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| Notes ▼ “Shut up and be quiet,” Captain Finnley Kestor barked at his men. He’d been standing at the front of the briefing room for the past ten minutes waiting for them to settle. They were angry and on edge. This was the second dead wolf. The first incident had been deemed natural causes. Heart attacks were rare but not entirely unheard of, especially in those who partook in certain vices. However, the second body was discovered less than a week later in a back alley of the Quad and could not be so easily swept away; wolfbane and mercury poisoning, and knife wounds to the neck and chest. It was a savage way to go. The death of Barrow had spurred the coroner to re-examine Kisp’s remains. The toxicology report had found traces of aconite root – wolfsbane. There was a killer loose in his city and they were targeting his wolves. Barrow and Kisp were known to each other. In fact they had served in the same troop during their training, which was sure to be more than just a coincidence. It raised the possibility that the rest of that troop were at risk. Kestor drew his fingers to his lips and whistled loudly to silence the room. “I know you’re itching for a fight. To take this to the scum who’s targeted our brothers, however, at this stage we don’t know what we're up against,” he said. “The method of each kill suggests we’re looking at a species with inferior strength.” A rumble of discontent rippled through the men. “Even so,” Kestor continued, rubbing his hand along his short, neat beard, “It’s clear… whoever they are… they shouldn’t be underestimated. Until further notice no wolf is to walk the city solo. The patrols, which will double as of tonight, are to be conducted in pairs.” “What about the investigation?” one of the men questioned. “Do you have any suspects?” “Not yet, though we’re bringing in the local healers for questioning.” “The humans?” another sneered. It was unlikely that a Vampire would venture into this part of the city just to take out two low-tiered grunts, and another wolf would simply rip out their throats. There was minimal damage to both bodies, no defensive wounds, which suggested they’d been taken by surprise, or the culprit knew what they were doing. Kestor had checked the wards this morning. None of them had been tripped, so magic was not in play, ruling out a rogue witch. That left the human population – which seemed absurd. Neither wolf was small. Each man towered over the average human and outweighed them by more than a hundred pounds. Yet, he was running out of plausible possibilities. “Yes. The healers have access to herbs that can incapacitate a grown wolf, and some are even fatal in high quantities. At this stage, it’s just an avenue we’re considering. It’s too early to speculate more than that, and any retaliation on the human population will be met with a swift response… Do I make myself clear?” It was a rhetorical question, but the wolves nodded their heads in compliance. “I will be leading the patrol this evening. Your assigned pairs and the rotation are detailed on the board. I’ll see you out there!” Kestor adjusted his tactical belt, fingering the iron cuffs and steel blades. He was confident he could take down most opponents using his hand-to-hand training, however, if there was someone running around with silver, he needed to be careful. The blast vest would offer some protection, but not much. He’d opted for a dark, short-sleeved shirt. It would help hide him in the shadows as he stalked the streets tonight. Despite the winter temperature he wasn’t cold. His Lycan blood ran hot, and a faint sheen coated his umber skin. He tied his dreadlocks in his signature man-bun before heading out. It was a bone of contention with his superiors, but it made his hair easier to manage on assignments. “Ready?” he asked his partner. Connor had come through the ranks with him. A seasoned hand that he trusted with his life. They headed through the door and out into the city. “You really think they’re out here?” Connor questioned. “The city seems to have gone mad. It’s a powder keg, waiting to explode. It’s just a question of which quarter goes up first.” “Surely, the humans wouldn’t be so stupid.” They walked briskly towards the city’s epicentre. This side of the quarter the streets were clean and in good condition, but Kestor knew that closer to the human sector the buildings were in various levels of decay. He’d seen the graffiti along the canal walls; ‘Welcome to the age of the new revolution!’ written in bright, sprawling letters. The city was on a knifes edge. “It’s surprising the level of stupid, people will stoop to when their desperate,” he quipped. “Very little surprises me these days. Every weak species evolves to survive, why would humans be any different.” “We should raise a glass for the damned later on. Those wolves deserved honourable deaths, not cutdown by some coward,” Connor muttered. “Taking on a wolf is no mean feat, we both know that. Is it cowardice to level the playing field?” “You almost sound impressed…” “Nah… Like I said, it’s just that little surprises me these days. And this has me scratching my head.” We continued on, checking the deserted alleyways and shop doorways and moving the occasional vagrant on as we went. Nothing seemed out of place. The night was quiet. The deaths had cast a shadow over the population. Even the public houses and taverns lacked their usual raucous atmosphere. Our heads whipped towards the skyline as a shadow flittered overhead. “I guess we’re going up,” Kestor joked. “Ugh, I hate heights,” Conner grumbled. “Fine, you cut them off at the end of Parsons Avenue,” he pointed. Kestor ran parallel to the roof top until he reached another alleyway. He jumped and pulled against the ladder of a fire escape, scrambling up it before it had even fully descended. As he reached the top he caught sight of the shadowed figure again. He hauled his large frame over the parapet and took off at a fast pace in pursuit. They were quick. He’d give them that. He continued on, jumping across the gaps, and dodging the chimney stacks as he gave chase. “Hey! You! Stop!” he shouted. The hooded figure turned to look at him briefly, before ducking around a solar panel. Not even a pause. Kestor shook his head. “They’re heading towards the Quad,” he relayed to Connor through the two-way. “Hey! Stop! This is Captain Kestor. I’m ordering you to stop.” They took no notice and instead upped their pace. Kestor growled under his breath. This was fast becoming annoying. He matched they’re speed and continued on. At the junction of Main Street , he bared right. It was a risk, but he was sure his quarry was heading towards Farriers Parade. He lay in wait. Minutes ticked by until the shadowy figure tip-toed around the corner and straight into his trap. Kestor wrapped an arm around the prisoner, his bicep pulled tightly against their throat, while his other hand wrenched their arm behind them. “Hey Jackass. Can you ease up? You’re crushing my arm,” a feminine voice chastised. “You’re… You’re a girl… Human…” “Well, your powers of deduction are on point at least… Yes… dickhead… I’m a woman… Now let me go.” “Goddess, you have a mouth on you. Anyone ever tell you that? Name and designation,” he barked. “No… You’re the first,” she deadpanned. “Name…” he repeated firmly. “Wren… Wren Stevedore… Human… Apprentice farrier.” “And, what are you doing out this late, Wren? Shouldn’t you be tucked up at home?” “Interesting you assume I’m not a whore… or a thief. Maybe I’m on my way back from a satisfied buyer…” “Nah… I’d be able to smell that. There’s no mixed scents on you.” “Excuse me! That’s disgusting!” she groused, her face quickly turning a delightful shade of crimson. “That’s a total invasion of privacy. Keep your overly sensitive snout away from my scent!” She struggled against his grip. Stomping the heel of her boots down on his instep and digging her fingernails into his wrist. It was cute. Like a kitten swotting at its mother. Kestor couldn’t help the laugh that rumbled from his chest in response. “Are you laughing at me?” “Who? Me? I would never….” he smothered another laugh, “However, if you don’t stop this ‘ferocious’ attack on me, I am going to have to take you in just to cool you off. Assaulting an officer is a serious offence. Even the way you do it.” She huffed and went still, relaxing her grip, although she didn’t remove her hands from around his forearm. “You’re not trying to lull me into a false sense of security, are you?” “No… I’ll behave.” Kestor released her and stepped back. She turned towards him. Her hazel eyes scoured his face and drifted cautiously down his chest, across his shoulders and down to his feet. To his surprise he realised she was assessing him. She was pretty… for a human. Tousled, chestnut hair whipped around her jawline in the wind, and a scattering of freckles dusted her light complexion and ran across her delicate, upturned nose. She was at least a foot smaller than him and petite, though he knew her muscles were lean, he’d felt them as she’d fought against his restraint, just as he knew she worked for a living from the callouses on her hands. “So are you going to tell me why you're out, roaming the rooftops?” “I’m heading home. The roofs are safer than the streets at night, and it saves me using the stairs to reach the top floor.” “Ah, I see. And where is this home?” “Under our feet.” She tapped her foot to emphasise her point. “So, thank you and goodbye.” “Goodbye?” “Well, unless you really are going to use those cuffs on me?” “Oh, umm. No, that won’t be necessary. You can go. Goodnight, Ms Stevedore.” He watched her climb over the gable of the roof, and through one of the open windows, before he made his way to the far end of the roof and down a rickety fire escape that had definitely seen better days. “So, did you catch them?” Connor asked when Kestor joined him on the street below to continue their patrol. “Yeah, it turned out just to be a roof rat. She was heading home. Waste of time.” He glanced back toward the window and startled in surprise as he saw a shrouded figure peering out into the night, watching him as he disappeared down the street. Lyrics ▼ |
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