(A/N: I unintentionally dropped off the map but have once again been charged with the muse of writing. Good news because I never wanted to leave this story incomplete. I wonder what will happen everyone's favorite, pineapple loving "fake" psychic. ;) )

Chapter Seven: Kick The Dust Up

One week. Seven days had passed since one Shawn Spencer re-entered the sacred grounds of police headquarters in sunny Santa Barbara. Eleven days and counting from the moment when human beings started vanishing under more than normal circumstances. Okay…no crime is usual because the death of anyone is not normal. Especially when said victim, said person is drained of all 4.7 seven liters of blood. Thankfully, most of the general population remain blissfully unaware of the world behind the world. This fact however does not discredit those who are paid to make it their business.

Shortly thereafter leaving the sterilized environment of the morgue, Chief Lassiter had started his ascent back into his office when an unfamiliar whisper caressed his thoughts. Even before he was bitten and turned into a werewolf; he and just about every police officer knew of or at the least expected there to be an off the records division within their ranks that handled anything "spooky". No longer could this particular officer of the law pretend otherwise.

"Perfect." Carlton muttered underneath his breath before straightening up the ice blue tie around his neck. Not long afterwards, he checked the time which currently was just after six in the evening. This was important because the station would be just about empty. The abrupt ringing of his iPhone from within his suit jacket pocket snapped him out of present musings. Without skipping a beat, Lassiter answered the call with a clip response.

After his impromptu beach excursion, Shawn had found himself using the trusty hide-a-key under the front porch rug that decorated his once childhood home. His eyes had already taken in the subtle changes instilled by the current tenants – the Lassiter's. Shawn quietly unlocked the door and slipped inside, careful to remain as quiet as possible. Before he could get further then fives steps inside, a voice to his left cleared her throat. "Sneaking around in your own…former home? Do you think that wise 'psychic'? A smirk could clearly be heard within the teasing threat as Shawn turned to face the music.

"Good seeing you too, Marlowe." He turned to face the one and only Marlowe Lassiter as she stepped better into view. "I had hoped to make this visit quick just long enough to freshen up and be on my way. Clearly I am out of practice to not have sensed otherwise." Offering a small smile, the psychic held Marlowe's gaze for what felt like an eternity until arms suddenly wrapped around him in a friendly hug. "Despite our differences, Shawn, you are always welcomed here. And besides, Carlton had a feeling that you would stop by so we had the guest room ready just in case."

They parted ways, giving Shawn the chance to process the surprisingly warm welcome. "Hmm, definitely out of practice." At those words, Marlowe chuckled as she turned to walk into the next room. What she didn't see was the genuine smile crossing Shawn's face. Sobering quickly, he started upstairs when a familiar voice entered his mind. "Be ready Spencer."