He has to report this back.
If this is what he thinks he this is, Demetri has to report this incident back and let the masters give him the green light. He knows what they will say - terminate the troublemaker and prevent discovery.
Sophia's descriptions fit the requirements, but to ascertain that this is a vampire attack, he will have to take a good look at the body first. His plan is to wait till midnight and with the facility at minimal staff, inspect the body and leave. Any remaining blood will have fully dried up, so he will have no trouble leaving without incident.
He picks up the phone, the call quickly passing through an Italian tele-operator and to the front desk. "Ciao, questa è la reception. Come posso aiutarti?" It's good to know that the voice on the other end isn't new, because he doesn't have the time to acquaint himself with a new one.
"Ciao, Mia. Informa i maestri che arriverò fra due giorni."
"Lo farò immediatamente. Non vedono l'ora di rivederti," she replies without losing a beat, and he picks up a black bag and stuffs them with the essentials, booking a taxi for the following day. The ticket is discreetly booked, and he checks his passport twice before entering the passenger name.
He does have over 12 hours to collect more intel on the situation, but the sun is out and shining, and that immediately dashes any plans he had of visiting the police station. The rest of the day is spent oscillating between reading and watching Netflix, the latter being one of the few human indulgences of this century he can actually enjoy. He is currently watching an episode of the first season of the Crown, having started the show only hours back, and some of the drama in the royal household is reminiscent of the one he comes from, Demetri smiling at the similarities between Mary of Teck and Caius.
A quick glance at the clock tells him that midnight is near, and he slinks out of the apartment complex and towards the parking lot, the car's engine quiet enough to not draw any spectators towards it. The drive towards Boston is uneventful and the building has the usual amount of people he expects would be on the graveyard shift.
He parks in good cover, taking care to not be noticed by any nearby cameras. Once the car is well hidden, he takes off for the morgue, using his senses to guide him to cold, sterile room filled with the dead.
A toe tag on the body outside informs him that this is Gemma Atherton's body - the same name he had heard through Sophia's phone. Silently lifting the sheet covering the unfortunate victim, he finds the signs of something similar to a vampire attack, yet the smell is something different. It intensifies as the moments pass and Demetri almost gags from a minute into his investigation.
It's clearly not a human, but the beast doesn't seem to be a vampire either. The neck of the victim has been torn far too much, and parts have been eaten away. The body's blood seems to have been drained, but apart from that there is flesh and bone that has been torn away too.
The smell is wolflike in nature, but not the same scent that cloaks the shapeshifters. It's more feral, more animal.
My visit to Volterra couldn't come at a better time.
The flight, like always, is uneventful and boring. He watches some inane movie as he mulls over the facts collected around this case, a part of him deeply frustrated at his inability to identify and track this creature. It is clear he has never come across them, but to not know what kind they are is a whole new form of frustration altogether.
Upon his arrival, Mia gives him a curt smile and hands him a note with Corin's name on top. He knows it's not a terrible matter of urgency if the tiny woman left a note instead of a voice call, so he stuffs it in his pocket and heads toward the throne room.
The Masters are busy in idle chatter, Aro giving him a beatific smile as he takes his place in the center of room, a bow accorded to each of the three men before he ungloves his hand, putting it forward for Aro to take.
His master completes his search, face cycling through a variety of emotions before he decides to speak. "Young Demetri, your thoughts never fail to intrigue me. Anything you wish to add in your report of the Cullens?"
"Nothing, master. The child has completed her turn to immortal and is fully vampire now, though it is unclear if the issue that plagues Nahuel's sisters persists with her as well."
"I don't suppose Carlisle would mind sending us his findings," Aro muses, Demetri covering his fingers once again. "There is much we have yet to learn about charming Renesmee's kind. But, to more pressing matters now," his expression changes, eyes darkening as he begins to pace about the chamber. "The threat that Demetri has discovered - this creature plaguing the city of Cambridge; are you certain the threat is not vampiric?"
"Absolutely, master. If it weren't for the bite marks and mutilation patterns, the smell certainly confirmed it." Whatever it is, he has never seen one in his existence.
