on it though - if the public found out that a dangerous Lycan fugitive was running unsupervised through their city, there would be panic, and a huge political fallout. There were responsibilities to consider.

After cleaning himself up, Wayne made his way across the hall and knocked at Ada's door. Presenting himself in last night's clothes wasn't the way he wanted to start things, but it would have to do.

The knocking sounded like it was a million miles away.

Once Ada had gotten into bed, she fell into a deep sleep. She barely had time to register how comfortable the bed was before oblivion overtook her senses. Now, the distant knocking at the door peeled back the layers of sleep in a moment. Her eyes snapping open, she lay there for a moment, her pulse racing. It felt like she had only drifted off a moment...But with being a cop, she had to be able to react to anything on a moment’s notice.

At the second knock, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, untangling herself from the sheets and headed to the door. Nearly tripping on her loose socks, she hopped, stumbled, and fell lightly against the door.

“Oi....” she muttered to herself, before peering through the peephole. Oh, yes - Mr. Long. Opening the door, she stepped back to allow him in. Yawning, she spoke. “Glad to see you took me up on my offer. Poke around in the fridge if you’re hungry. I need a few more hours of rest.”

Ada’s apartment was on the smaller side (she liked to call it “cozy”), and while under any other sort of decor, the place would look downright cramped, it wasn’t. Like the Music Cabinet, it was warmly lit by lamps and light fixtures that she had covered with varying colors of paper. The living room was divided from the kitchen by a long bar, sparsely populated with two dark brown bar stools. If he were to walk straight through the living room, he’d walk straight into her bedroom. The space was cordoned off by a densely beaded curtain, the beads varying shades of blue and green. Not quite the apartment of an illustrious city cop, but it was comforting enough. Nearly every table top, window sill, or bookshelf was clustered with 4-5 potted plants - a series of planters took up residence in the kitchen and scented the air with rosemary and basil.

She gestured to a dark maroon couch in the living room that had seen better days. “You can crash here if you want. I’ve got to get a few more hours of sleep under my belt and then we can talk. I’m due in for shift in like....” she glanced over to the clock on the microwave in the living room. “Oh, what day is it?” Pushing past him, she stopped in front of the closed door. Tacked to the back of it was a threadbare calendar featuring, what else - puppies. Her finger trailing across the days, she stopped at the last one with a big red X in the middle of the date. While she was fairly sharp on limited amounts of sleep, little things like this really helped to keep her on top of her game. “Okay....that’s what I thought. My next shift is literally like a day from now. So, that’s good and it’s bad. Good as in it gives me time to set this up and set up a plan, bad because we can’t go in right away. Of course, that bars if I get any more calls about this.”

Come to think about it - she hadn’t heard anything since she last called in. Normally detectives worked a murder till it’s close, but she had last phoned in stating that the lead she had was a dead one. The sad truth of it was that in a city like this, there was no shortage of people killed or plots. She would continue to doctor this particular case, but she was running so ragged on sleep as it was that she had been sent home for some rest. Not many could have pulled a 48 some odd hour shift without a single nap. She remembered reading somewhere that the human capacity for going without sleep before insanity was a surprisingly low number - one that she felt she was always hovering in front of.

This, of course, was duly noted by her chief as well.

“Seriously, thank you, Mr. Long, for trusting me. I’ll be able to string a sentence together better once I get more sleep.” After all, it had only been a handful of hours.

As she slipped back into the bedroom, she registered, dully, that it would have been nice to have someone to share the bed with. Huh. She must be really tired to have considered that out of the blue.

Not quite the reception he was expecting. As Ada retired to her room to get more sleep, Wayne sized up the apartment. Like her choice in coffee houses, her apartment had some character. Unlike Wade's sparsely populated bachelor pad, this was a place where the occupant had given some thought into customising and making it into a real home. It had a real character to it, and was definitely a reflection of the owner. Who was now sleeping in a bedroom which didn't even have a door. Wayne idly wondered if anyone was sharing it with her on a regular basis. There wasn't a hint of a male touch anywhere in the apartment, so he reasoned that there wasn't anyone special in Ada's life. Not that he was concerned - his mind always worked like an Enforcer no matter what the situation. Although he couldn't understand why there were so many plants decorating the rooms; the maelstrom of smells would take a while for him to get used to.

