When Little Red Cap entered the woods a wolf came up to her. She did not know what a wicked animal he was, and was not afraid of him.

-The Brothers Grimm, "Little Red Cap"

Henry woke briefly in the middle of the night to find the truck had been parked in front of an airport. He saw that Hank was sound asleep in the backseat and he could hear Regina outside doing something. He watched her come around from the back of the truck in the rearview mirror.

"Where are we?" he asked when she had gotten back into the truck.

"We are in the long term parking lot of Cheyenne Regional Airport," she said. "It isn't a good idea to get caught wearing the plates of a stolen truck that belonged to a murder victim. So I switched them out with one of the trucks here. Hopefully they won't even realize when they get back, but just in case, we should probably get a new car in a few days. It's a trick that an old friend of mine once showed me. She knew how to get away with all sorts of things like this."

Whether or not Regina had continued talking about her friend, Henry wasn't sure, as he had drifted off to sleep again.

The next morning they stopped for breakfast at Granny's Diner, a restaurant located in the middle of nowhere New Mexico. Other than a small gas station, it was the only building on the highway in sight. Around them stretched nothing but sparse shrublands and the occasional cow pasture. It was warmer here, but not by much, and still cold enough to leave Hank in the truck without worrying about him overheating. At least there was no snow on the ground. Inside, the diner was fashioned to mimic the classic fifties look, though it was not so much classic as tacky. The whole place was a display of bright pink and turquoise plastic, Elvis posters, and dingy tile. The food smelled good, though, and Henry could feel his stomach begin to growl. It wasn't what you could call crowded, as there was only one other customer in the place, a middle aged man with his face hidden behind a newspaper. Regina and Henry slid into one of the booths and waited for the waitress to take their order.

"Are you a serial killer, like Hannibal Lecter?" Henry blurted out.

"What, no! And keep your voice down!" She scrunched up her face as if revolted or insulted, but then she sighed and gave a shrug. "Actually that might not be too far off. I'm not a cannibal, though. Not exactly."

Henry didn't know what that meant, so he stayed quiet and hoped that she'd say more.

"I mean a human that eats humans is a cannibal, but I'm not…" she trailed off. "And I only eat the hearts and drink the blood, none of that nasty organ stuff."

"You're a vampire?"

"Sort of. Not like Dracula. A different kind."

"Do you have super powers?"

She looked around the diner, making sure no one was close enough to hear.

"I can turn into a vulture. I'm strong, like really strong. And I can do some magic with fire and reanimating corpses, that sort of thing."

She stopped talking as the waitress came up to take their breakfast orders. Once the woman had left, Henry leaned in and whispered, "So you eat real food, too?"

Regina wasn't sure why this was the question he decided to be the quietest for, but she mimicked him anyway, leaning forward conspiratorially.

"Yes, I love a good omelette," she said.

"But you need blood."

"Only like once a month or so."

"So you kill people?" His eyes were so wide as he asked it. It would have been comical if it wasn't a conversation about murder with a ten year old.

"I, um, haven't found any other way to get what I need," she said, looking ashamed. "But I do try to only kill ones like your foster parents, you know. Real pieces of shit...But don't say 'shit,' kid." She quickly corrected herself on the bad language.

They paused the conversation again as the food arrived. It smelled even better when it was sitting right in front of them. Henry dove into his pancakes with a fervor, but Regina took a moment to watch him, fiddling with her fork.

"Jesus, kid, were they even feeding you?" she asked.

Henry looked up for a moment, wondering if he should be embarrassed, and then shrugged. The Laroys had fed him, but sometimes they forgot and sometimes, when they were mad, they sent him to bed without dinner. Besides nothing could taste as good as this. The old lady behind the counter could cook like no other.

"So how'd you end up with them?" Regina asked.

"My birth parents didn't want me, I guess. Or they died. I don't really know. I just know I never knew them. I went to other foster families before the Laroys. Some of them were better, I guess. I liked the Malonsons. They were old, but nice."

"How old were you when the Laroys adopted you?"

"Eight. I was with them for two years."

Henry stared at her for a moment, shifting a little uncomfortably.

"You're not going to take me back, right?" he asked.

"No, I'm not. I'm your guardian vampire, remember?" She smiled at him. Her teeth were still a little unsettling, but it nice nonetheless. "Why don't you go pick a song to play on the jukebox?"

She handed him a handful of quarters and he ran up to the old machine. He took a moment to glance over the names of the available songs, but he didn't recognize any of them. He selected one called "Mack the Knife," because he thought Regina would like something like that.

