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 Twenty-Four

Several hours later, they stand at the other side of the two-way mirror, looking into the interrogation room. The man sitting at the table, his wrists cuffed, a spell band hastily imprinted on his forearm, does not look like a killer. He'd woken up not long ago, after transfusion of cow's blood sped up the healing process.

Getting the chance to actually look at him shows a small-built man, kind of scrawny, in Morgan's opinion. There's something in his eyes that makes him seem as though he's drunk on human blood, even though he hasn't seen a drop in over twelve hours.

'This is it?' he asks, stunned. 'This is the guy that's been killing wolves all over the country?' He had been expecting something…more.

'It's not him,' says Emily bluntly. 'There's no way he could have done this.' She's standing a little steadier now, and he figures that this rapid healing is probably a big reason why most vampires live upwards of five-hundred years.

Garcia's flitting about, never landing in one place for more than thirty seconds. She raises a tiny eyebrow. 'Don't be ashamed just because he got the drop on you, sweet cheeks.'

If Emily's embarrassed by the insinuation, she doesn't show it. 'No, seriously. The guy's been a vampire for less than ten years. There is no way in hell he could have killed thirteen shifters with no struggle, not even with magic.'

'But why would he try and kill you then?' asks Garcia landing, for the first time, on the vampire's shoulder. Emily doesn't seem perturbed by the passenger.

'I don't know,' she says. 'But that's what we're going to find out.'

***

Emily shoots a glance at Morgan, and he lets her take the lead. Whatever his problem is, she'll deal with later. After all, this is vampire politics. This is her life, as much as she loathes it.

William LaMontagne Junior fiddles absent-mindedly with the metal cuffs that encircle his wrist. He doesn't look nervous, or anxious. If anything, he looks bored.

Morgan's stands in the corner, making his presence known, but not intruding on Emily's ground. She gives him a grateful smile for not arguing, and slides into the chair opposite LaMontagne.

'So…William. Will. You've been a vampire for what, six years?' she asks conversationally. It surprises both Morgan and LaMontagne. She guesses she's supposed to be feeling some kind of anger at this guy for trying to kill her, but she doesn't. If she kept going on those principles, then there'd be a lot of anger bottled up in side of her.

'About that,' he says, in an accent that puts his place of birth at somewhere near Bloodfern. 'My daddy and I got ambushed one night. They killed him, turned me.' The ease with which he gives away information only confirms their beliefs.

'And yet you decided to work for them?' A little less friendly now, a little more accusing. Even then, it's not anger, it's just the job.

He makes an indignant sound. 'I don't work for anybody but myself.'

'Is that right? Tell me, Will. Have you ever killed someone?'

She can see him struggling with the question. As if he knows the answer he's supposed to be giving, and yet can't quite work out how he's supposed to say it.

'Fourteen lycanthropes have died over the past year. Last night, you tried to kill us at the most recent crime scene. Makes me wonder; do you know anything about these dead wolves?'

'…Yes,' he says, averting his gaze from the intense stares of both Morgan and Emily.

'Did you kill them?'

'Yes.' It's a dull, monotone voice. No expression to it. As if he's only repeating what he's been told to repeat.

There's a moment of silence, before Emily says, 'I don't believe you.'

'You don't believe me?' he says, laughing slightly. 'Well I'm sorry if the answer wasn't quite what you were expecting, chere, but it's the truth.'

Emily grins, revealing small fangs that are somehow incredibly intimidating nonetheless. 'Oh, no, I don't think it is the truth. Because, Will, when you kill someone, you change. You get this look in your eyes. You see the world differently. In the past six years, I don't think you've changed at all.'

He opens his mouth, as if to protest, but she cuts him off. 'You work for the people that turned you? Who are they?'

'I work for myself,' he repeats.

'No you don't. You're nothing more than a lackey. You never get to make the kills. You hang around and wait for the leftovers. They want someone to attack two FBI agents, and you figure "Hey, why not," because the two hundred years of prison is nothing compared to the respect they'll give you when you finally get out. A small price to pay for power. After all, what's two hundred years when you live forever?'

'I killed them myself,' he repeats.

'You've never killed anyone before in your life, Will.'

'I have,' he says defensively.

'Oh really? Then you can tell me what it's like to tear the flesh from a body? You can tell me what it's like to listen to the heart slowly beat down to nothing? You can tell me the satisfaction you feel when you drink the blood of something you killed with your bare hands? The human body has five quarts of blood in it, Will. Do you know how long it takes to suck every. Last. Drop of that from a person?' She's standing now, one hand on the table. Her breaths are coming faster. There's a flash of red in her memory. A voice, screaming.

She holds it back.

The look on Will's face tells her everything he needs to know. He's the lowest of the low. Hasn't killed so much as a wild beast, let alone fourteen werewolves.

'Who are you working for?' she asks again, sitting with a practiced calm. 'There are five vampire clans in this city. Which one of them has you in its ranks?'

He mutters something that would be incomprehensible to human ears, but Emily hears it clear enough. She's just not sure she wants to have heard it.

'Say it again,' she demands, as if hoping that the information has changed in the few seconds since he has revealed it.

He says it louder this time, sullen eyes starting at her. 'Prentiss,' he spits.

'Fuck,' Emily mutters.

This is really going to suck.