Chapter 1
-A Working Night-
Juliet really liked stakeouts.
Once she had complained like any other cop about cold feet and stiffened backs, but since a terrifying cursed beast nearly tore off her shoulder none of that was trouble anymore. It was one of the few advantages of being a monster: you are much more able to indulge in delicacies and details humans missed, sure your joints would be ready to leap any moment, sleep wound shove back at the least hint of danger. Stakeouts were now magnificent moments to think and ease knots. And to harass her partner, of course.
-Lazy night, mh?-
-I don't think so, O'Hara. We've been convened by Victoria for tomorrow night. We're dealing with a probable preternatural serial killer and we have those two twerps on the case.-
-I was being sarcastic, Carlton.-
-Oh.-
Juliet sighed, casting him a look from the passenger seat. Carlton was cleaning up his gun, filling air with the smell of gun-oil and tiny clock-like rattles. He had put on his black leather gloves, but some spots would require him to take them off and they'd burn his fingers. The gun was a modified Glock, carved in webs and twisted wings, clad in pure silver. In the dark it gleamed like a jewel, and even at that distance Juliet repressed a shiver. She didn't like it. She didn't like that he had to hurt himself every time and his eyes while he did it, because they felt too much like expiation.
-You're worried about the meeting?-
-Properly so.- He muttered. –I haven't been summoned by Victoria in more than four months. Even back then, in quiet times, stepping in the Court wasn't advisable. Bringing there the Psych idiots and you is nearly suicide.-
-I can manage myself quite well.-
-That's not what I'm worried about, O'Hara.-
The long hands on the gun had stopped for a second. She pretended not to see.
-Don't fret so much now. We would be there as PD officers, and as Supernaturals too. We'd be a very showy group to eliminate, and Victoria is too smart not to know it. The consequences would be troublesome.-
-Or entertaining. She doesn't think like us.- He flinched. –Them. Like them.-
Jules turned to him. There was such sorrow in his words, so much for one just man. It seemed so unfair. It was there Jules noted how pale he looked, how frenzied his eyes were, like an over-exposed photo. Oh, damn, damn idiot. She tightened her lips.
-Carlton. When did you eat last time?-
-I had a donut this evening.-
-I didn't mean that and you know it.-
He gnarled softly. -That is not eating.-
-It is for you. And put back those teeth, you're not impressing anyone.-
They scowled at each other a moment longer, and then Lassiter slumped on the seat with a snap of fangs. It was a quarrel as long as their friendship. He would say nothing for weeks, she would advise gently, he played dumb, they argued and the day after he came in office with cheeks vaguely pink and not even looking at her. Carlton was a fairly old vampire, so he could draw long stretches of time without feeding; but there was a difference between that and never. She had seen his face watching blood, his skin graying and dying when he had almost drained himself. She understood it. She was terrified by it.
-Besides, it's not like I'm suggesting you to savagely gorge on virgins' neck. There are perfectly acceptable possibilities. Animals, donors.-
-I'm perfectly fine.-
-Carlton, come on. You can't starve yourself like this. There's no need. And you get cranky as Hell when you're hungry.-
-I can't starve, O'Hara, 'cause I'm dead.- His voice got sharp, and Juliet's heart twitched. He really believed it. Oh, gosh. She was suddenly leaning across the seats, stopping his hands.
-No Carlton, no. You're not dead.- She squeezed his fingers. –You speak to me, you get pissed. You read Jane Austen and nearly sob. You laugh. I don't know what you are, but this is not being dead.-
He watched her with a frown. He wasn't breathing, the fingers were cold. He was trying his hardest to feel less human possible. She didn't let go.
-Oh, Hell. Whatever. Think what you want. Pass me the chips.-
Juliet smiled. She started to feel for the half-filled Let's tucked somewhere in the glove box, when she heard the man walking. The feeling hit on her senses like a saturated after-image, smashing any other thought. Man. Breathing. Ten feet from them. Hunt. Run. She swallowed hard and reached for her holster.
-The guy's coming.-
The Glock clacked behind her. –I know.-
The steps splashed in the last-rain pools, fast, and they got nearer. They got out of the car in sync, swift but not too swift, guns drawn and aiming. Half a face flashed in the Ford's headlights, turning sharply to them. Jules studied him. The guy was no more than seventeen, lanky, red All Stars, a baseball cap tucked low on the face. He cursed, but didn't reach out for any pockets. Probably no hidden guns. Carlton took a step forward.
-SBPPD, don't move. I inform you you're under arrest for complicity in Selkie skins traffic.-
-Fuck you.- The boy said.
-This is not getting you anywhere, boyo. Any attempt at resistance would allow us to neutralize you. I strongly suggest to collaborate.-
The boy spat and staggered back, just a bit. Was he scared? Carlton reached out of another step. The boy bent on his legs.
