Of Watchers & Wolves- The Awakening

by Tiffany Foxe

  Well, that got me nowhere....different approach.

  “Did you hear about that murder in the alley there?”

  That got her attention. Sophie looked at Em.

  “Is that what they’re calling it? I didn’t realize.”

  “Did you know him? I mean, was he a customer?”

  “No,” Sam answered.

  “What you see is what you get.” He motioned at the five people sitting in the bar.

  This was odd. The woman wasn’t giving any inkling of being at the scene the night before, of being chased by a cop with a gun in hand, of anything.

  “If you’re done with your questions, Officer Zadok, oh, I mean Alice, I have some work to do. And, since I answered your questions here, I suppose I won’t be heading down to the police station to give a statement, anymore.”

  Fuck!

  Reynolds would fry her if he found out. Negatively affecting the case AND desk duty for not following orders.

  “How did...why didn’t you say something sooner?”

  “Why should I? You patrol this street don’t you?”

  She could have seen her while on patrol.

  That’s plausible. Still nothing to pin on this woman.

  “And it’s hard to forget being run down by someone with a gun and a badge.”

  Bingo! It definitely was her.

  She glanced up from her paperwork and looked at Zadok.

  “So, I looked you up.”

  “Why did you run?”

  “I was on my way home from work. I had just found him and was checking to see if he was okay, and you know how some cops can get trigger happy when pumped up. I wasn’t about to stick around and find out which kind of cop you were.”

  Em was livid at the implication of incompetence. She could feel her face grow hot.

  Thanks, a lot!

  “You should still come down and give a statement. You need to explain why you fled the scene of a crime and what you were doing there in the first place.”

  She couldn’t do much more than this at the moment. She wasn’t officially on the case, yet.

  “Later. Tonight,” Sophie acquiesced.

  She walked away and went back upstairs, continuing to plow through her paperwork.

  “Ready to pay your tab?” asked Sam.

  She nodded. He set a receipt on the counter.

  “Twenty bucks?!”

  He shrugged.

  “You said the cheapest.”

  She sighed.

  “We must have different definitions.”

  She grudgingly paid and left the bar. She mulled over her encounter as she made her way home. Sophie was different than a typical person of interest. Em didn't feel threatened or endangered. Actually, it was quite the opposite. Sophie was utterly charming without even trying to be. This left Em feeling exhilarated and completely foolish at the same time. Hardly things that a detective should be feeling about a person of interest. It was an annoyance that incessantly poked at her judgment during her dealings with this stranger.

  "This isn't me," she thought.

  This isn't who I am. I'm a professional.

  Yet, there she was, wanting to say things she wouldn't normally say, and do things she wouldn't normally do.

  ***

  Em lay groggily in bed unable to sleep staring at the ceiling. The textures on the ceiling reminded her of identifying shapes in clouds as a kid. The one directly above her resembled a bird. Another, a look like a dog. She felt uncomfortably hot and kicked off the covers. It was too hot to sleep, and her mind wandered toward the crime scene.

  What were the lacerations? A knife, maybe. No, the cut wasn’t clean. The flesh was torn. One with a serrated edge, perhaps? Nah, the size would have to be massive and the wielder, incredibly strong to sever a spine like that. Was that even the cause of death? Did something else happen that killed him first? Like a heart attack and then some psycho happened by and decided to play anatomy?

  There were too many questions, and not enough information. She’d just have to wait. She tried to ignore the heat that enveloped her skin and closed her eyes.

  Sleep.

  Later that night she came into work and marched directly to the medical examiner’s room.

  “What did you find?” Em asked the ME.

  “Well, good evening to you, too.”

  “How are you, Cecelia?” Emiline conceded.

  “I’m well. Are you back on major case?” the medical examiner asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Well...” she began.

  Dr. Cecelia Phobos moved the corpse’s head to the side so Emiline could see.

  “There are several lacerations on the right side of the neck. The muscle shows signs of heavy stress. This man’s flesh was literally torn from his body, but it’s not the cause of death. A severed spine is what killed this man. That or hypovolemia. Take your pick.”

  “Hypovolemia?”

  “Blood loss. Two inches of his carotid is missing. Completely torn out.”

  “From a weapon?”

  “Possibly. Although, I’m not sure what.”

  “A knife?”

  “No. It’s too shoddy. A knife would leave a clean cut.”

  “What about a serrated knife?”

  “No. You wouldn’t have the stretching of the muscle and skin tissue. It’s like someone ripped this man’s throat out with their bare hands,” Phobos concluded.

  Emiline rubbed her eyes and leaned closer to look at his neck.

  “You alright?”

  “Yeah, just tired. What about these marks, here?”

  She pointed along the edges of missing tissue at several small lacerations and puncture marks.

  “Fingernails? Teeth? Some sort of tool or weapon? You’re guess is as good as mine.”

  Em nodded as she scrutinized the marks.

  “Anything else?” Em questioned.

  The medical examiner leaned back against the counter and crossed her arms.

  “He was intoxicated at the time, but under the legal limit.”

  Sigh. The autopsy only raised more questions.