"Wolflike, you say, dear Demetri?"
"Yes, Master." Hearing that makes Caius' countenance slips further into a scowl.
"Do you suppose it could be them, brother?" Marcus speaks, voicing what was clearly going on in Caius' mind because the recognition of that notion clearly makes the man angrier than before.
"We had wiped their filth off the face of the Earth!" He snaps. "I saw to it myself." Through all this, Demetri is well aware of protocol - let the brothers work it out, and do not leave until they bid you to do so. Usually it takes a few hours, maybe a day or two.
This time, they seem to take much longer.
"My dear Caius, it seems like all other options are void," Aro finally breaks the tension, a grim look upon the otherwise oddly cheerful man's face. "The account is proof that a Children of the Moon hunts with reckless abandon." The mention of the near-mythic lupines sends Caius into a greater ire than before, his eyes flashing as he tightens his grip upon the armrests of his throne. "I do not intend to lose my greatest tracker to a feral dog," Aro speaks after a pause, turning to him. "Take Felix, Jane and Alec with you - and bring back the creature's body when all is done. I want you to take on this assignment with great caution."
"Yes, Master." With a final bow to the trio, he leaves the chamber and prepares for his imminent departure, instructing Mia to make the necessary bookings as he heads off to instruct the others tasked with this, reading the note along the way.
The first to greet him is the Roman, his impish smile a welcome break from the dour proceeding he has just left. "I suppose you received Corin's reminder?" As Felix notes Demetri not stopping, the large man falls in stride and walks along with him.
"I'm afraid we have no time for that yet, Felix. The masters have tasked us with a mission - one that is fraught with a degree of uncertainty and danger not present in our previous ones."
"Could it possibly be worse than the Immortal Children?"
That he can't immediately say 'no' as an answer worries him a little.
TV straight up lies when it comes to private detectives.
First off, it's hard to sneak around and collect critical information when the entire town is on high alert because of two strange, horrific murders. Second, it's just hard to sneak around and collect information in general.
Massachusetts has rather finicky laws when it comes to release of information to journalists - well, she is a student journalist and works for the Harvard Crimson, but that doesn't make her any less of a journalist. She has the same editorial rights as journalists of any media house, only a lot less pull in the inner offices and circles. Currently, she's arguing over the phone with quite a fed-up receptionist, trying to find loopholes in a bunch of laws she isn't well versed with. But that doesn't pan out so well, so the plan shifts to the good old badgering and bribing people.
Her bag is packed for the mission - a couple of granola bars, a power bank, fully charged phone and laptop with their respective chargers, pepper spray and a pocket knife. She knows the latter two wouldn't be great help against any animal, but they will surely work on any human attacker. Ten days have passed since the incident, and there have been no further, but that just makes her even more wary.
The first stop is Gemma's ex-boyfriend.
He lives in Boston, and the two had an on-off relationship. She would often party with the man, after which they would promptly fight and sometimes make up. Given the frequency with which her friend hung out with him, it's as good a guess as any that he would be the last person to have seen her alive. He agrees to meet up at a nearby bagel place, and Sophia gets a table closer to the walls and away from prying ears and eyes.
"Jason." They shake hands, and he orders a six-shot espresso, wild-eyed and frizzy haired. She takes out a notebook and pen and he takes a swig of his drink, lightly slamming down his drink as an indication of readiness.
"Haven't slept properly since the news broke. I learnt through fucking Facebook, of all places."
"So you weren't there with her when that happened?"
"Okay, so I met this new girl on Tinder, and there had been no indication from Gemma from the past few weeks that anything could happen between us again, so I agreed to go on a date with her that night. Downtown Boston, we went to the theater, caught a movie, nothing happened as such between us. I come back, get drunk, message Gemma again - pretty sure I sent some sap crap like I how I really wanted her back and shit - she doesn't answer; I guess she was serious about the stability thing, just send her "friends still?" message and go to sleep. Next thing I know when I check my phone, there are condolences posted all over her fucking timeline. Fucking hell." A sip, then a look at her. "How did you find out?"
