I drove to the crime scene in my three year four wheel drive Nissan Xterra to View Ridge, a neighborhood in North Seattle, and followed Stan's directions that led me close to the Sand Point Country Club. The actual scene was easy to find since there were a number of police cars, both marked and unmarked, and an ambulance and many uniformed and plains clothes cops walking around as well as the civilians who wanted to know what was going on and some even hoping to catch a glimpse of a dead body. Me…I hated to catch a glimpse of the dead body. I have seen too many of them and never could understand why anyone would want to look at them. I stopped my Xterra, got out, and decided not to put on my jacket to hide my shoulder holster and Browning 9mm Practical. First I was licensed to carry it, second I was on police business even if I was not a cop, and third I would be putting on some cover alls anyway to protect my clothes from the blood…there was always blood. I knew it was going to be bad. It always was when a supernatural creature did the killing and even if the police did not know it was for sure or not yet they had to suspect it to call in the Ghost Squad and then for Stan to call me…yeah it was going to be bad and bloody.

I open the back of my SUV and pull on a clean set of those disposable white coveralls, slip over a pair of those thin plastic bootys over my black Converse High Tops…I am a huge fan of canvas sneakers…and attached my Ghost Squad ID badge to the front of the coveralls. It really is just and ID in plastic that helps identify me was a civilian consultant and not law enforcement, but it does help me get access to the crime scene when I have to get past a uniform cop who does not know me. I smile at the number of police that always show up at a murder scene when the victim is an upstanding citizen. The gang killings and the bad neighborhoods never rate this many cops. I always thought the best time to commit a crime in the city was when Joe Accountant is murdered since most of the cops will be at the crime scene. But hey who am I to tell the professionals how to do their job. They don't give me advice on killing a vampire so I don't give them advice on how to run a crime scene. My only job here is to examine the body, give Stan some idea of what I think it may be or has happened, answer his questions, and leave. It is up to him to take my opinion or listen to me. He normally does at least listen. He is a good cop…one of the best I have ever met and a great detective. I often wondered who he pissed off to get put on the Ghost Squad. The unit was not the most sought after task force for the department. Most of the guys were good cops but did something to make a superior angry and got transferred.

"Sorry, m'am, but you can't cross the line." A male voice brought me out of my thoughts as I lifted the police tape. I flash him my ID and the cop motions with his hands to go on through. I look around and see a familiar face and smile.

"Hello, Detective Parsons."

"Hello, Ms. Puckett, the lieutenants down the hill to the right. Need a uniform to escort you?" Detective Jeff Parsons is one of the nicest guys I have ever met. He was tall, well everyone is tall to me, who stood just at six foot, has dark black skin and I thought he was very nice looking and his politeness only added to his looks in my opinion. He was always nice and always polite and always such a gentleman and I used to wonder how he survived being a cop this long. That was until I had seen him in action and we stood toe to toe against a couple of vampires a couple of years ago and he showed me then he was not always nice and polite.

"No…I'm good detective, I don't think I could miss him." I hear him chuckle and walked down the hill a little and see a small crowd of four men standing and talking. One was Stan and I was right; I couldn't miss him. He stood six foot six and his build always reminded me of a professional wrestler, and not the sloppy fat ones, and his graying hair was cut short almost a buzz cut. As I walked closer he saw me and held his hand up for me not to come closer. I wondered what that was about but I stopped. Stan's gray suit looked like he just got it out of the cleaners it was so neat and pressed and the same for his white dress shirt; as always his tie matched his suit and the knot of it was pushed up to his throat. He looked like he just stepped out of an important board meeting and not from a murder scene. But I knew better, he always looked neat and orderly and I knew him. He saw the body and examined it; he was always the first before he allowed anyone else near it. Like I said, he was a good cop and a hell of a detective.

Next to him and was another face I knew. Detective Alfred Zimmerman stood about five eleven and had a slender athletic build and his black hair looked uncombed and need trimming bad. He was the total opposite in Stan as far as appearances goes. Zimmer's suit looked like he pulled it out of the dirty clothes hamper and left it all wrinkled and his tie hung loosely around his neck. He looked up at me and grinned and then winked. I flipped him off and he tried not to laugh. Yeah he and I have a weird rapport.

