Title: Power Play
Rating: R
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Universe: Creatures of the Night (Part 1)
Pairing: Morgan/Prentiss; JJ/Hotch
Genre: Supernatural/Drama
Summary: Tensions are running high when a vampire joins the BAU, but all differences must be put aside as the team investigate a series of suspicious werewolf murders. AU.
Author's Notes: Betaed by Windy City Dreamer.

Chapter Nine

Hotch watches as Rossi and Prentiss make their way down the slope towards the treeline. He knows for a fact that two others are looking in the same direction. One of them is Andrew Lyman. The other is Derek Morgan. It makes sense that they be so uncomfortable at having a vampire encroach upon their territory. Lord knows that Hotch feels the same way.

It's a problem that can't be helped. Differences aside, some skills are unique to the vampire. Imitations just don't cut it anymore.

'Forgive me,' says Lyman, turning his attention back towards the remaining FBI agents. 'It's not often that vamps come here. Most of the clans house themselves on the other side of town.'

Hotch grimaces. 'I know,' he says. A memory flashes through his mind. There's blood. So much blood. His blood. JJ gives him a sideways look. He knows that she can sense the doubt that has been so prevalent in his thoughts of late. That's not to mention the anger, the frustration.

'He got in through a hole in the fence. Probably from either a blast of magic or someone with godlike strength. That thing is built to withstand a pack of 'wolves in their shifted form. It's not as easy as getting a bodybuilder to hit it with a sledgehammer.'

When he's not the alpha of the pack, Andrew Lyman is a federal prosecutor for the Department of Justice. He knows how this works, even if he isn't on the "crime prevention" end of the spectrum.

'I have to go now. Dhampir murdered and exsanguinated one of his neighbors. We're looking to defang.' Lyman then leaves the team with his second-in-command, a surly looking man by the name of Alan, who looks as though he could snap a tree in half with his fingers. Something tells Hotch that this man hadn't been picked for his brains.

JJ kneels beside him, fingers touching the grass. She's checking for residual psychic energy. Anything that happens leaves an imprint. Magic, but a different type of magic.

'Something bad happened here,' is all she says. There isn't much detail to these residual energy checks. Nothing concrete enough to determine the identity of the killer. It's usually used in determining the motives of the death, rather than the specific circumstances. Hotch can see Alan shifting in disdain; after all, it's fairly obvious that something bad happened. JJ can apparently sense that too, because she rephrases almost immediately. 'I can feel this…darkness. As though whoever did this was…' She hesitates. 'Evil.' With all the things in the world - all the deadly, dangerous and horrific things – evil is not a word that's thrown around lightly. Admittedly, though, it's thrown around in their profession much more than anywhere else.

It's not much to go on, but it's something. It adds to the profile. Probably not enough to assuage the distrust of the pack members, but then, most of them don't know how profiling works. Most of them just want to find out who killed their pack member, and tear him (or her) to pieces.

'What do you think?' asks Morgan, eyes fixated on the spot where the body once was.

'There's not much to go on,' says Hotch truthfully. All of the things that are coming to light aren't exactly surprising. There's nothing out of the ordinary, nothing case-breaking. And that's the same with any case. If someone could just waltz up, and determine immediately who the killer is, they'd be out of a job. Even the most proficient of psychics aren't that good. 'But victimology will probably be able to help with that.'

'Providing this isn't a hate crime, or just random killings,' points out JJ, accepting Hotch's hand as he helps her up.

'It probably isn't,' supplies Reid. 'There isn't enough publicity. Someone looking to inject fear into the werewolf population would most certainly make sure that the deaths were linked. Beyond the same M.O, this killer isn't going to any particular lengths to be recognized.'

Hotch nods. It all begs the question: is there something else going on? Is their unsub killing for their own disturbed reasons, or is there something else? Something more sinister. It's not unheard of. People who think that just because they can spin a spell or two, they're in a prime position to take over the world. Those are the people who ensure that working for the BAU is so much more than just a job. It's a life. A concept that's made even more macabre when the mortality rate is taken into consideration.

'Can you take us to the point of entry?' Hotch asks the second-in-command, who replies with an incomprehensible grunt.

Never before had he appreciated what 'wolves did on a full moon night as much as he does right now. The Sanctuary is huge. Acres and acres of enclosed wilderness; enough to let the pack roam without feeling claustrophobic, and without incurring any non-shifter casualties. It takes them almost twenty minutes to reach the western fence line, and even then, there's still a fair way to go before the northern boundaries, where the fence is the only thing separating the Sanctuary from the real wilderness.

Rossi and Prentiss meet them there a few minutes later, Prentiss looking a little worse for wear. The sun is having a detrimental effect on her, and Hotch makes a mental note to bring it up later.

'Anything?' he asks.

Rossi shakes his head. 'No sign of tracks, physical or otherwise.'

Prentiss brushes a hand against the hole, conveniently positioned under the shade of a large oak. Aside from the debris that litters the ground, there are no effects on the surrounding area.

'Could you do it?' Hotch asks abruptly, and Prentiss jerks her head up.

'What?' she says, almost dumbfounded.

'Could you punch a hole in a wall like that?'

She hesitates, as if she's not sure she really wants to answer the question. 'Hypothetically speaking,' adds Hotch, and that seems to ease her discomfort some slight amount.

'Maybe. At night. If I were at full strength. Be sore for hours afterwards though.' She shrugs, as if trying to make it seem a little less than it really is. But Hotch knows what it takes to bring a vampire up to full strength. He's been a part of that ritual. He resists the urge to rub his scarring. And if the rumors from previous Unit Chiefs are correct, then this particular vampire will never be up to full strength. It's animal or nothing, in spite of the multitude of human donors just clamoring for a chance at one night with a vampire.

'We can't jump to conclusions,' Rossi says, as if he might have thought that Hotch was insinuating something. He doesn't think that though. Rossi knows Hotch far too well to make that kind of mistake. What he is doing is assuring Prentiss that they aren't jumping to conclusions. She gives another shrug.

'God knows a lot of them are self-important enough to do it just for kicks,' is all she says.

Hotch agrees vehemently, but it isn't the objective path to take.

That doesn't mean that they'll rule it out entirely.