Settling into the couch, Wayne decided to take the prompt and rest for a while longer. Months of being on the road had taught him to sleep whenever he could.

-----

The sun was glaring through the window when he woke for the second time that day. He took a moment to find his senses - smell and hearing told him that Ada was still asleep. Wayne stretched out his body and scratched behind his ears, a habit he still had from childhood.

Sleep hadn't been peaceful. In his dream he could still see Remus, soaked in blood on the battlefield, charging towards Wayne with bloodlust coursing through his veins. They clashed powerfully and violently, tearing fur and flesh from each others bodies, fighting till both of them were near death. The memory had haunted him ever since Remus had escaped.

He padded into the small kitchen and splashed some water on his face. Looking around, he spotted a pack of coffee lurking amongst yet more potted plants. Wayne had been considering how to wake up Ada without invading her privacy, and this seemed like a good idea. He lived off the stuff back on the reservation, and the smell would be a subtle way to raise the female cop from her slumber.

----

With a pot on the table and the cup in his hand, Wayne was rewarded a few minutes later. Ada exited the bedroom with a yawn and went straight for the coffee, adding an almost scary amount of sugar. After a couple of minutes she registered his presence.

"Good afternoon." That got an incredulous look before she realised what the time was. "I want to thank you for offering to help."
"I know you have a lot of questions," Wayne raised his hands before she could respond, "So as a sign of good faith, I'll start explaining myself."

"As I said yesterday, I'm an Enforcer on the Lycan reservation. I know that might sound crazy to you, but Lycans are not too dissimilar to humans. We do have a form of goverment, although its rather archaic, and we try to maintain law and order. I'm the Commander - the equivalent to a Police Commissioner if you like."

He walked to the window to take in a breath of fresh air.

"The reason we were exiled is because we have thirst for violence everytime we change to our werewolf form. Decades on the reservation has taught us that there are ways to control it - mostly through lots of training, and a few other means. However not every Lycan is the same - some need forms of drugs to suppress these urges, others can do it through meditation, and there are a few other means. At the moment we are still learning, with the ultimate goal of being able to stop killing altogether."

"How did I know your victim was killed by a Lycan? A few ways. Firstly there's the cause of death. Multiple lacerations like that can only be caused by a werewolf."

Letting those words sink in, Wayne continued.

"Lycans also have characteristics of the wolf. Generally we have heightened sensitivity, and are stronger and quicker than humans. I am an Enforcer, which means I have special training to improve my senses even further - I could smell Remus at the crime scene, and I followed that scent all the way to Wade's apartment yesterday."

Refilling his cup, Wayne took a seat at the table.

"In the Reservation right now there are two factions. One is the current ruling government who is trying to work towards a form of reintegration into human society. They are the ones who are actively pursuing research into controlling werewolf transformations, and negotiating with your govermnent. The second faction is the extremists, and are led by Remus. They are the ones who believe that werewolves are the next form of evolution, and should be on top of the food chain."

You would think that after drinking so much coffee to keep in the land of the living that the very smell of it would make Ada sick.

Instead, like Wayne intended, it served to wake her. Slowly, her eyes fluttered open. For a moment, she lay there, trying to piece together what all had happened within the last few hours. When she had answered the door for Wayne before, she was in a mode close to sleep walking. Now that she was much more lucid, well.

“....Nice to see you didn’t destroy my apartment,” she said with a wry grin as she dumped sugar into her coffee. She liked it black and sweet as hell; it was a small wonder that her teeth were in such a good condition. She had a sweet tooth as big as the week was long. She set it down on the counter as he began to talk. Pacing over to the fridge, she skimmed the shelves. Huh. Running low. Figures. Not like she really had the time here recently to do anything close to shopping. Man. Backing out of the fridge, she grabbed a few cook books that were on the counter and flopped down at the table across from him.