I waited and looked at the other two men on almost identical dark suits, white shirts, black shoes, and knew why Stan told me to hang back. They were feds. They were easy to spot in their almost matching suits and I often thought if they got issued their suits like they did their badges and guns or was there a special store they all shopped at…Feds R us…or something. I wondered why they were here; their presence just didn't sit right to me for some reason. I shrugged and waited and soon Stan motioned me to join them

"Sam, this it Agent Harris," Stan pointed at a brown haired agent with a nice smile and I shook his hand, "And this is Agent Williams. They are with the FBI."

I shook Williams hand and but he did not give me a polite smile and his hand shake was to firm…way to firm like he was testing me. I just smiled at him and knew for some reason he did not like me. I took offense to that. I mean…yeah I can be a pain in the ass at times and my mouth seems to talk before my mind thinks a lot of the time…but hell he just met me. At least give me a chance to call him an asshole before he starts hating me. He then gave me a sharp look after I let go of his hands and giggled…yeah I giggle shoot me I am a girl you know! I was not giggling at him I swear but at the names and decided the feds must shop for their names when they shopped for their suits. I have met a few over the years and they were always named Harris, Williams, Smith, Jones, etc. Agent Williams gave me a dirty look and so did Stan. When Stan looked at me I sobered up and managed to mumble sorry.

Stan turned his eyes from me, "Agents, this is Samantha Puckett. She is our resident advisor and consultant on crimes such as these." Stan finished.

Williams looked at me carefully, "And you are also the resident vampire executioner?" He asked as if he did not believe it and I suddenly knew why he did not like me. I did not live up to his expectations. First I was a female and second I was small and petite and well…cute. Well strike one against me I guess. I was used to it by now through. I always got that reaction when I first met people and they know who I am. The Ghost Squad used to be the same way until I had stood shoulder to shoulder with most of the guys when the shit hit the fan and now they have respect for me and I them. They see me now as either a kid sister or a cute girl to flirt with. I prefer the kid sister role myself.

"Yeah, I am." I say with a smile and hope he does not piss me off. See…I kind of have a bad temper…ok not kind of I do.

"And according to our information, Samantha, you have the second highest execution rate in the country." That was true I did as far as legal executions. They don't count the illegal ones because they don't know about those. Henry way out scored me in that game but I had a few under my belt.

I just give him my cutesy girl smile, "So do I when a prize? Is that why you guys are here?"

"Just tell us what you know or think you know about this murder, Samantha." He said harshly.

"First it is not Samantha. It is either Puckett or Ms. Puckett and if you get to know me, Williams, you can call me Sam." Yeah I was getting pissed at this guy.

"Ok Ms. Puckett, tell us what you know." He emphasized the Ms. Yeah that was strike to in his book. He made it clear he thought I was just a civilian and not law enforcement and had not right being on the crime scene. I wonder if I could get strike three with this guy before the day was out. My money was on I could.

"Well, gee, Agent Williams, I really don't know yet because I have not looked at the body yet. Give me a chance and maybe I can help you understand. Or have you even looked at it yet? Does the thought of seeing a little blood make you want to fly back to Washington and get a desk job or something or is it the fact a little ole girl like me has more guts than a big strong man when it comes to dealing with the monsters!" Yeah I was pissed and swinging for strike three.

"That's enough Williams! Let her do her job." Agent Harris said. He must be the Agent in charge. Williams looked at me and started walking back up the hill.

"Come on, Sam, let's go look at the vic." Stan said and gently pulled on my arm. See he gets to call me Sam. I'm not a total bitch, but of course he is a friend and I had a lot of respect for him.

I look and see Zimmerman chuckling at me and was about to say something when Stan shook his head so I just stuck my tongue out instead. Zimmerman walked quickly to follow us and came behind me.

"Sam, you shouldn't advertise that tongue with me unless you intend to use it." He smiled.

I look over my shoulder and smirk, "You wouldn't know what to do with it anyway, Zimmer."

