So I wrote this all the way back in August, this isn't actually even a finished chapter but it's just about long enough to be called one. Halfway through this chapter I hit massive writers block and had college work to do so never finished it, I have about another 500 words of this written but I haven't uploaded that because it just won't have ended nicely. I'm finishing college in a few months so after that chapters should be more frequent, until I start college again and then I'll just die inside all over again. Anyway, enjoy this half of a chapter!

Sherlock's wolf had been right when it had spoken out as he had walked down Ealing Road to meet Lestrade, as just two days later the body of a young woman, only 17, had been found dead in a small ally between two of the houses on the street. According to newspapers there had been a struggle and the poor girl was covered in cuts and bruises, but the most disturbing thing about the murder was the way she had been killed, two deep puncher marks in the side of her neck where most of the blood had been drained, although not all had been removed as there was still a considerable amount at the scene, although not within the girls veins.

But Sherlock didn't get a call from Lestrade, that was, until two days after the fist killing when another body turned up, this time the girl was 16, but everything else matched. Although the call wasn't from Lestrade, it was from Donavon of all people.

"What?" Sherlock answered the phone with a sour tone as he read the caller ID.

"Polite as ever, Freak." Donavon replied in an equally sour tone.

"What do you want, I don't have time for idle chit chat?" Sherlock asked in a not too well hidden tone of irritation.

Donavon sighed and Sherlock was sure that she was checking she was alone. "Something's up with Lestrade, this new case we've got, he's been acting strange from the start." She sighed and waited for Sherlock to answer.

"What exactly do you mean by strange?" Sherlock questioned the sergeant.

"Ever since we got the call he's been... jumpy, I suppose is the right word, it's like he knows something that no one else does , but the bloody man won't tell us. And we have absolutely no leads, even by now we would have a few, even without your help. But when I suggested that there might be a pattern, and we might end up with another body in the morgue tonight, he pretty much shouted at me and told me I was an idiot." Donavon sighed and waited for Sherlock's verdict.

After a small pause Sherlock spoke. "Well for starters Sally, you are an idiot, oh don't be offended most people are. But for once I think you're right, Lestrade does sound out of character. I think I need to have a few words with him, I'll be at the Yard in 15 minutes." And Sherlock hung up the phone before Donavon could reply. He slipped his phone safely into his jacket and grabbed his coat and scarf, although he hardly felt the cold anymore wearing his coat and scarf had become an unbreakable habit. Calling out to Mrs Hudson so she wouldn't worry, Sherlock ran down the stairs and out the door.

Sherlock paid the cabbie and walked into New Scotland Yard, waiting for him at the door was Donavon, who looked less than happy to be getting help from Sherlock. He gave a fake smile as he walked over to her, he studied her, picking out any unusual deductions of which there were many. She really was genuinely worried about Lestrade and the direction the case was going, which for Donavon was strange to say the least.

"I tried talking to him again," Donavon started, her voice sincere and full of actual worry. "If I hadn't been in a room of people he would have shouted," She looked up at Sherlock, not condescending in the slightest. "What's going on?"

"I don't know." Sherlock answered honestly. "But I plan on finding out." Sherlock said and broke eye contact with Donavon, and walked towards the lift with her.

The lift was filled with silence as they approached the correct floor, when the doors finally opened they were greeted with a rather frantic room, filled with officers and sergeant making phone calls, going over evidence and just trying to make some sense out of the case.

"It's never like this, not when he's himself." Donavon sighed.

"He's in his office?" Sherlock questioned but it was more of a statement.

"Yes." She replied. Sherlock quickly weaved through the people and opened the door to Lestrade's office, making him jump and hide what he had been reading.

"Sherlock!" He almost shouted in his surprise. "Knock maybe?" He all but demanded.

"Just thought I'd pop in." He said idly and looked around the room with his hands in his pockets. "Find out why it was Donavon of all people that finally called me." He said and glared at Lestrade. "What were you reading!?" Now it was Sherlock's time to do some demanding. Lestrade sighed and lent back in his chair, he lifted up a paper folder from his knee and handed it to Sherlock who closed the distance between him and the desk and took a seat.

He took the folder from Lestrade and opened it, but he certainly wasn't expecting what he saw within it. "How did you..." he trailed off as he flicked through his file, containing everything about him, including that fact that he was hardly human anymore.

"I can get access to almost everyone's personal files under the right circumstances; I am a detective after all." He said and held out his hand expectantly, and then placed the folder in his desk draw when Sherlock handed it to him.

"And what circumstances would they be, exactly?" Sherlock all but spat.

"You're not the only person to get attack by an unregistered wolf." He glared with almost judging eyes.

Sherlock glared back as his mind jumped started into action, trying frantically to work out the best way to get out of this situation. "How many?" Play along like it's nothing, is the plan he ends up with.

Lestrade sighed again and lent back in his chair. "Twelve the same night as you, eight the month before." He sighed and rubbed his face in his hands.

"How d'you know all this?" Sherlock asked and eyed the detective.

"I used to be hunter," He replied simply. "then the council contacted me, said they could get me a job in the force, I used to work a lot more cases for them before I met you."

"But," Sherlock started. "Why didn't you call me?" He almost demanded, leaning forward and glaring at Lestrade.

Lestrade sighed out through his nose and rubbed in between his eyebrows. "Because Sherlock, the very same wolf that attack you, is a member of a gang made up of wolves and vamps, none of them, not one, are registered."

"And why exactly is that so significant?" Sherlock asked as he tilted his head.

"Because, the people they're attacking, turning, are going missing or turning up dead, lots of them. These people, whoever they are, are planning something, and now Sherlock, you're a part of that." Lestrade pressed.

"What? You don't trust me?" Sherlock glared, almost offended.

"Well, I don't know, you're the first to register. I guess you're no us to them now." Lestrade shrugged.

"Charming." Sherlock raised an eyebrow and lent back in his chair.

"Did Donavon really call you?" Lestrade almost laughed in disbelief.

"Yes, she did." Sherlock smirked and then giggled, Lestrade quickly joined in. Sherlock looked up as he heard someone waking up to the door of Lestrade's office.

"Boss?" Donavon asked as she walked into the room with a mobile pressed to her cheek, Lestrade nodded for her to continue. "Regents Park, found by a dog walker." She sighed.

"How old?" Lestrade asked, not really wanting an answer.

"16." Was Donavon's solemn answer.

"Looks like I do need your help Sherlock." Lestrade sighed.

Also please don't leave comments asking me to update more often, I love that you guys want to read this but I don't need more pressure from things that are supposed to be fun for me. Thanks xx