  “Do you think an animal could have done this?”

  Cecelia shrugged.

  “Animal bites aren't really my area of expertise. I can say one thing. It’d have to be a tremendous animal.”

  An animal attack or a matter of Herculean rage?

  Nothing was adding up. She felt flustered.

  “Okay, thanks,” Em said agitated and left the room.

  She headed back to her work desk and plopped in her seat. Something about the body nagged at her. She sat silently at her desk and stared at the report of the victim. He was still a John Doe, not yet identified. Nothing came up on his prints. They’d have to wait for dental records.

  She kept going over the scene. Something about it didn’t add up. The man seemed fit enough to flee from danger, even if intoxicated. She pondered the scenario. The man is outside on the side of the building...doing what? A feral dog takes him by surprise and lunges at his neck? That seemed like a pretty tall leap for a dog, but it was possible. A mountain lion, on the other hand, that was an animal that he wouldn’t be able to escape, and one that could do that kind of damage. But, in the middle of the city. Pfft. No way. The puzzle ate at her, but she resolved to set it aside for now. She had to get out on patrol. One more night. Then, back to solving crimes.

  ***

  Sophie sat in an office upstairs from the bar and skimmed through an old, frail, tattered book. The pages were yellowed and brittle, and the binding barely held the pages in place. Pictographs and ancient writings lined its dusty pages.

  “Evening, Sunshine.”

  Sophie looked up from the pages spread before her. A captivating, confident woman strutted through the doorway.

  “Luce,” Sophie greeted, flatly.

  “I heard about the body. We looked into it, and it does appear The Sons had something to do with it. The the saliva from the bite marks is a match,” said Luc
e as she walked up to the desk, her red hair bouncing with the pep in her step.

  Sophie sat up straight. It was just what she was worried about. She recognized the bite on the man’s neck but couldn’t imagine why The Sons of Cain would decide to murder one of Sophie’s own people, on her own turf, no less. The Sons weren’t careless executioners, not since the treaty was enacted over a century ago. It was too dangerous. That was part of why the Watchers had banned such killings. Murders were no longer something that could be easily covered up. People didn’t just disappear, anymore. There were traces of them everywhere: social security numbers, credit cards, driver licenses, fingerprints, blood, hair, all kinds of evidence. That’s why the Watchers put a stop to such hedonistic acts, to protect both clans from being discovered.

  A long time ago, they both lived openly among humans. Both clans had amassed great power and wealth as a result. One from domination, the other through education and innovation. However, their reigns didn’t last long. People were always suspect of those who were different, especially if power and money were in play.

  Sophie had witnessed many of these atrocities first hand. People became mob-like when faced with the unexplainable or the unattainable, and mobs were completely irrational. There was no way of predicting who the public would turn on in such a case. It was privy to the times and the people who were arrogant enough to lay blame without any hint of rational justification. Sophie thought back on the Black Death. Humans blamed it on Jews and killed without hesitation. Others pointed the finger at humankind’s wickedness and sin. Even stale air coming out of the earth was attributed as a cause.

  At least humans were a lot more informed these days, Sophie thought. But they still had a long way to go, and they still harbored a tendency to revert to supernatural explanations and absurd accusations when faced with the seemingly unexplainable.

  Sophie’s mind wandered back to the recent murder. None of this explained a Son of Cain taking down a Watcher. The killing of a human was dangerous. It violated their treaty, and meant possible exposure to the public. But, the murder of a Watcher was a war cry.

  “Why?” asked Sophie.

  “Well, THAT I’m not sure of. But, the DNA from the bite is lycan. I was hoping you could look into it.”

  Sophie closed the book. Whatever Luce wanted, she did. It was part of her obligations for her stipend. However, she didn’t mind too much. Luce knew there was a limit to what she could ask of her and she was careful not to cross it. Sophie was game for this task. She wanted to get down to the bottom of this. She didn’t appreciate all the heat coming down on her and her bar, or the loss of one of their own, and she wanted The Sons to know it.

  Sophie nodded in acceptance.

  “Thanks hun. I can always count on you,” said Luce.

  The brazen woman left the office. Sophie carefully stored the book in a metal safe behind a picture frame on the wall behind her. The picture depicted large oak trees in a dark forest with softly illuminated arrow signs pointing in various directions. It was her favorite picture. She closed the safe, straightened the painting, and headed toward a glass door that opened onto a balcony several stories up. She jumped onto the railing and swooped off into the dusky sky.

  ***

  Em headed out of the precinct for her last night on patrol.

  Thank god.

  Patrol was so boring and mundane. Traffic ticket. Waiting. Traffic ticket. Listening to excuses for why someone didn’t deserve a ticket. Lies, complaining, and another traffic ticket. Detective work was different. With murder investigations there were puzzles to solve: motive, psychology, science. It was like a game, where winning meant making the world safer, better.

  She opened the door to her patrol car.

  “Zadok!”

  She turned.

  Her partner was waving her down. Jack Baldawin had been her partner for over a year. He was older, more seasoned, and great at improvisation. She had learned a lot from him, and was grateful someone like him had her back.They had recently been split up when she was put on patrol.