"Are you offering?" He asked with a grin.

"One day I am going to tell Kathy on you and then where would you be?" I reply.

Zimmerman laughed, "Hell, Sam, she knows I am a happy leech and she might let you have me if you promise to keep me for a month or so." He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

I smiled at that. I liked his wife Kathy. She was totally opposite from him. She was neat and orderly and very prim and proper…hell she was opposite from me too I guess…and very lady like. She was just a doll and I could never figure out how he landed such a sweet beauty like her.

"Ok kids, enough." Stan said with a chuckle at the rapport between me and Zimmerman as we approached the body. The body or what was left of it was lying in the grass almost under a large oak tree and covered with a black plastic sheet.

"Everyone else done their job?" I ask Stan and he nods which meant that everyone already saw the body, photos were taken, and forensics were already gathered. Now it was my turn. I sigh and pull some latex surgical gloves from the pocket of my cover alls and go take a look.

"Hey, Sam, don't get sick on this one, Ok." Zimmerman chuckles and this time I do flip him off again. God…get sick all over the body one time and you never live it down. I still get sick sometimes…hell they all do. I have seen Zimmerman and Parsons lose their lunch at times but of course never on the body like I did that time. Yeah it gets to us all…but never Stan…I never saw him get sick. Maybe he has been doing this for to long.

I kneel down next to the victim and take a deep breathe through my nose. Big mistake…huge mistake! I smell it. I smell the blood and the flesh and the death. It is so fresh it smells like raw hamburger meat and the blood smells metallic. I close my eyes and settle my stomach and was glad all I had this morning was two jelly donuts with raspberry jelly. Red raspberry jelly that looked like congealed blood. Great Sam…you have not even seen the body and already you are going to get sick!

"Sam, you ok?" I hear Stan's voice and Zimmerman's chuckle.

"Yeah…umm…do we have an estimated time of death yet?" I was stalling and he knew it. But it was important. If it was after dawn then that would rule out a vampire.

Stan reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small notebook. "Yeah…time of death was estimated at three or four am. The victim by his driver's license is twenty eight and name…"

"No…don't need the name. Thanks, Stan." I never wanted the name before I examined the body. Now it was just a body but with a name it was a person. A man with a family, a mother who loved him, maybe a wife and kids that would never see daddy again. No…no names until after I am done.

I remove the plastic sheet and focus on what I am looking for and not the blood…and there was a lot of it. I look down at my knees and see I am even knelling in some. I glance at the tree and see splatters of blood on the trunk and around the tree. I close my eyes and open them slowly and begin to examine the body. The first thing I see is that is face and head seemed untouched and then I lower my eyes and see his chest and lower torso and try not to gag. His chest and abdomen was ripped open and his organs and intestines spilled around the body. I close my eyes for a moment and then start to examine the wounds with my hands and look at them closely. They were ripped but not with a knife but with claws. I could see the jagged areas around the skin; it was actually four claw marks of almost equal length which told me that the animal that did this…or wereanimal…only struck once. If it had struck more than once there would have been more claw wounds. I sigh and pull out my pocket tape measure and measure the distance of the wounds. They were too large to me a natural large cat, and yes I was sure it was a cat, in the area. They were large enough to be a tiger's paws but of course tigers are not natural to the area and hell…we don't even have one in our zoo. I reach under the head of the body and pull it up to see if he may have been attacked from behind and nope. All clean. The cat that attacked him did him face to face and it was not for food. There were not teeth marks and the body was not eaten. Another reason I did not suspect a natural predator. I was placing the head down gently and something caught my eyes on the neck.