“I don’t honestly know enough about Lycans to know what sounds crazy and what doesn’t. They used to say that black people had sex with apes, so who knows what sort of insane crap they’ve been spreading about your people.” She stood up again, walking back to the kitchen to retrieve her cup of coffee. Sitting back down at the table, she opened one of the cook books and began to thumb through it. Ooo. That pasta looked good.

The table wasn’t quite threadbare, but nor was it piled on with a bunch of crap. There were brown rings from numerous cups of coffee, and scraps of paper from god knows what. Next to her usual spot was a beat up pad of paper and a chewed on pen. As he continued to talk, she jotted down the ingredients for various dishes. The only way that anyone in her line of work could get anything done was to be a master multi-tasker.

“Why do you think Lycans have an urge for violence?” she broke in suddenly, looking up at him. “I thought wolves were...relatively peaceful with one another.” She ran her finger around the rim of her coffee cup, continuing to listen to him. “Are these two factions found in each Reservation, or just the one closest to the city? Why don’t you work more openly with our police force? I might just be over-simplifying things, but it seems like public opinion would be entirely different if we had a unified force.” She took a slow sip of her coffee. “I’m not saying that these changes will happen over night...nothing ever really does. But it would be a step forward.”

For a while he thought she wasn't interested. Seeing her reading cookbooks and writing down ingredients while Wayne was talking was somewhat distracting. It was only when she interjected with questions that he realised she was using the task to help focus her train of thought.

"I don't know why we're so violent," he replied, shaking his head. "The scientists think its something to do with feral urges, the wolf brain taking control of the human brain. But I couldn't tell you anymore."

"The reason why Lycans were exiled was because we couldn't control ourselves and humans were dying. While the general human population pretty much live in ignorance, your government hasn't forgotten." The smell of coffee curled around his nostrils, and he took another pleasing sip. "My leaders represent a group of Reservations. But not all of them." Wayne sifted through the questions in his head, looking for the right words.

"There are some Reservations who support Remus, but they are smaller and not as powerful as mine. As with all races, some want peace, and some want to conquer. None of them will ally with us, but they won't challenge us openly either. It would be a losing battle."

Pausing to let the words sink in, he picked up the cookbook. Humans had life so easy. The Reservation barely had enough resources to feed everyone, let alone cook gourmet meals. "This division is the reason we haven't been able to negotiate a settlement with the human government. There are some politicians that are open to change, but others who fear our power. The dissidents give them good reason to oppose us. It's a sensitive topic, and for that reason, your government has kept the talks secret."

"Think about the situation as it stands. The average human has no knowledge of Lycans - the general assumption is that we're wild and dangerous. The Lycan government is trying to negotiate a truce with the humans. If a dangerous Lycan is found running loose in the city killing with abandon, it will look like the Lycan government cannot control their own citizens. Secondly, it will reinforce the human perception that we are a threat who must be contained. The political fallout would be catastrophic, albeit more for Lycans than humans."

Putting the book down, he looked Ada directly in the eyes. "As for cooperation - your police force has no idea how to handle Lycans. We are stronger, faster, and sharper than you. Tracking, yes, since you have far more advanced forensics and resources. When it comes down to it though, there is no way a human policeman, no matter how well trained they are, could take down a Lycan."

"I need you. In this city....", he swept his arm out for emphasis."....I can't find Remus alone. Will you help me?"

“Well, it’s no small secret that neither of our governments can boast control of the entire populace. If that was the case, we’d both be out of a job.” She propped her feet up on the table, taking another sip of coffee. Pointing and flexing her toes, she sighed. What in the hell was she getting herself into?

“I’ll help you.” Her words carried an air of finality, as if she had finally come to terms with a choice that she was wrestling with for a while. “I don’t like the idea of a killer, human or Lycan, running loose in my city. I don’t know what all I’ve got to offer you, but if we’re going to be working together, I need to not only see what you can do, but I need to know that you’re going to be honest with me and not try to kill me or something.”