While he was up, Regina caught a snippet of a conversation that the man with the newspaper was having with the waitress. Something about an attack in town. Her back was to them, but she could hear them well enough.

"That's awful," the waitress said. "What do they think did it? Coyotes?"

"Something bigger than that. Mountain lion or bear is my guess. You know, these tourists come here thinking they can hike the trails with no idea of what they're doing, and then something like this happens. I tell you, I had a cousin who got bit by a bobcat, and even that little sucker got two of his fingers. It'd have to be something big, though, I'll tell you that. I mean, there was nothing left of the guy, except a few parts and a lot of blood," said the man.

Regina looked over at the counter and saw that she was not the only one listening in. The cook, a plump older woman with curly gray hair piled on top of her head, was watching them intently. She was wiping down the countertop, but her attention was obviously on the waitress and the man, and she hadn't looked down at the spot she was washing in over a minute. She noticed that Regina had caught her staring, however, and looked away with a frown on her face.

Oh, the shark, babe, has such teeth, dear, and it shows them pearly white.

An old jazzy song began to play on the jukebox as Henry returned to the booth.

"Good choice," said Regina, not really listening to the song, but it made Henry smile to hear her say it. Her attention was still on the animal attack, though the man and the waitress had moved on to a different topic of conversation. It could have been a bear or a mountain lion attack, but in her experience, that was rarely the case.

"Let's get out of here. I'll get you a box for the rest of your pancakes," said Regina.

The fire department had managed to stop the blaze at the Laroy's house sometime during the night, but the fire had been devastating. Now all that remained was a pile of rubble and some lingering smoke. The yard, the barn, even the little doghouse, had remained untouched by the fire, but the house itself had been burned down to ash. A few of the support beams were still somewhat intact, but they were blackened and weak and would fall down soon enough.

"What a goddamn mess," said Emma Swan, looking at the charred bones of the old farmhouse.

"Let's pull the bodies out and see what we can find," said her partner, Graham Humbert.

This was not exactly how Emma had wanted to spend her day off, first investigating an apparent case of spontaneous human combustion and then a house fire about a hundred miles away. Spontaneous human combustions were almost always cryptid related and this case seemed no different. It was cleaner than most, but it still reeked of inhuman involvement, which meant that she and Graham were on the case. They were agents of the Bureau of Cryptid Concealment, more commonly known as the B.C.C., an organization that specialized in keeping the supernatural population hidden from the general public.

They managed to uncover the bodies from the rubble, though there was nothing left except for the bones, which themselves were covered in stress fractures from the heat. Having the second floor of the building collapse and fall upon the bodies did nothing the help their condition. It was going to be difficult to identify them, even trying to use dental records.

"The owners on the deed were Tom, age 41, and Sharon, 38, Laroy. They had a ten year old foster son named Henry. I think we can safely say that these are the bodies of the parents. No child sized skeletons, luckily."

"Ten years old," said Emma, lost in thought. She snapped herself out of it and then added, "No sign of the boy. Do you think we can track him?"

"Maybe. We also need to think about what we're dealing with here. Is this an arsonist that burns for pleasure and accidentally kills along the way? If that's the case, it could be a particularly violent phoenix or an anzu, maybe even a jinn."

"But the hotel burning was only of the body. If they were after a big fire for fun, wouldn't they want to set the whole place alight?"

"Nice work," said Graham. Though he looked about the same age as Emma, he was a good twenty years older and had worked for the B.C.C. for much longer. She was technically no longer a trainee, but she still had a lot to learn about the job.

"So they either used the fire to kill the victims or to cover up the crime," said Emma.

"And my money's on the later. Many cryptids have some pretty distinctive ways of killing or eating people, and fire hides a lot of marks. I'm going to change and sniff around, see if I can pick anything up."

Graham pulled off his shirt and trousers, and handed them to Emma. He then hunched over, his face twisted in a grimace of pain. His muscles began to shift and move around, looking like there were eels writhing beneath his skin. His fingers stretched and the nails lengthened into claws, his teeth got sharper, his eyes turned yellow, and with a sound like a backbone popping, he fell onto all fours in the form of a wolf. Well, close enough to a wolf. He was a little bigger and higher in the shoulder, and his head was a little more square, but from a distance he would look to anyone like a wolf.

He paced around the house and yard, sniffing the wreckage and the items there. He even went around the barn and investigated the empty dog house. After thoroughly getting the scent of the place he shifted back into a man.

"I think I got a clear scent of the boy, in the doghouse of all places. There's something else here, as well. It isn't human, that's for sure, but I don't recognize it at all," he said.

"Do you think it's our guy?" Emma asked.