Her fingers curl tightly over the pen, the other hand clenched in a tight fist. "I was called to ID the body." At that, he grimaces, shaking his head.
"That must have been fucked up." She doesn't want to recount that anytime soon, so she simply shakes her head and silently counts to ten, willing her mind to stay on topic.
"Anyone you know that would have been with her that night? They found her near the forest edge, and that itself is dodgy because you know she's no fan of the wilderness."
"None. And I agree - that is super sketchy."
"No guy she told you about? I thought you guys were still friends."
"We are - or at least were. This was something she said she was still figuring out, and it would be better if this was her solo endeavour. Best I can tell you, scroll through her Facebook friend list, once you have the stomach to." They sit in silence for a few minutes after that, Sophia going over her notes and Jason putting on a pair of shades to hide his strained eyes. "They're sure it's an animal attack, Sophia - why the fuck are you doing this?"
"Something's off and I want to know what, and as corny and dumb as it sounds, I want closure."
"Permanent closure, that's what you're gonna get," he grumbles, gulping down the rest of the coffee. "Look, something rabid and ferocious mauled her, and I would prefer it that I know one less person who suffers that fate." She understands where he's coming from, but that does not make the situation any clearer for her.
"So you're gonna believe that a fucking crazy-ass animal mauled a woman at the edge of the forest so close to human civilisation that they would be spotted. That a woman who hates the wild would be there, alone."
"Humans can be just as rabid and ferocious as any feral animal, and it would be a mark of true foolhardiness rather than bravery if you were to choose to walk into their path. As for finding out what it is, leave it to law enforcement. You won't find out anything anyways if you die before that happens."
"Believe me," she sighs, stuffing her notebook and pen back in her bag, "I've had just the same thoughts before I started off on this."
He lifts his shades, looking at her with weariness and worry. "Then you're even crazier than I thought. I hope I see you later. Alive." With that he makes his exit, Sophia heading to her next destination - the police station.
While Boston PD has zero intentions to give her any answers, she hopes that the campus and town's police would have a little more inclination to share information with a community member. She walks the distance from the bagel place to the station, Crimson ID in the front pocket of her bag. She doesn't notice who she bumps shoulders with until they call out her name. "Demetri."
"Are you alright?"
"Shaken, yes. Mentally fucked up, for sure. Alright, nope." His dark eyes narrow, and she now notices that they are a peculiar shade of brown - a mix she quite cannot place.
"What are you doing here, then? Did they request you to come in?" He jabs a thumb at the station building. She shakes her head, adjusting the bag straps on her shoulders. "You have questions." She nods.
"I promised myself that I won't get killed in the process, but that doesn't mean I'm completely swearing off taking risks in order to find what took my friend, because it sure as fuck was not a wild animal. How on Earth could a police patrol miss an animal they were supposed to be on the lookout for? And my friend hates forests and would never willingly go to one alone."
"Your reasoning is sound, and I don't know enough about predatory animals to offer evidence to the contrary."
That's all well and good, but there is a small detail bugging her. "You went MIA for more than a week. What are you doing here now?"
"Mother called me back - family emergency. And I was passing by, going back to my apartment." Bullshit.
"And that path happens to go through a small path that leads to a police station? Don't lie to me, please."
"Fine," he relents. "I wanted to get to the bottom of this."
"But you don't have any connections to the either of the deceased, do you? As far as I know, you never knew Gemma."
"I knew Mason Dwyer." She doesn't know how true that is but she doesn't push further on it. If he had any ulterior motives regarding her, he had plenty of chances to carry them out by now.
"Okay. Where do we start?"
"There is a press conference that's about to happen soon - we can crash it."
Her face twists into a frown. "You don't work for the Crimson."
At that, he gives her a wicked smile. "But you do." Her mind quickly scrambles to find as to how he might possibly know that, before realising that the Crimson puts pictures of their editorial staff and journalists along with their names in the 'Who We Are' section. Great.
"All right then," she sighs, squaring her shoulders, "let's go crash a press conference."