-C'mon, kid. Follow us, and no one would get hurt.-
-Fuck you.- He said again, and a double row of snake-teeth snapped open under the cap.
Shit.
The attack was so sudden Juliet didn't see it. She glimpsed just a blur of yellow eyes and red tongue and hissing fangs, hot scales brushing her cheek. She crouched, waiting for the blow, but the lizard-boy just flew past her, stomping from the brick wall in the air.
-Dammit!-
-O'Hara. You right?-
She got up, gulping. The boy was racing high to the nearest building.
-Damn. A shapeshifter. We lost him.-
-Not for long.-
The flow of power was short and clean. It shook the hallway, hot enough to crawl along her skin, ringing loud like a gunshot, and then her partner dashed in chase.
Watching a vampire at his full power is like stripping a skeleton of any human layer. Plump lips and long eyelashes fell away; gestures and moods faded too. They change in pure force, pure hunger, the essential lines of a living moving body. Her best friend was still in his suit and shoes and gloves, but he did not need any of it. His skin got bleached. Carlton's eyes burnt. Lips spilled white fangs as he ran up the building. He did not crawl and he did not climb, pale claws grasping cracks and bricks and shadows, flowing up, a thing of black and blue fire and nothing more. It took Juliet five seconds to breathe again and run after them.
She reached the building and was easy, so easy grabbing the first sill, rushing up. Run. Hunt. She let her body go and her body knew, up, up, third floor cornice roof. She landed in a crouch. The concrete shone with moon. The lizard-boy was some twenty feet from her, hissing, swishing away on things that were neither paws nor hands. Carlton watched him with a strange mix of his eyes and other eyes and just leapt. The boy saw him, gave a shriek. Carlton landed on him with a growl. There was no real fight: Carlton just seized the boy's claw, smashing it to the ground, teeth bared. The boy whimpered, slashing around. Carlton hissed. The hot blue power flowed again, just around the edges, and he quieted down.
Juliet let out a breath. She reached for the handcuffs, and there was when the second lizard-man arrived. She saw him dashing out of the chimney shadows, seizing Carlton and throwing him to the other end of the roof. A slick of blood arched behind him.
It was her body to choose. It felt all so very right, so very simple. Something inside Jules snapped. Enemies. Hurt Carlton. Stop it. Blood roared in her head. Kill it.
She was running towards the lizard-man before knowing it. Blood pumped harder. She felt bones snapping, in arms and legs and face. Fangs crashed her mouth. Her skin ripped. It hurt like Hell. She growled, howled. Juliet slipped away.
Her teeth sank in the lizard's throat.
The lizard cried, thrashing around, but it didn't bother her. He was meat. He was prey. She felt blood pooling in her mouth and slurped it down. Something hit her in the shoulder, but her skin was strong, her fur was thick. She roared in anger. Hurt. Pay. She slashed out, and her claws dig deep, sank in the scales. The lizard fell back. He smelled of sweat and fear and food. Eat. She howled, and tucked down her muzzle and munched, meat and skin and bone, crunching under her teeth. It shrieked, she cared not. She was stronger, stronger. Eat.
-O'Hara.-
The smell came first. Bad meat, wrong meat. She looked up.
-Enough O'Hara. Let him go.-
She turned. The bad smell came from a thing standing in front of her. The thing was strong and cold and it smelled like bones. Bad cold meat.
She crouched on the good meat, growling softly.
-C'mon O'Hara. You don't want it.-
The thing got nearer. She growled harder. The thing hummed with power but it did not attack. It made sounds. That was wrong. She shook her head. O'Hara. Carlton. Bad meat. Cold. Carlton. He crouched in front of her and she snapped her fangs, ready to leap, ready to charge.
-O'Hara, O'Hara. Juliet.-
Juliet. Juliet whined. She could feel his heartbeat, blood and meat singing under the skin. It was not meat to eat. It was meat to kill. Smash it, rip it. Juliet could do it. She must do it. She whimpered. Her bones ached to shoot. Carlton.
The thing offered his neck. Lifted a hand. He called her just once more.
-Juliet.-
That was it. Juliet let out a howl, and fell back. Her body burned again. Changed. Bones snapped, the jaw clacked back in place. Skin broke back over fur. She cried, because it hurt, it hurt so much and suddenly there were no claws no teeth no meat, and she was not strong. She was Juliet. She was a woman. She was a woman sitting on a bleeding half-dead man, gagging on a chunk of his shoulder. She crawled away and puked her guts out on the concrete, crying, high short sobs ripping across her chest. Black spots filled her eyes. The shoulder ached. Everything ached. I'm lost, God, I'm one of the lost.
-I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.-
-O'Hara.-
-I'm so sorry.-
-I know O'Hara.-
-God, God I'm so sorry.-
Someone had pulled back her hair while puking.
-I really know, O'Hara.-