"I think so. That scent and the little boy's both head in the same direction. The killer must have taken him. You take the car and follow along beside me." With that he was back in the form of the wolf and running down the driveway.

Emma threw his clothes into the backseat of their car and started driving after him. He was quick in his wolf form, but his light gray fur was easy to see. Emma thought about the child, Henry, as she drove. There must be hundreds of thousands of foster kids in the US and thousands of those who were ten year old boys. Still she couldn't help but to think of her own little boy, who would be ten years old now - but no, she shook her head, trying to get such thoughts out of her head. She needed to focus on this case.

The truck made a screech and then a pitiful sputtering sound and the engine died again. Regina tried for the fifth time to start it, but this time it made no sound at all.

"Damn thing," she muttered. She got out of the truck and opened up the hood to look underneath. There was no smoke at least, and she figured that was a pretty good sign. They were still in the parking lot of Granny's, trying to get the truck to start. So much for leaving town quickly.

"What's wrong with it?" Henry asked.

"I don't know. Do I look like a mechanic?" Regina snapped, more harshly than she had intended. It looked very much like an engine to her, but other than that she couldn't discern much about it. Nothing was obviously broken or missing. She slammed the hood back down.

"Stay here. I'll go call a tow truck inside," she said.

"Back already?" asked the cook, when Regina walked back into the diner.

"I can't get my car to start. Do you have the number for a good tow truck?"

"Sure do. You're definitely not the first person to break down around here." The woman handed her a business card. "Billy'll take care of you."

Regina went outside to use the old pay phone. She didn't trust cell phones enough to carry one of her own, not even a burner. She got a hold of Billy, who said it would take him twenty minutes to get out to them. She then went back into the truck.

"Tow truck will be here soon," she said, rubbing her hands together to warm them. "Hopefully we can get this fixed quickly and be back on the road."

"Where are we going?"

"New Orleans. I've got a friend there that may be able to help us out with some stuff."

"What about the animal attack?"

"You heard them talking about that?" Regina asked.

"Yeah, they weren't quiet about it."

"So, what do you mean 'what about it?'"

"I mean, you're like a superhero. We should probably stop it." He leaned toward her, looking hopeful and eager.

"First of all, there is no we. And second, there is not even a me. We can't spend our time hunting down some rabid cougar."

"They said the body was found on the Red Rock Trail. We could start there," he said.

"Absolutely not. It's too dangerous."

"Please."

"No."

Regina couldn't believe she was doing this. The truck was at the mechanic's until the next morning, and she was following Henry and Hank down the Red Rock Trail. She had to admit it was a gorgeous place, with the trail running along a shallow bluff line of sandstone. Rolling hills of grass and stone rose up around them, but the trail itself was relatively flat. Hank was having a good time, stopping to sniff every few seconds. He was wagging his tail as if he had never been for a walk before, but then again, he probably hadn't. Regina was hoping they would simply have a nice and hopefully brief stroll and be back at their motel before sunset.

It was still early evening, but the sky was starting to turn a pale orange as the sun drooped. The moon was out already. It was always a strange sight to see it while it was still daylight. It looked full, as well, but not as bright as it would be in a few hours.

Henry seemed pretty relaxed, too, given that they were on a stake out for either a rabid animal or a terrifying monster. He was a weird kid, to be honest. And she didn't mean that in any way as an insult. She herself was far too strange to point fingers at anyone else, but she didn't think many ten year olds would be this calm on a murder mission. Or suicide mission. Depending on how things went.

Still, things had been quiet so far. They had seen some pronghorns, a hare, and a jogger or two, but that was it.

"Maybe we need a better view," said Henry, putting his hands on his hips as he observed one of the bluffs.

"That's pretty steep, kid."

"You can fly."

"But you can't. And I'm not leaving you down here alone."

Henry said nothing but opened his eyes a little wider, almost pleading. He could give Hank a run for his money with that puppy dog face.

"Fine," she said. She picked up Hank and placed him over her shoulders like a giant fox fur shawl. He had to be the most passive dog in the world, and simply licked her face before settling down.

"You go first and I'll be behind you to catch you," she said.

It was sloped and rocky enough that they were able to climb and crawl their way up. It certainly wasn't the most intense rock climbing she had ever done, but with a dog to carry and a child to keep an eye on, it also wasn't the easiest. The rocks were made of a grainy sandstone, which wasn't sharp enough to cut, but did leave Henry's palms a little scratched up. He didn't complain, though, and even seemed quite proud of the marks once they had reached the top. They couldn't be more than 20 feet off the ground, but it did give them a better vantage point of the trail and the surrounding area. Regina had to admit that the view was stunning, as well, showing a vast orange sky and dramatic shadows on the rock formations from the setting sun.