Truly, she could listen to him describe life among the Lycans for the majority of the night. She had a ton of questions - and more than anything, wanted to get onto a reservation herself now. It wasn’t the time for that. She had to keep focused on what was going on right in front of her, and that meant no luxury for just losing herself in a history lesson.

“I don’t know where and how you want to start, Wayne. To be honest, you were my only lead on this case. Granted, you’ve opened up a few more doors, but now, I find myself hopelessly outclassed. You’re right,” and she looked up into his eyes, “I know I can’t bring down a Lycan. At least, not a transformed one. I thought I might have been able to take Wade down, but....You’re going to train me. Show me what I can do to at least make it seem like we’re playing on an even field, since I doubt silver bullets are going to work.”

From the way he talked about Remus, she could just feel that there was something deeper there that he wasn’t going to volunteer. Fine. If he had some sort of past with this guy, it would make him work all the more towards it. Setting down her coffee cup, she rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. Sometimes she had to stop herself from staring at him. It wasn’t so much that he was handsome (not like that hurt any), but because he was single-handedly responsible for flipping her world upside down.

And she wanted to see him....how he really was.

“I can ask Wade to see what Remus may have looked like here, as a human, but if he’s been here before, he’s probably excellent at covering his tracks...and more than likely, won’t be acting alone. Just because I don’t really know more than the news blurbs about Lycans doesn’t mean that there isn’t a group here in town that has their ear to the ground.”

Standing up from the table, she stretched, her oversized shirt sliding up over her stomach. Dropping her arms to her sides, she stood on the tips of her toes, and gave a final yawn. “I’m going to talk to Wade after a shower. I’d advise you to stay here - you probably scared the ever loving hell out of him.”

__________

Standing under the flow of hot water, Ada sighed and rested her forehead against the tile in the shower stall. Wade. Her own stupid neighbor was a Lycan. As much as she wanted to be shocked or horrified, she wasn’t. Wade had always been nothing but nice, maybe even sweet, to her. She didn’t see any reason why that would change. Wade didn’t seem the type in particular to be malicious - just elbowed under. It made her think about the lowest rung in a dog pack.

And it said something about him that he was able to live among humans for so long without incident. She wanted to know more about that as well.

Running her hands over her face, she turned away from the flow of the water to start the process of bathing.

At least she was on his side.

Wayne wasn't ecstatic on getting Wade involved in this, but it was her city, and he'd have to follow some of her rules. He didn't trust Wade, but Ada did, and he could tell that Wade was holding a torch for her. That made the runaway Lycan an ally. Snorting, he recalled the days when he was chasing Wade through small towns, often having to sift through the mess that Wade left behind in search of clues, the trail eventually going cold. That earned him a nice ear bashing from the chief when he returned empty handed.

In truth, Wayne didn't need to know what Remus looked like to track him. The scent alone would be enough - that was one thing Remus couldn't disguise. However, the human would need physical clues to identify the rogue Lycan. He would have to go along with her plan, and admittedly, it was good thinking on her part. The scent would be gone after the machinations of the night before, and he would need help finding it again. As he suspected, she must have been one of the more successful police officers in the city.

Hearing the shower come on, Wayne surmised that she was probably the sexiest too. Enforcers weren't built like her back home.

With Ada naked in close proximity, his mind wandered. It was still late morning, so he could go for a few hours without release. Finding a way to extract himself from her supervision would be challenging, and he wasn't keen on explaining the reasons why.

The other thought that came to mind was her safety. Wayne had never partnered with a human before; in truth, he'd only met a few other humans before, and all of them had been inferior specimens. From what he'd been taught, he knew humans were physically much weaker than Lycans. On the flipside, humans were able to control their thoughts and emotions far better than their werewolf cousins. It was one thing Wayne was envious of - the training he had to go through to maintain his current state was brutal, and the discipline required was even more punishing. Without release his feral mind would run wild.