I look down closer and curse. Vampire bites! The man was attacked…no murdered…by a vampire and by a werecat. Not good…not good at all. I then start to look closer at the body, picking up arms and legs and looking close and on the inside of his arm at the joint was another pair of vampire bites. Double fuck! I then blush as I lift up the body's jogging shorts and examine his inner thighs. Some vampires like to bite there for a sexual effect…trust me I know that one. I still have the scars from cleansing the bites with holy water. I hesitated a little embarrassed by about what I had to do…ok for all my talk and stuff I can be modest with a stranger…even a dead one. I look and sure enough two more fang marks. I use my tape measure and measure the bite marks and write the measurements down below the ones from the claw marks. They were all three different which means there were had one Lycanthrope and three vampires that attacked this man at the same time. Not a good day at all…and it was not to feed. There was too much body left for the werecat to have fed and too much blood for the vampires to have fed. A single vampire cannot feed off of a person's whole supply of blood. They just can't drink that much. A man this size may have six or six and a half quarts of blood in him and there is not way a vampire can drink that much at a single setting and they don't need that much anyway. Three…year they could come close but with the blood on the ground and splattered all around it was just to much left over for three vampires to feed. They killed this man not for food but just to kill.

I got up and removed my bloodstained gloves and threw them in the large black plastic garbage bag with all the other bloody gloves from previous people and walked back up to Stan and Zimmerman. I saw Stan wave the feds over as I got to him. He held up his hand for me to be quiet until they got there.

"So what do you know, Ms. Puckett?" Williamson asked in a snide manner. I ignored him and turned my attention to Stan.

"Well...the short version. He was attacked by a lycanthrope and three vampires."

Stan gave me a go ahead motion with his hand. "Ok…tell me why you think that?"

Good ole Stan. He liked to play twenty questions with me. I hated it but knew why he did it. He looked at the body and he saw what I did and I think he even came to the same conclusions but he wanted my opinion without making any snap judgments. Like I said…he was a good detective.

"The body was ripped out by claw marks that are to big to be of any natural large cat we have in the area and he was attacked in the front. Large predatory cats attack from behind." I look at my notes, "The three vampire marks are all from three different sets of fangs. Their widths don't match up."

"Ok…first why did you say cat? Why not a werewolf?" Stan asked.

"Because a wolf will not use its paws to kill, they prefer teeth and a cat will. They like to rip and tear to get to the meat."

Stan nodded and I could see he agreed with me. "Ok…so we have a werecat and three vamps who fed on him. Is that common?" Now he was asking something he did not know.

I shake my head, "No…not at all. First they did not feed off of him. The cat did not eat…there were not jaw or teeth marks and no signs of it feeding. The same with the vampires…too much blood for three not to have fed on the man. Now that is the strange part. The man's neck was not broken; besides his ribs and sternum being broke from the cat ripping into him there were no signs of other broken bones…so that means the bites themselves were not lethal. It was the cat that killed him."

"Why is that strange?" Williams asked.

I turned to him, "Because it was as if they were marking him…like some serial killers do." I notice Agent Harris raise his eyebrows and look at Williams.

"Ok…what's going on here?" I ask Stan. "Why the feds? They don't just come show up at a murder scene like this."

I see Harris nod to Stan and Stan looked at me, "This is the third body we have found like this. All three bodies were ripped open with three separate vampire bites all in the same place."

"Jesus and Joseph, Stan! Why didn't you call me after the first one? You at least knew it was a vampire! Damn it, Stan…we are talking about a serial killer here…three to be exact…and I get called in on the third vic! Fuck…why?" I am screaming as I pull off my bloody cover alls. When I get out of them a uniform cop come up and opens a trash bag and I throw them in the bag so angry I did not even thank him.

"Calm down, Sam, the chef did not want you called in…he does not like civilians on our crime scenes you know that. He did not want you in on this one but I made the call anyway. Now tell me…why this is not normal…three vampires and a lycanthrope attacking together?"

I take a deep breath and calm myself and see Agent Williams staring at my gun and also see his eyes look over my left arm. I have a large scar there that starts at the elbow and ends at my wrist. It is pretty ugly and jagged looking and only about eight months old. It will fade more in time. Happened when a vampire was trying to get at my throat and I was blocking his mouth with my left arm and used the gun in my right to blow his brains out

"I got more, Williams, if you care to see." I say was I pull the collar of my tee shirt down to saw him the start of the long nasty jagged scar there. I normally did not care if people ogle my scars…I was used them now…but I don't flaunt them either. I was just pissed. First by his attitude to me from the moment we met, seeing the man ripped apart, not being called in on the earlier two victims, and now the way he was looking at me…pity about my scars. Yeah he was looking at me with pity for the poor cute petite girl all scarred up. I hated that the most.