"Isn't that the waitress from the diner?" Henry asked, pointing.

It was. Regina hadn't paid her too much attention during breakfast, writing her off as the typical small town girl with big town dreams, dying to get out of small town, New Mexico. She was young and pretty, with red streaks in her hair, a big smile, and big teeth. She had changed out of her waitress uniform and was jogging down the path in tights and a red hoodie. Behind her, a second jogger was catching up to her, this one a man, also wearing a hoodie, but with the hood up so they couldn't see his face. Henry leaned over the edge of the bluff to get a better look at them and Regina had to grab him by his collar and pull him back.

"Hey, hey wait up," the man said. He sounded a little out of breath. The waitress didn't seem to notice him, so he called out to her again. This time she pulled earbuds out of her ears and stopped to hear him.

"Yeah?" she said.

Henry had grabbed Regina's arm so hard that his knuckles turned white.

"You have to help her. I think that's him," he hissed through clenched teeth. The man seemed like just a typical sleeze to Regina, but she had learned the hard way not to underestimate people. You never knew what was lurking beneath the surface.

Regina backed up a little on the rock and then jumped, turning smoothly into a black vulture in the air. She flew in a circle, slowly getting lower and closer to the two.

"I was just thinking you could use some company, you know. It could be dangerous for such a beautiful girl to be out here all alone," the man was saying.

"No, thank you," said the waitress. She put her headphones back in and started to turn away from the man.

"Hey, I wasn't done talking to you!" he snapped, grabbing her elbow and yanking her back to face him. Regina tilted forward to swoop down on the man, but before she could, the waitress had backhanded him and knocked him to the ground. Regina pulled up quickly, and flew back around to see them. The man was still lying on the ground, clutching his face. Regina could see and smell blood leaking from beneath his hands. When he pulled his hands away for a moment, she saw that he had three deep gashes across his cheek and mouth. He began to scream in pain while the waitress stood still and calm over him. Regina landed on one of the low rock outcroppings of the bluff so she could see the scene better.

The waitress was definitely a cryptid. Her eyes were glowing yellow and her fingers had turned into monstrous looking claws. She was completely focused on the man, tensed and waiting like a cat with a baby bird. Then she moved toward him, falling forward onto her front arms, which weren't arms anymore at all, but the front legs of a huge wolf. The man's screams turned from ones of pain to fear when he saw the wolf. Regina could barely hear Henry shouting at her stop the wolf over the sound of the man. She sighed - well, as best as a vulture could sigh - and flew over the wolf. She scratched her talons against the its shoulder, breaking its focus from the man. She turned back into human form and dropped onto the ground. In her vampire form, she could see the intricate pattern of the man's veins and arteries underneath his skin, and the blood dripping out of his wounds seemed to glow with a white hot light. All the other details of the area dulled, as if she were wearing dark sunglasses, but the circulatory system of each living thing showed up in vivid color and light to her. There was a horrible hissing sound in her ears that she knew was coming from herself. She hoped Henry couldn't see her face from where he sat. She knew it was horrible when she got like this. Her teeth grew long and fanged and her features became sunken and gaunt. She wanted to spare him from the sight of her vampire face for now.

The wolf shook itself off and faced Regina, snarling and showing its teeth. It lunged for her, but she managed to jump aside. The wolf was thrown off balance, so Regina took the opportunity and slammed into it, throwing it backward and causing it to land heavily on its side. She ran over and grabbed the still screaming man, pulling him to his feet.

"Get out of here," she hissed, and he took off running in the direction he had come from, as fast as he could.

The wolf stood, holding one of its legs gingerly, as if it was injured. Regina ran forward and knocked it down again, and punched it squarely in the head. She turned back into a vulture and flew up to Henry, who was leaning out over the bluff to get a better view of the fight. Once she was back in human form, she grabbed him around the waist and pulled him away from the edge. He looked at her in amazement and reached up to touch her face, but she gently slapped his hand away. She could still see all his veins and his heart pumping, so she took a few deep breaths until her vision returned to normal. The hissing sound stopped. So much for hiding her face, but he didn't seem too scarred for life.

"I think we'd better go," Regina said. She took his hand and Hank's leash and together they began to run along the top of the bluff line. Below them, the wolf was back on its feet and running on the trail, chasing them from 20 feet below. It seemed to be looking for a place that had a gentle enough slope for it to scale the bluff and reach them. Regina turned away from the edge of the bluff and led them into the pine forest. Behind them, they could hear the wolf howling in anger at their escape.

