Disclaimer: I do not own Lost Girl. This work is not for profit, just for fun.
Chapter 2: On Scene
Sweet milk.
It was the taste on his lips and the smell that clogged his nostrils. His stomach twisted and turned in ways he couldn't imagine possible, but that's what happened to the lactose-intolerant. It was something that happened to all shifters, just another part of sharing an animals mind and body. It was also very effective at blocking the other stench hanging in the air.
Hale took one sniff beside him, made a gagging face, and turned to Dyson. Dyson shrugged and looked at the room around him.
"What's the cover story?" Dyson whispered.
"Bear attack," Hale said, and it looked like a damn bear attack.
The room was torn apart with the bed being the worst. Stuffing was torn out of it, and blood was soaked into it. The girl on top of it was also shredded. The torn in half kind of shredded. Her intestines, stomach, hell most of her internal organs were splattered all over the walls in thick strands of black and grey. Her eyes were open, glazed, and a lovely shad of blue. Her hair was blonde.
Dyson knew her.
"How is a bear attack covering this?" Dyson asked. He looked around the room again, shaking his head. He noticed a vase of blood splattered white roses and forgot them as soon as he looked away. "It's on the thirty-fourth floor?"
"I dunno," Hale said. He glanced at Dyson, then back to the corpse. "They're buying it though."
"I would too," Dyson said. He caught sight of the corpse's pink lips with just a thin sheen of liquid on them. She'd put lipstick on before…before all this happened. He licked his lips and tasted the sweet milk. His mind wanted to wander, wanted to try and figure out who it was that kissed him. It could have been Bo. Could have been, but Dyson didn't think it was. He'd never seen Bo drink milk before, let alone sweetened milk. But, then, just because he'd never seen it doesn't mean it didn't happen.
"Gods," Hale said, shaking his head. He'd walked around to the other side of the bed. "That stink will fill the city soon enough, if that beast hangs around long enough."
"Werewolves don't stick around long," Dyson said. He stepped to the other side of the bed and took a long look down at the corpse. He knew her, alright, but he couldn't place her. Where had he seen her? Met her?
Who kissed him?
"They know we'd hunt them down, and cut their heads off with silver axes."
"Too much risk of humans finding out," Hale said. He glanced over at the cops in the other room, standing around and chatting while the detectives did their thing. But, they're faces were too pale, their laughter to forced. Those men knew it wasn't a bear attack, they could smell the death hanging in the air as easily as Hale could. They knew the monster responsible for this was beyond their nature.
They knew terror.
"The Ash will never agree to a hunting party in the city," Hale said, finishing his thought. He started to poke around at the items laying on the nightstand while Dyson continued to stare at the corpse.
A werewolf was in town. A beast that sent shivers down the spine of the bravest Fey. Nothing on earth and heaven could hunt like a werewolf. Given enough time their scent would mask their location, and their senses, even in human form, were just as strong as they were in animal form. Hunting one was often tantamount to suicide, even in a hunting party, while sitting around and waiting for it to leave was like… Dyson couldn't come up with a simile for what the second option would be. He supposed murder or homicide would work. Murder and homicide cases just like this one.
Who is she?
Who kissed me?
"You know this girl?" Hale asked, looking across the bed. He had an unfolded piece of paper in his hand but Dyson couldn't read what was written. Dyson cocked an eyebrow, looking very much like an auburn haired version of a pointy-eared hobgoblin.
"She's familiar," Dyson said.
"I'd hope so," Hale said. "She's got your cell number."
Hale held the slip out to Dyson, and Dyson could see his cell number right across the bottom in his combination neat and messy script. He nodded.
"I met her at a bar," Dyson said. "One up town I think. Near the crossover, but not quite Dark Fey territory. She was hot. We had sex. And, I've ignored her phone calls since then. Her name's Jessica or Jennifer, something that starts with a J."
"That's going to look bad," Hale said. He looked down at the body, inspected the razor like claw marks all around the edge of the tears between the two pieces. The flesh of Jessica or Jennifer's stomach was entirely gone with the exception of two ribbons of flesh, one with her belly button intact.
"I didn't do this," Dyson's voice climbed a notch. One of the other police officers looked over at them, and Hale smiled.
"Nah," he said. "I meant Bo."
A smile twisted Dyson's lips, even with the tragedy before him, Hale's simple joke had a positive effect. Dyson couldn't help the smartass reply.
"Hell, the only reason Bo would be mad is because I didn't bring her along."
:***:
The station was overtly crowded. It wasn't the number of criminals, but the number of cops in the building. Each of them had their own unpleasant smell. Dyson wasn't bothered by it though. He still had the taste and smell of sweet milk on his lips. And, now that they were away from the stench of death and werewolf, he had time to figure out who the culprit was. The kissing culprit of course.
Dyson's thoughts on that were limited though, mainly by the number of people who had a key to Bo's house. There was no sign of forced entry, though as dilapidated as the building was, finding a way inside without breaking anything would be pretty easy. As for the people who had a key it was a short list.
Him.
Bo.
Kenzi.
Trick.
Lauren.
And, he could knock Lauren and Trick off the list. He and Lauren hadn't seen eye-to-eye since her fling with Bo, and why in the human's god's name would Trick kiss him? It was just…wrong on so many levels.
That would leave Bo and Kenzi on the list.
Dyson could understand Bo doing it. A little good morning kiss, or good-bye kiss, before she ran off to work on her latest case, whatever that might be. But, Kenzi had said Bo left right around six this morning, and Dyson had been woken up by a slamming door or two around seven.
That left Kenzi.
Dyson licked his lips. Sweet Milk.
Kenzi liked Rice Crispies, a cereal where one had to put sugar in the milk to give it a flavor. But, why would Kenzi…
"Look who's here," Hale said, nearly startling Dyson out of his skin.
"The hell," Dyson said, glancing at Hale first. His partner pointed over his shoulder, towards the fogged glass door. Dyson looked, and found Kenzi looking right at him. The expression on her face was sad and her skin tone paler than usual. She was holding something.
Kenzi liked Rice Crispies. Sweet milk.
She moved closer to the partners, and Dyson could see the inflamed skin around her eyes. And, the little box in her hand.
Kenzi had been in the bathroom when Dyson talked to her. She had the door shut and locked, even with the human shaped hole in the wall.
The box had a little pink ribbon wrapped around it, and a little bow on the top. His name was written on it in a smooth Palmer script.
Why would Kenzi kiss him?
"This came for you," she said and handed him the box. He glanced at it, but couldn't keep his eyes off her lips. There was a dry patch of milk on the corner of her mouth.
"What's in the box?" Dyson asked. He forced himself to look away, to look at the box.
Why would Kenzi kiss him?
"I dunno," Kenzi said, seeming to answer both questions at once. She handed the box to Dyson. He kept his eyes on the small thing, kept them from wondering back up to Kenzi's lips. He took the ribbon off with one smooth motion, and lifted the lid.
Inside…
Author's note: Sorry about the length of time it took to put this up. I'm trying to find a way to be able to get a chapter up at least once a week, preferably on Friday or Saturday. But, with my chaotic work schedule it's hard to find time to work on this and my original work. Hopefully we'll get something lined out.