I glare at him as I show him my shoulder, "Yeah a real mean vamp did that one, Williams. He didn't do it to feed he did it to hurt me. Chewed on me like a rabid dog before someone stuck a shot gun against his head and splattered his undead brains all over me." God was I edgey today or what? Oh that some one was Henry.

"Sam! That's enough!" I hear Stan shout. I turn back to him ready to focus my anger on him but he does not back down. He just gives me those blank cop eyes and I sigh.

"Sorry…I am just pissed. Maybe if I had been called earlier we could have caught the bastards who did this and that man down there would be alive." My eyes soften a little as I look up at Stan. "His name…what's his name?" I wanted the name now. I had seen the body and now I wanted a name to go with it.

Stan pulled out his notes, "Clarence Foskey. Age twenty eight. Works as an investment banker and his wife said he always gets up early…around three…to go jogging before he goes into work."

Fuck! I scream in my head. Wife…just great, "Any…any kids?" I ask.

Stan nods, "Two…one three…girl…and one five…boy."

"Do you feel that is important, Ms. Puckett? Let us handle the investigation. You just tell us what you know about the vamps and the shapeshifters." Williams smirks. He was letting me know I was not a cop.

"Fuck you, Williams." Yeah I did not need to know if Clarence had kids and it hurt to know that he did. There were two little kids out there whose daddy was not coming home tonight. The little girl would not get tucked in by daddy or read a bedtime story. The little boy would no longer have a daddy to teach him to play baseball. It sucked I know and it made me fell hurt to know. But I had to…I always had to so I could say a little prayer for the little kids and their mommy before I went to sleep tonight. I know it won't help them cope…but it helps me.

"Williams, go wait by the car." I hear Agent Harris say and turn to me as Williams stomped off. "Ms. Puckett, could you please answer the detective's question? Besides the obvious why is it not normal?"

I smile at him…him he was nice and could call me Sam. "Well first of all Lycanthropes and vampires really don't get along. They may join up to help strengthen a power base for a temporary alliance but it won't last. And I think we also are dealing with at least one master vampire here."

"Why…why do you think that and what do you mean a master vampire?"

"A master vampire is an old vampire…at least three to four hundred years old. Now not every vampire that old or older is a master. Some can be a thousand years old and never become a master vamp. Don't ask me why it happens…I don't know and neither do they. It just happens. I like to think of it as a person born with natural talent for something…like intelligence…some people can never crack a book and they are geniuses. Others can study all their lives and work hard to improve themselves but they will never be as smart as the genius. Master vampires have more powers but they are not all the same. I have came across some master vampires who can't mind fuck you…sorry…use their mind to mesmorise you and two who could make you believe anything they wanted you to…not just believe it but actually live it. Some can levitate and others can't…I can't explain why that happened either it is just they way it is…like their genetic makeup or something. Now just because some of them are not master vampires does not mean they are not some powerful or scary bastards but it takes a master vampire to be able to control two…what I am assuming…lesser vampires not to feed like this. They get the scent of blood and it can make them want nothing else. So yeah…they had to be controlled by a master vampire…and then there is the werecat."

"Explain." Harris said simply but politely. "Last night was not a full moon…so are you sure it was a wereanimal?"

I nod, "Not a hundred percent but I would say ninety nine percent. It was just to fucking big not to be. And lycanthropes don't have to have a full moon to shift. Than can shift at will but on the full moon they will change whether they want to or not."

"And does it take a master vampire to control a shapeshifter?'

"No…but for one to kill without eating…yes. Lycanthropes are powerful in their own right and I have seen some more powerful than a master vampire. In a one on one fight without being able to use their mind tricks or mental powers I would put my money on a strong shapeshifter over an equally strong vampire. But…this…well…I have came across only two vampires that had a very unique ability. They could force a lycanthrope to change and then if they wanted they could control it. That is what I think happened here. For it not to eat he or she was controlled."

