Desires Unleashed (18 page)

“Do you lick your wounds clean and heal them?” he asked.

“Lick them clean? I can and I do if I'm alone, but they heal on their own, as you've seen. Wounds just heal faster with the aid of our saliva. But, if it's a more serious, life-threatening wound, then we all go to her and drink of her healing blood as she licks the wound with her healing saliva. Not every female can be the Matron, as I'm sure you realize,” Warren said, with raised eyebrows.

“Yes, I suppose. What kind of females can be Matrons?”

“Natural born females only. No bitten shifter can become one with the Alpha and become Matron. The magic or chemistry or whatever you want to call it, just isn't there,” Warren explained. “Same with male shifters. Only a natural born male can assume the position of Pack Alpha.”

“I see. Okay, what else? What tastes better? Cooked food or raw?” Matthew asked.

Warren thought about his answer for a moment. “Raw. But that's if I'm in wolf form of course. If I'm in human form, then I'd have to say I like the meat seasoned and cooked rare. At least I don't
really
get food poison, if I do, I pretty much puke it up within minutes of digestion and then I can go about my business, no long hours of night sweats and agonizing pain.”

“Lucky you, I don't even want to remember the last time I was sick like that. Okay, tell me more about the Pack.”

“Like I said, we have a King and Queen who, protect and provide for the Pack. On full moons, which we refer to as
Lunars,
we hunt together. Where my Pack lives, we have a private forest for our hunting grounds. However, only natural born wolves can shape-shift at will and hunt when we choose. Bitten wolves are at the mercy of a
Lunar
before they can join the hunt, but there are exceptions to the rules here as well,” he paused.

“Go on,” Matthew urged. Warren threw him a sly smile, flashing a row full of pearly whites.

“If a bitten shifter comes into the hunt and gets a strong scent of the blood from the kill, they might change. The hunger forces the body to change so they could feed. Our human form doesn't digest raw deer meat that well, you know with the bones and all.” Warren smiled. Matthew chuckled then Warren continued. “Our digestive tract changes specifically for a different type of feeding. Also, another thing that can induce the change is extreme fear or anger. If we are terribly afraid or upset then the change could be triggered.” Warren exited the expressway at the Ohio Street exit. He drove toward the precinct eight blocks away.

“I forgot to ask before, I know how thorough you are, did you get everything we need to make our report from the crime scene today?” Warren asked as he stopped at a red light.

“Yeah, you know I did. Man, I'm still trying to digest all this. So exactly how strong
are you?”
he asked.

Warren thought about it for a minute or two. “I could probably take one of these steel stop sign poles and bend it into a bow, easily. If I exert my strength, I could really do some damage. I have to monitor myself. I have to make sure I don't handle things under extreme emotions.”

Matthew nodded, remembering the two times Warren had broken his car door handle. He seemed to be thinking about times, since their partnership, where he had noticed Warren seeming more tense of body than usual, as if he were struggling to contain something.

“One more question?” he asked as Warren pulled the car into the parking lot of the precinct. “What's up?”

“How in the hell do you keep passing inspections and everything, with all these test we've had to take?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“Well, it's not easy, I can tell you that. My Pack leader helps me out in that department. We have someone whose brother is in our Pack, she looks out for my records. She also does all the analysis and blood work for the precinct. And when I went to the military base, she hacked into the files before anything went public. She's a life saver, let me tell you,” Warren said with a nervous chuckle.

“You wouldn't be talking about Sara would you? Sara Washburn?!” Matthew asked, surprised. Warren nodded.

“Her brother was bitten ten years ago. She hides his identity, being as he's a lawyer and his career would be in the toilet if any of his rich, high-priced clients knew what he was. Even though the supernatural race has been exposed, we still have to hide. It sucks, but it's a fact. My Pack took him in and helped him through it. So to show her gratitude, she helps us out from time to time. My Alpha doesn't really want me to be a cop, but he won't force me to switch careers, unless he thought it would threaten the Pack.”

“What does he have against you working on the force?”

“That's a long story. A lot of my kind feel like it's a betrayal. My leader has mixed feelings about it. He'd rather not turn a shifter over to the humans, but if it can't be avoided, then he turns the other cheek, if you will. Now we got to go or people might start to think we're having a deep passionate conversation,” he said with a chuckle. Both men stepped out of the truck and headed inside.

They walked side by side into the brightly lit station. Uniformed officers were walking around talking with each other and looking over files. One thing Warren knew for certain was that he really liked the S.U.I.T. division's I.T. (Infiltration Team) uniforms. They reminded him of S.W.A.T uniforms, only better, more stylish. The black vest was equipped with hooks for ultraviolet grenades. There were numerous pockets on the vest and pants for knives, ammo and other things. A protective, thin, steel collar and cuffs were sewn into the turtleneck shirt to be worn under the padded vest. Steel-toed combat boots that snapped closed, securing your feet inside. Yeah, Warren really liked wearing the outfit when they were zeroing in on a suspect. But as a detective, he wasn't required to wear the Infiltration Team's uniform.

They signed in at the front desk before going to their desks to look up some of the most recent files on missing persons. Warren's desk was a cluttered mess, files spread askew over the surface. Matthew's desk had all of his papers and files stacked neatly on top in one pile or placed in alphabetical order inside his file cabinet. Both had computers on their desk, and telephones equipped with speaker and caller ID. Sitting at their desks, they turned on their computers. Warren tried straightening up the mess on his desk. He was unsuccessful, so he stopped trying.

“Okay, I'm going to look up the missing person reports for the past forty-eight hours. What are you going to do?” Matthew asked.

