Nick’s tiny key works its magic, and the lock clicks.
“Do you think he’ll come back?” I ask.
“He might. I doubt he was expecting to get caught tonight.”
We walk into a bright living room. Either the guy was planning to come back soon, or he was okay with paying a very large electricity bill.
Two bodies, both male and sporting deep claw marks on their abdomens, lie in the middle.
“I’m getting a faint whiff of some weird chemical stuff,” Nick loudly sniffs.
I quietly close the door behind me. “Yeah, me too.” I crouch down in front of the men. It’s difficult to get much over the blood.
Nick moves around the apartment, already gloved up.
“I’ll call in Marcus and Sloan,” I announce, receiving a distracted “Alright” from the bedroom.
Marcus, a registered medical examiner, Bureau agent, and prominent member of the ‘Let’s Give Matt Shit’ club, shows up within fifteen minutes. I open the door when I hear his steps, heavy and rushed.
“I expect this from Nick, but now you’re getting me bodies too?” Marcus looks tired and recently showered, his hair still wet. “I just spent seven hours crouched over a corpse, you know.” But he’s already putting on gloves as he complains.
“And now you have two more,” I say cheerfully. I’ve heard enthusiasm can make boring tasks fun.
Marcus gives me a side-eye. The motivation technique clearly doesn’t work. Or maybe Marcus, who looks like he hasn’t seen a bed other than the ones occupied by dead people in the last forty-eight hours, isn't the best test subject.
“They might have been drugged before they were stabbed,” Marcus leans over the bodies. “I’ll know more after getting some tests done. You called Meena yet?”
“Yeah, she should be here soon,” I tell him from the cornerof the room, not wanting to destroy any evidence. As a firefighter working for the Bureau, my work is more tramping over evidence (only if we suspect werewolf involvement, and I have to fill out exhaustive reports every time), not preserving and observing.
By the time Sloan, LAPD’s Crime Scene Photographer and another member of Nick’s ‘We Should Hang Out with Other Werewolves More’ group, arrives, Nick has finished his initial inspection.
“I found unlabelled vials and injections, all empty. I’ve bagged a few to trace fingerprints,” he informs us.
Sloan gets to work right away. “So how did you notice the bodies, Matt?” she asks after she’s done taking pictures.
Nick smirks. “His human saw Dalton running away.”
I roll my eyes.
“Oh, is Oliver alright?” Sloan asks, concerned.
“How the fuck…? You know what? I don’t even want to know. He’s fine. Just a little spooked,” I say.
“Well, good thing he has his big bad wolf to protect him,” she grins.
I glare at her. At six feet, she’s not all that much shorter than me. But that wasn’t the concerning thing about her statement!
“He doesn’t have a big bad wolf, and I’m a nice person,” I retort. “...Sometimes.”
She laughs. “You’re going to report it to Meena?” she asks, suddenly serious.
“I kinda have to, don’t I?” I gesture towards the bodies.
Nick pats my arms lightly. “Don’t worry, they’ll just observe him for some time. He won’t even know,” he says hesitantly.
I turn to look at him, but the pity in his eyes is too much.So, I turn to Sloan instead. “Don’t you have work to do?”
“Shit, right!” She pats my other arm and goes to the kitchen.
