"Uh… where are you going?" Liam asked, as he watched his brother drop down onto the bed to pull on a pair of black boots.

"To a bar. Figured I could hustle some pool and ask some questions while I was at it."

"Maybe get laid too," Liam suggested, because that was his brother's usual

MO.

"If it happens it happens," Killian agreed, shrugging his shoulders. "But don't worry, little brother. I won't bring her back here if I do."

Liam sighed as he resigned himself to a another night alone in a seedy motel. When they were younger, and his brother had been old enough to pass for at least twenty-one, Killian had snuck his way into bars to pick up women who didn't much care about his age. Liam would spend most of his nights in a crappy motel room alone, attempting to do homework that he knew he'd never get a chance to hand in, while their father hunted. It was exactly why he'd escaped the lifestyle as soon as he could, and if he were being completely honest with himself, Liam knew it was probably why Killian still enjoyed it as much as he did. His brother had always loved the freedom that came with a life on the road.

"Don't wait up," Killian called out, grabbing his jacket from the back of one of the chairs as he leaned over to clap his brother firmly on the shoulder. He was gone before Liam even had a chance to utter a reply.

The moment Killian pulled into the parking lot of the nearest bar he could feel it. That prickling sensation across the back of his neck that told him he was being watched had returned again.

A quick scan of the lot showed a few people in the area, but none of them seemed to be paying much attention to him, so Killian tried to shake off his unease as he carefully climbed out of his car. That feeling followed him with every step he took towards the entrance, but once he was inside, it completely disappeared as he lost himself amongst the crowd.

Killian made himself comfortable at the bar with a bottle of beer as he took some time to watch the people milling around inside of the space. As he'd expected, the crowd didn't exactly look to be the most respectable in town. Which meant if he gave them long enough to get a few more drinks in their systems, he might be able to pry some sort of useful information out of one of them.

When he was finished with his first drink, Killian ordered another and then headed for the pool table at the back of the room. It had been surrounded by a small group of men ever since he'd arrived, and they looked to be the easiest marks thanks to the numerous empty pitchers around their table.

"Do any of you guys fancy a little wager?" he asked, pulling a wad of cash from his pocket to hold up for them to see.

The men gathered around the pool table shared a long look with each other before they nodded their agreement.

"Twenty bucks on the first round? Winner takes all?" Killian pulled the bill free from the wad and slapped it down on the edge of the table as one of the men stepped forward to do the same thing.

"You're on," the other guy agreed, already reaching out to rack the balls.

"So, d'you hear about that priest who went psycho and killed a load of people in town?" Killian asked, as he bent forward to line up his shot.

"Don't think there's anyone around here who didn't," Marcus scoffed. "Sick fucker."

"Everyone seemed so shocked by it too."

Marcus and his friends shared a look that said they'd also been shocked by the news, but didn't offer up any reasons why.

"I wonder what has to happen to make a guy snap like that?" Killian mused.

"The paper's said it was some kind of mental break. But… I dunno."

"You don't believe them?"

"Guy was fifty-four and lived in town all his life. Surely if he'd had mental health issues we'd have seen signs of this before?" Marcus explained. "Something about all of this stinks."

"I feel ya there," Killian agreed, as he sunk the black ball in the top corner pocket. "You kinda stink at this game too, Marcus. Pay up!"

The other man didn't look terribly happy about the extra twenty dollars he'd just lost, but he did smirk a little at Killian's bad joke as he handed over his cash.

By the time Killian left the bar that evening he was three hundred dollars up, and still had a clear enough mind to drive himself back to his motel. So he was taking that as a win.

Unfortunately, none of the people he'd spoken with seemed to have any kind of information that would be useful for their case. And none of them could recall seeing his father around town either. Which left him in exactly the same place as he'd been when he'd first entered the building.

He'd only taken two steps out of the door when that familiar prickle across the back of his neck returned, telling him that he was being watched. Killian briefly considered calling out to confront whoever it was. The alcohol in his system wasn't enough to impair his senses, but it was giving him a taste of that buzz that usually came right before a big fight. Thankfully, he stopped himself from doing anything reckless before he could even open his mouth. There were far too many innocent civilians inside the bar that could get caught up in the crossfire, and that was the last thing Killian wanted.

So he lowered his head and continued making his way over to where he had parked his car.

"You're asking the wrong questions in the wrong places."

Killian froze at the sound of a voice from somewhere to his left, and narrowed his eyes as he tried to find the source of it amongst the shadows there.

"Oh, yeah? What questions should I be asking, and where?"

"I can't tell you that," she replied, stepping out of the darkness to finally put herself in his line of sight.

Killian blinked a few times just to be sure that his eyes weren't betraying him. To anyone else, the woman stood on the outskirts of the parking lot would probably come across as nothing more than average. But Killian knew better. He knew that behind the long, dark hair that fell around her shoulders in soft waves, and the dark-wash jeans and black, leather jacket that she was wearing, there was something decidedly extraordinary about her.

"Then can you at least tell me who you are? Or what you are?" he asked instead, starting in her direction.

"There's only one person in this town who can tell you what really happened that day," she replied, before taking a step back into the shadows.

That feeling of being watched was gone almost instantly, leaving Killian stood in the middle of the parking lot with more questions than he'd had before the woman had shown herself.

Thanks for reading and reviewing.