"Well, no time like the present I supposed," Combeferre said, her voice cheerful. She stood from her desk and led Eponine and Grantaire to a table in the corner of the office. "Have a seat. We'll get to it."
The three got comfortable in their seats around the table. Eponine retrieved the victim's hair from the baggie and sat it in the middle. As Combeferre instructed, the three joined hands, silence growing amongst them.
"Spirits that have departed, I call on you to ask assistance."
Combeferre spoke quietly and reverently, her voice deep from the back of her throat.
"A life has been taken from this realm far beyond her time. We need your help in order to avenge her short life."
A sudden cold overtook Eponine and she closed her eyes, listening to Combeferre's words as images filled her mind - the young, blond woman playing with a toddler. The same woman working in what looked like a chic restaurant. Images continued to fill her mind as Combeferre's words twisted and turned into nothingness surrounding her.
She began to breath heavily, the images shifting into something unfamiliar - the forrest moving around her so quickly. Eponine was seeing what the girl was, experiencing the same things she had - the same fear, the same anger, every single emotion seared through Eponine just like it was her own. "Lucie, please don't leave!" Eponine can hear the yelling in the background but pain fills her own body and she is sure that she expressed it loudly. Her bones break. Her blood rushes. She is not herself.
"Eponine! Eponine snap out of it!"
Grantaire shook her awake, concern lining his face.
She looked up at him, confused and even a bit frightened.
"She's a wolf. The girl was a wolf!"
Eponine stepped through the door of the police station and immediately shivered. She hated the way it felt inside - it came from years spent trying to be rebellious and only ending up behind bars. Even though her position had changed to the other side of the law, she still felt uncomfortable, and most of the cops didn't know what to feel about her. In some ways she scared them, and Eponine tried to use that to her advantage. But thankfully Bahorel was positioned at the front desk when she walked in.
"Hey, is Enjolras here?"
He nodded, though his attention was more taken up by a few papers in front of him.
"Yeah, I think so. He's been busy thanks to the latest body showing up."
Eponine leaned against the desk, rubbing her temple lightly.
"Do you still talk to Feuilly?" she asked suddenly, attention turned toward Bahorel. "I know that things get iffy when you… leave the pack," Eponine lowered her voice, trying to not draw attention to their conversation, "but you left on good terms."
Bahorel turned his full attention to her then and nodded. "Yeah. I wasn't abjured. We still talk sometimes… why?"
She sighed and stood from her spot. "I might need to get in touch with him soon." She tapped her knuckles on Bahorel's desk before moving around him, heading back toward where Enjolras's office was.
"Well, Miss Jondrette decides to grace us with her presence."
Eponine paused and contemplated continuing on her way and ignoring the voice behind her but she turned around instead, eyes falling on the tall figure of Enjolras's boss, Chief Javert.
"How's it hanging, Chief," she greeted, mock saluting him in a lazy manner.
"What the hell are you doing here, Jondrette? I thought I made it clear last time that bothering my officers is off limits. We don't need private detectives doing the job of real detectives."
She rolled her eyes, arms crossing along her chest. "I'm not here to get in the way. Just to visit Enjolras. It's a friendly visit."
The two figures stared at each other, both with narrowed eyes. Years ago Javert had watched her die, only to catch her with Enjolras days later. Ever since then he didn't trust her and Eponine couldn't blame him - he was confused and she couldn't explain why she was still alive. But ever since then he had treated her like a criminal and as much as Eponine wanted to prove him wrong, she'd grown tired of trying.
As soon as Eponine took a step forward, more than ready to confront the man, there was a cough to her left and she turned only to be met with Enjolras's disapproving glare.
"I see you two are having a nice chat. Anything I can help with?" he asked, pulling his glasses from his face.
"Nope. Not at all," Eponine said, backing down slightly though her fists remained clenched at her side. "We need to talk."
Enjolras nodded and pressed his hand to her back, guiding her away from Javert and toward his office.
—
In the comfort of Enjolras's office, Eponine slumped down into a chair, feet resting up on his desk. Enjolras sat in his own chair, hands steepled in front of him.
"I'm going to assume something big has happened, otherwise you wouldn't show up here after I've asked you not to."
Eponine nodded, still on edge after the meeting with Javert.
"Grantaire took me to see a friend - some Combeferre lady. She's a psychic."
He nodded, following her story surprisingly easy.
"I… saw what happened to the girl. Her name is.. was Lucie. She was a werewolf."
Enjolras's eyes widened and he leaned back in his chair. The tension that rose in his eyes was enough to slice with a knife and Eponine felt uncomfortable.
"How deep is this going to go before you let the supes deal with it?" she asked, voice soft.
"Am I just supposed to ignore all these murders that keep popping up? Javert's constantly on my ass and the mayor is getting more and more pissed every day they go unsolved. I can't exactly tell him what's really happening.."
"What is happening?" Eponine asked, dropping her feet from his desk.
Enjolras took a moment before he shrugged, a heavy sigh following.
"I don't know…"
Eponine wanted to express how much they needed to find out - how more and more people would die unless they found the murderer, instead she stood up and dug her hands into her pockets.
"I'm going to go out to the werewolf camp, see if Feuilly even knows Lucie is dead. There was someone yelling to her - begging her to come back. Maybe she's got a mate or something."
"I'll come with you."
"Are you sure you're not needed here? Javert won't take too kindly if you just up and leave," Eponine teased, a smile turning up the corners of her lips.
"I think the station will make it without me for a few hours."
—
The drive out to the camp is long and silent - even the radio doesn't join them because reception is horrible out in the middle of the woods. Eponine spent her time looking through the case file, hoping to find something that would jump out at her. Instead, by the time they pulled up to Feuilly's trailer, she was frustrated.
Enjolras turned the car off and looked around, a concerned glint in his eyes. He glanced around the trailer park from his vantage point in the car and narrowed his eyes.
"What's wrong?" Eponine asked, hand hovering near the door handle.
"Something's not… right," he muttered, immediately reaching for the gun in his holster. "It's too quiet. Feuilly's never not outside working. This trailer park isn't alive."
She looked at Enjolras as the realization dawned on her. He was right.
He stepped out of the car and Eponine followed, staying close as he quietly approached Feuilly's trailer. Enjolras paused to knock, but the door swayed open on its own.
"Stay behind me," he instructed, although Eponine rolled her eyes.
The two moved through the house slowly, inspecting anything that looked out of place. Groaning escalated from the back room and both immediately turned in the direction. It was Eponine that moved first, despite Enjolras harshly whispering from behind her. When Eponine made it to Feuilly's office, the room that occupied the end of the trailer, she stopped short as she entered.
"Oh my god.."
The sight of her friend laying on the floor in a pool of his own blood was enough to churn her stomach.
"Enjolras! Call an ambulance!"
"No.. no, don't… no ambulance."
Feuilly lifted himself weakly, his voice as weak as he seemed.
"I'm healing. I'll be fine soon."
Eponine and Enjolras both moved to Feuilly's side and knelt beside him, trying their best to help the injured man. Enjolras helped Feuilly to sit up and looked around at the blood on the floor.
"What happened?" Eponine asked, tenderly pressing her fingers to the wounds that littered Feuilly's face - most were already scarred over because of the healing factor werewolves had, but some still looked fresh and deep.
He hissed as he touched them and immediately she pulled her hand away.
"It was a massacre. A goddamned massacre."