Reluctantly, he made the decision. Ada would be a useful asset - it would be no use if she got badly hurt, or even died, while working with him. Wayne would have to share some of the Lycan's secrets, even if he was expressly forbidden.

Tracing the long coils of white foam down her dark side, she sighed. This time, the sound was one of pleasure. As long as she had access to hot water, there was no problem that she would be able to overcome. Besides, it was one of the few times that she really got to indulge.

It’s not that having an attractive man being that close to her in god knows how long made her lose her senses. It wasn’t that at all. Ada knew she was too professional for something like that. No, it was just part of her normal ritual....Since no one else was around to really savor what she had, she did. Her hands slide down the pane of her stomach, to the tautness of her sides, to gently cup her breasts in her hands. There was an overwhelming fear that sat in her stomach, cold and hungry.

She wasn’t sure this was something that she would come back from.

If she had appeared to take all of what happened in stride, well, it was because of her diligence as a cop. She couldn’t just....react. She had to weigh all the options and think of what would be best for her city. That’s what made all the difference at the end of the day. Maybe it would explain why she lived alone. Maybe it was outdated, but she felt like her duty to her town took over everything else.

Her fingers drifting to the dark tangle of her pubic hair, the prior thoughts fled. Parting the dense curls, she lovingly felt the plump lips of her labia. At the end of the day, this was her body - the only thing that she could count to be real.
________

“So here’s my idea,” she said, walking from the shower. She had a towel wrapped about her and went straight to the fridge. Grabbing a dark green bottle, she flopped down on the couch.

Ah, that would explain why it looked a little...droopy.

“Wade can give me a rough idea of what this guy looks like. If luck is with me, he might be able to change hair, but there’s got to be something else about him that remains the same. I’ll comb the books, see what his M.O is and what parts of town he comes in and out of.” She made it sound easy, but it would probably be days in the hole for her. “See what sort of associates he has. I can give this information to you, and while I can track down some of the more human of his associates, I can leave the rougher stuff to you. When’s the best time that you operate, and what do I need to know about Lycans? Is any of that full moon stuff true? Silver bullets? Tell-tale signs that you’re about to transform? Can you even control any of that?”

She paused for a moment to take a long swig from her bottle. A hot shower and San Pellegrino; life would work.

Wayne was trying to focus. Ada was sitting on the couch covered in a towel that left little to the imagination. He was still lounging at the coffee table, and he tried to maintain a casual pose despite her provocative choice of attire. For all he know, she could be testing him.

"What I'm about to tell you is really sensitive," he started. "My elders forbid humans from knowing most of this information. Partly for political reasons, and partly for our own protection." He hesitated for a moment, but the decision had been made.

"That full moon stuff is mythical rubbish. Lycans must transform, but we can do it on our terms. When we are born, we must change form once every three days, although with training this can be controlled far better. For example as I am a trained Enforcer I only need to transform once every seven days, and I can control my werewolf form with my human brain. Untrained Lycans will run riot when transformed. Extremists like Remus will often ignore their training as well, since they believe in acting as we were born to."

Wayne kept his eyes trained on a spot about a foot above Ada's head. If he looked at her semi naked form he would be severely distracted.

"As I said before, a normal human cannot match up to a Lycan in strength, speed and agility. Even in my human form, I could tear your throat in seconds." Wayne noticed her form tensing slightly. "Of course I wouldn't do that. But I said that for a reason. If Remus sees you and knows you're onto him, he won't hesitate to kill you. Therefore if you meet him, you have to keep him at least 10 feet away from you, and your gun has to be fully loaded. A whole round will slow him down enough for you to escape, but it won't kill him."

He paused for a moment, letting his words take effect. Ada didn't seem to be concerned or scared, just....interested.

"The one thing that is true from the myths is the weakness to silver. If it gets in our bloodstream, it causes a severe allergic reaction." Reaching into his jacket, he drew out a small leather pouch. "In here are some silver bullets that should fit your standard issue firearms. And to pre empt you, yes I do have a gun, but I only use it when I have no other choice. There are very few Lycans in this world who can overpower me."