It took them hours to walk back to the motel, especially given the circular route they took to avoid the wolf. The sun had long since set, leaving only the bright round moon to illuminate the forest and then the empty roads. They arrived with Henry and Hank a little scratched up and Regina pulling pine needles out of her hair. The motel was small, cheap, and dingy, but after their day, it was as good as the Hilton.

"Let's get the hell out of here as soon as we can," Regina said, already starting to drift off. After a moment's pause, she corrected herself and said, "Don't say hell."

The next morning, the truck was mended, with a new break line or carburetor, or some shit - Regina didn't pay that close of attention to what Billy the mechanic had said - and she and Henry were quick to drive out of town. They passed Granny's Diner on the way out, which looked like it was closed and deserted. Regina stepped on the gas pedal, so they zoomed past it and continued on their way south.

Emma Swan was utterly dreading the endless paperwork that she was going to have to do, trying to explain this clusterfuck. It was a cruel paradox that the most interesting and complicated cases always led to the most boring and time consuming paperwork. She and Graham had followed the missing boy's scent all the way down to New Mexico. Instead of finding him and the creature that had stolen him, however, they found themselves caught up in the case of a feral werewolf. One hiker was dead, ripped to pieces, and another one injured and traumatized.

The werewolf had been easy to find at least. She was reckless, wild, and completely out of control. They cornered her on the edge of a natural park, finding her snarling and angry. She had lunged at Graham, but Emma shot her with a tranquilizer dart before she was within ten feet of him. She growled and staggered for a minute before falling down asleep. The wolf form quickly shifted back into that of a young woman with long brown and red hair. Emma had put silver handcuffs on her and loaded her into the car. But Graham had yet another werewolf to track down.

This one they found in a small white house on the southeastern outskirts of the town.

"Ms. Lucas?" Emma asked when the old woman answered the door. She had gotten the name from the painted mailbox in front of the house.

"Yes?" the woman said, looking suspiciously at Emma. Graham was back in human form, but as soon as Ms. Lucas saw him, her eyes widened in recognition.

"Where is she?" Ms. Lucas said, not needing to specify who she was talking about.

"Who is she to you?" asked Graham.

"My granddaughter. If you hurt her -" she began.

"Your granddaughter is fine. Unharmed, at least. May we come inside?" he asked.

The old woman opened the door a little wider and stood somewhat grudgingly to the side. Graham and Emma went into the living room and sat on a floral patterned sofa. Ms. Lucas took a seat across from them in a little armchair.

"Ma'am, my name is Agent Humbert and this is Agent Swan. We work for the B.C.C."

"And what does the Bureau want with my granddaughter?" Ms. Lucas asked through clenched teeth.

"Do you know where she was two nights ago at 7 pm?" asked Graham.

Ms. Lucas didn't answer, but shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

"Because we think she was disemboweling a hiker at that time," said Emma. That got a glare from Ms. Lucas, but she still said nothing.

"She has to be what - twenty three, twenty four? And she is acting as careless as if she were just bitten. But she was born a werewolf, wasn't she? So why doesn't she have better control?" Graham asked, his voice raising a little. He didn't like the violent reputation that his species had and he didn't like the werewolves that perpetuated it.

"I-" Ms. Lucas' voice cracked a little and she took a deep breath before trying again, "I just didn't want her to be a part of this life. I thought I could save her from it, so I went to a witch doctor and she gave me some enchanted tea. It kept Ruby from changing, even around the full moon, and dulled her wolf senses, but lately I think the magic has been wearing off."

Graham leaned back in the sofa and rubbed his eyes.

"Did she know that the tea would keep her from changing?" Emma asked.

"No, she didn't even…" Ms. Lucas trailed off.

"She didn't even know she was a werewolf," Graham finished for her.

"I thought I could protect her and everyone else from this curse." As she said it, Ms. Lucas rubbed a spot on her left forearm through her sleeve. "What's going to happen to her?"

"We're going to take her to a rehabilitation facility. If she works hard and gains control of herself, then she will be released back into the public. Now, I'm afraid you're going to have to come with us, as well," said Graham. He stood and pulled out a second pair of silver handcuffs. The old woman nodded, looking resigned, and came with them without a fight. They put her in the backseat with her unconscious granddaughter.

"We'll drop them off in Tombstone and then get back to our murderer kidnapper," Graham said.

Emma didn't like the thought of leaving that little boy with whatever had burned down the house in Wyoming, but she also knew they couldn't pursue them with two werewolves in the back seat. The kid would just have to hang on for a few more days.