“I'll think of something,” Warren smiled.

Matthew looked at him differently now. He felt like he understood him better, more intimately. He was glad he'd lost his reservations about not wanting to pry, deciding to ask questions in spite of himself, thinking it to be rude. He found a certain appeal to his partner now. He wasn't sure if it was because he'd always thought Warren was one of the sexiest men he'd ever seen or was it simply that he was accepting Warren's animal side? Was this just the effect of him being under the spell of an animal attraction, or both of the above? He wasn't sure if he should say anything about the way he felt.

He wasn't sure if
he
could be the
lover
of a
shape-shifter.
He'd thought of that possibility many times since discovering Warren's true nature. Knowing a little bit more about the life behind the hype was truly an eye opener for him. He cleared his mind of the rampant thoughts, trying to concentrate on the troublesome situation at hand. They had to track down and catch a killer, with very little to go on. He scanned through the files on his computer, reading the newest missing person reports on the list. It was sad to see so many people reported missing. This list had seventy-five people on it. There were forty-five throughout Illinois with the other thirty in Chicago alone.

“Shit, I've got about seventy-five people here in Illinois alone that have been reported missing. Thirty just from Chicago. Think it's safe for us to rule out the other states, or no?” Matthew asked, hoping that Warren was on the same page as he in thinking that the people reported missing in the state of Florida, were still in Florida. He wanted to narrow their search as much as possible. They didn't have a motive. Warren suspected that whoever the killer was may also know what he was, possibly wanting to expose him. It could be true, could very well hold water. Although, he wasn't willing to bet his whole paycheck on it, not yet at least.

“I think we should focus on Illinois, mainly Chicago's south side and the areas closest to where we're finding the bodies. I want you to know...this shit really sucks,” Warren said as he read Matthew's report of the most recent murder scene. “Even though the body wasn't in the same condition as the first one, it was still missing a lot of blood and its head. And I think it's the same killer. We need to go down to see Galen to see if he's found anything useful.” Matthew nodded in agreement as he printed out the long list of names with all the information from the missing persons' report.

They rose from their seats, heading toward the chilly basement to reach the morgue. Marshall Galen was their own pathologist working in the same facility. He dealt with the victims of supernatural crimes only. They walked through the double doors of the morgue. The walls were painted gray. The light gray cement floor shone with a soft glow, reflecting the bright florescent lighting equipped with ultraviolet lights for emergency backup. There was a long wall layered from top to bottom with drawers for the numerous corpses that filled the morgue. A small, stainless steel sink was in the middle, right beside two draining holes. They saw Marshall, his six-foot-three, thin frame hunched over the remains of the body they had viewed earlier. He was working with silver tongs and scalpel. His salt and pepper hair needed a trimming, loose curls dropped low, covering his eyes. His thick, black-rimmed glasses were smudged. He was wearing worn brown loafers, gray wrinkled slacks and a long white lab coat over his green button up shirt. Warren thought about Xander and Adrian, of how they would want to drag him away to make-over heaven.

“Yo, doc find anything interesting? Anything we can use?” Warren called as they approached the coroner. Marshall straightened up, looking at the two officers. The deep breath he released meant that he did not have good news. Taking his glasses off his face, he pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and wiped his glasses clean. After holding them up to the light, he placed them back on. He looked at the two men again.

“Well, gentleman, there wasn't a whole lot left to this person,” he said, gesturing to the five chunks of flesh decomposing on the stainless steel examining table.

“So, can you tell if it was a man or woman? That might give us a pattern we can trace,” Matthew inquired.

“Man,” Warren said. Matthew gave him a questioning look. Warren shook his head as if to say,
“don't ask yet”.
He looked at the coroner who was looking at him curiously.

He shrugged. “Lucky guess, I suppose. Do you think I'm right, doc?” Warren asked to cover up his blunder. Marshall Galen gave him a small nod, apparently satisfied with Warren's explanation.

“From the size of the fragment of bone in this piece here,” he poked a chunk of red flesh so Warren and Matthew could see what he meant, “is pretty thick in circumference, which suggests a male.” Both men nodded. The blood oozed out more as he moved the flesh. Torn muscles and nerves dangled from the boulder of flesh like tentacles. Matthew paled a bit then shifted from one foot to the other. Warren was happy he'd had a full breakfast, his stomach didn't betray him now.

“And furthermore, you see this?” the coroner said, pointing to a dark dryness inside the bone fragment.” This tells me that this body belonged to a mortal man about average height...hmmm, what's this?” he said, leaning closer to the table. Even though the room temperature was very cold, the smell of the numerous corpses, past and present, filled the room with a thick stench, like rotting meat. Warren figured the scent wasn't so strong for human senses. One thing was for certain, he didn't particularly care for the scent of decaying flesh. The smell in the room made it easier for him to control his hunger, that and the fact that he had a full belly.

“Is this what I think it is?” Marshall asked as he looked closely at several strands of silky black fur between his tweezers. Warren and Matthew moved closer to get a better look. Warren gestured for the tweezers and Marshall held them out. Taking the tweezers from Marshall, he held them up to the light. He turned his back to the coroner so he wouldn't see him smell the fur, taking in the scent. He turned toward Marshall, returning the fur with the tweezers.

“Well, that just confirms what we thought already. From the way the flesh was torn, it looked like a shifter murder,” Matthew said as he walked toward the gray double doors, followed by Warren. “Just fill us in if you find out anything else, Marshall, thanks.” When they stepped outside the morgue, Matthew turned to Warren, wanting to know the answer to the question he couldn't ask until now.