"And who would they be and are they in this area?" Stan said and took out his little notebook.

"One is Cassandra and she was over three thousand years old."

"Was?" Harris asked me.

"Yeah…was…she's dead." I say flatly.

"Are you sure…one hundred percent?"

I look him in the eyes, "Yeah…I am one hundred percent. I killed her."

Harris frowns, "She was not on you list of executions."

What the fuck? They checked me out! Those bastards had pulled my police file and checked me out. I stare at him coldly, "Yeah I am fucking sure agent! I fucking did the deed myself and the reason she is not on any record you morbid fucks may keep on me is because I was only fucking seventeen years old and the monsters weren't legal then! Her fucking heart was cut out, her head chopped off, her body burned to ash, and those ashes scattered in a body of running water! No she is not coming back!" Oh God...please never let her come back…please. I pray quickly. Yeah she still scared me even in death. I never met another vampire as strong or as scary as she was and I hope I never do.

Now I normally don't get this hysterical and normally would never have lost my cool…honest I wouldn't…but I was afraid of the next question I knew I had to answer…I was terrified of the next question and getting very on edge.

"Ok…umm…we will scratch her. Who is the other one?" He ask in his polite voice.

And there it was. I had to tell them. I mean three murders and it was maybe the prime suspect…I had to. I was one of the good guys, right? I had not choice!

"C…she goes by the name Carly now…her original name is…is Julia." I stammer out and I want to run all of a sudden. I want to run home and get into bed and pray for God to never let this day happen.

"And since you seem to know a lot about them…is she attached to this city?"

"No…she's not." I look at Stan. "Can…can I have a moment, Stan, and then I answer more questions. Please." He must have seen the pleading in m eyes and nodded. He of course did not know about my history with Carly…I don't kiss and tell…but he saw something and knew I needed this and he knew I never asked him for favors like this unless it was bad….and man was it bad…for me at least.

I walk up the hill a little and sit down in the grass. It was all coming together. The contract on her life, Henry coming here to Seattle, the murders…I knew it was a very rare ability for a vampire to be able to call out a lycanthropes beast and control it and Carly could…all the thoughts ran through my head. Is this why someone wanted Carly dead? Did the person who put the contact on her know she was doing this and maybe she murdered someone who knew and wanted revenge? But why her? I mean she would never do this or am I just so damn blind to her? Yeah she is a vampire and I know what that means. I know she is powerful…very powerful…but is she capable of this? Yes she is…I have seen it. I have seen what she had done when Cassandra showed me that night in her coffin. Carly has done things that made what I saw today look like a scrape on a kids elbow. Yes she was capable of doing this and much worse…so much worse. She always hated when the vamps got outed. She used to tell me as we lay naked in bed that she hated being known. She was on of the old vampires who preferred to keep their ancient secret. She much preferred when her kind was just whispered nightmares. Yeah…I know she could do this…but would she? Has something changed in her over the past year I did not know about? Had she became her old self again and not the girl…vampire…I fell in love with? Maybe…vampires were not a very consistent lot and I did not trust any of them…so should I trust her? A vampire survived on violence, evil, and lies so why should she be different? I have seen to many of them to believe she should be any different than the rest! Maybe I was letting my feelings for her get out of control. Maybe I let her confuse me on who the monsters were? Maybe it was time I finally realized again they were all monsters and none of them could be trusted regardless of what they whispered to you as they made love to you!

I put my hands over my face and put my head down and start to cry. I did not want to…not here in front of the cops and their macho bullshit men's club but I could not help it. Carly broke my heart once when she just stopped seeing me without a word and I cried then…I cried for months…and I finally got over it. I started to get better…but today she broke my heart again. The first time was something I had to live with and could let go after a time. This time it was not as easy. This time it was not only my life but the life of Clarence Foskey and his wife and his two kids whose daddy was never going to come home and kiss them good night and the life of those two other nameless victims. This time I could not let it go. This time I had to do my job…this time I may have to kill Carly. The next time I see her I may not be Samantha Puckett…the girl who loves her…the next time I see her I may have to be The Executioner.