  “I heard you're back on tomorrow.”

  She shook her head in approval.

  “Awesome. I’m finishing up a case. Gotta give a depo. tomorrow, and maybe the day after. So, you can catch me up on the new one later?”

  “Yeah. There’s not much to catch up on, though. John Doe...M.E. hasn’t a clue.”

  “Oh, yeah? Hmph...Well, that’s where we come in,” he joked. “Alright. Well, glad to have you back.”

  She nodded and got in the car.

  “Hey!” he shouted as he ran up to the window. “What are you doing later? You want to get a drink or something?”

  She grimaced.

  “I don’t know, Jack. I’m pretty tired.”

  He nodded.

  “I haven’t been sleeping well, lately.”

  “Alright,” he said, a little defeated.

  “Another time,” he said.

  She nodded and cranked the engine. He took a step back and watched her pull out of the parking lot onto the street.

  Ticket time.

  She cruised through the streets downtown.

  “Wait a minute.”

  Em had a thought.

  He was drinking. Probably at that bar, and no one said they recognized him? Yet, all of their customers are regulars. They would’ve noticed someone new there the same way they noticed me. Either that, or he was a regular.

  One way or another, or regular or not, they knew this guy.

  ***

  Sophie arrived at the mansion of The Sons of Cain. It wasn’t far from where she lived and was only about a ten minute flight North over the river. She knocked on the door and a younger, fit looking gentleman with dark brown, scruffy hair answered. His eyes lit up when he saw her.

  “Sophie! What are you doing here?”

  “Faelan.”

  She smiled at the greeting.

  “I need to talk to Ralph.”

  “Uh...yeah. He’s in a meeting right now, but I can bring you in.”

  He opened the door wider and Sophie entered the grand entryway, full of marble and grey stone. Faelen led her into a long hallway on the right.

  “It’s been awhile,” he said.

  “Yeah.”

  The Watchers and the Sons of Cain used to be much closer. They harbored similarities which had warranted cooperation. Both had massive strength and an exceptional lifespan. The Sons didn’t live nearly as long as The Watchers, only about five hundred years, but it was night and day compared to a human’s lifespan. After both clans were forced to go into hiding, they agreed upon a policy of limited collaboration. The resulting treaty was honored for millennia. Both sides kept the other’s true identities’ secret from the human race and provided various forms of assistance. However, disagreements over policy and power eventually led to a complete separation of the two races. A new treaty replaced the former recognizing each clan as a separate entity and the reigning authority over its own jurisdiction. Tensions remained high, but peace had been fairly consistent.

  Sophie had always been fond of Faelan. But, their contact had been extremely limited since the split of the clans. He was the youngest of the clan, only about 100 years old, and she viewed him like a little brother. Sophie didn’t say much. In spite of her fondness for seeing an old friend, this was business, and he worked for the other side.

  As they entered an elevator, Faelan went on and on about what she had missed since they last spoke. It had been half a century. He told her about how he raced motorcycles in his free time, and he had a girlfriend, a human! Sophie nodded affectionately as she waited. The elevator doors opened and they entered into a great underground hall with stone walls. The ceilings were roughly three stories high. Gas burning valances lined the dimly lit walls and pillars.

  They arrived in front of an older gentleman seated in a large, ornate chair. Apparently, they hadn’t lost their taste for extravagance, Sophie thought.

  “Ah.”
<
br />   A seated man spread his arms wide open in a welcoming gesture accompanied by a big grin.

  “The bearer of wisdom. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  Nor, had Ralph lost his affinity for sarcastic jabs, Sophie found. She ignored it and cut to the chase.

  “Ralph. It appears there’s been a murder of one of our own right in our own territory. It also appears that one of your Sons was involved.”

  “Whaa?”

  He straightened in his chair and leaned forward.

  “Well, that’s impossible. My men know better. It’s not like our agreement has changed in the past...oh, I don’t know…300 years. Besides, it’s not like we’re animals, you know?” he scoffed.

  Sophie wasn’t amused.

  “Well, DNA suggests otherwise. Lycan blood was found from a bite on the victim’s neck. That is your signature move, isn’t it?”

  Ralph cocked one eyebrow up.

  “Well, it’s yours, too, is it not?” he retorted with a smirk.

  “You know this breaks our treaty.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa.”

  He put his hands up.

  “Hold the phone. Who was this person? At least let me figure out what’s going on before you come throwing all this in my face.”

  “Yophiel. He was right outside my bar. Are you really telling me you don’t know anything about this? Your men won’t breathe unless you tell them.”

  Many lycan lined the room. All had been completely silent, until now. Now, they discreetly whispered to one another as they looked on in curiosity. The murder of a Watcher was a war cry, and the Watchers were far more powerful than the Sons, though, less plentiful.

  Ralph tensed up at this information.

  “I assure you, nothing of the sort has been authorized by me. Bring me evidence and we’ll get down to the heart of this matter,” he said as he leaned back in his chair and relaxed.

  Sophie pulled out a vial from the inside of her coat pocket.