Leaving the pouch on the table, he continued, "I only have a few of these bullets, so I suggest you keep these in a spare gun. Your normal ammo will be enough for containment. Only use these when you have no other choice."

"Wade should be able to tell you what Remus looks like. I can track him by scent, so I don't need to know his appearance. There is a way you can narrow down your search for him."

Now he was seriously conflicted, but he had to carry on.

"All Lycans have a special way of controlling their transformations. Wade relies heavily on marijuana to manage his. Remus has two ways - the first is by killing, hence the dead body you found. The other way is cocaine, which explains why he was visiting Wade last night. Knowing Remus, he won't like to draw any more attention to himself, so he will definitely be looking for some cocaine right now. If you find out which suppliers Wade recommended, we can use that to pinpoint where Remus could surface."

There was something about the semi-sweet, bitter bite of the sparkling water that helped her focus her thoughts. As Wanye spoke, she listened, filtering in what she needed to know and what she would need to work with to give her the advantage. She knew that Wayne was probably right about Lycans being stronger and faster - but it was something that she knew that she would more than likely have to experience it to be able to know she could trust herself to react quickly. The police force trained to deal with tweakers and violents; but not with Lycans.


“What kind of allergic reaction? If I were to cut one with a silver knife, would that work? Are your powers transmitted by bite? How does that actually work?”

Well, that was interesting. She noticed he wasn’t really looking at her, but somewhere above her. Hm. Something about what she was doing must be making him uncomfortable. The only thing that had changed here was that she had showered....And he didn’t seem to be the type that was scared of water.

As much as Ada didn’t consider herself a tease when it came to her personal life, as a cop, it was one of those things that she could use to her advantage. And she hated it. She hated seeing how different women could be treated, but on the same hand, sometimes it was the only way to break a case. She could sense that it was difficult for Wayne to be opening up to her like this, but he wasn’t telling her everything.

And she was prepared for it.

“What is the transformation process like? Are there any indications that you’re about to transform that I need to be aware of?”

She leaned forward, tonguing the smooth glass rim of the bottle in her mouth. With a shift of her shoulders, the towel fell a bit lower, exposing the smooth flesh of her breasts. Maybe just a little lower, and the dark circle of her nipple could be exposed...

Drugs and sex made the world go round. What he said about marijuana and cocaine made sense to her - well, almost. Alcohol might help a Lycan, but it seemed too unstable of a fix. Anything that seemed to boost endorphins....so alcohol, maybe not so much. It was a downer. Hm. Well, it wasn’t like she could just go making assumptions just then and there. He had said Lycans had different methods.

“Is it always drugs, then....” Her voice hummed against the mouth of the bottle before she pulled it away from her lips and set it beside her foot. Crossing her legs leisurely, the towel slipped further up her hips. Eventually, it’d probably drop and hike up far enough to meet in the middle, exposing everything but her middriff.

What concerned her was Wayne’s continual insistence that he was one of the strongest Lycans. As compared to what? In the world? On his reservation? In the states? It left too much open. Of course, he could be lying to her this entire time and just using her to eliminate someone he couldn’t. There was always that. It would certainly explain why he told her secrets and would willingly give her silver bullets. If she died on this, it also had the potential to start a race war - one that humans may not have been promised an immediate victory.

There was a lot on the line here - and thankfully, her time on the force gave her a poker face like none other. Though she was troubled, none of it showed on her face. Her heart rate didn’t falter. And on a whim, she had tried something when she got out of the shower. In the shower, she’d rubbed her fingers along her labia, just enough so to get her on the verge of physically aroused. That, combined with some pheromone spray she’d picked up from a sex shop ages ago - she wondered if it helped alter her body chemistry enough for him to pick up on it. If that, combined with the minor show she was putting on worked, then she had an idea. Or several.

“So, what do we do now?”