13 comments/ 17498 views/ 24 favorites Bark at the Moon Ch. 01 By: CrazzyGuy Hey, folks. This is my first story on Lit, and firstly, I'd like to thank you all for reading, off the bat. There's not much in the way of sex in the first chapter, but I do like to bring up the plot. Enjoy, and please, review, comment, and enjoy! * Kara Archer sat in the passenger seat of her brother's car. She had her eyes closed, and her entire body was on edge. "I dunno if I can do it, bro." She said. Her hands were on the dashboard, spread out as she tried to calm herself. Her twin brother, Jason, put his hand on her shoulder. "Hey, Kara, sis, you're good. Don't you worry." His voice was, as always, calm and confident. "You've got this. I did some digging on this DL who's training you, this Reese guy." She smirked. That was Jason, always the reporter. She looked over to him, opening her eyes. Their eyes met. Jason had the same dark blue eyes she did, a leftover of parents they had never known. "So, yea, what'd you find?" "Oh, he's a big shot in Major Crimes, one of the original detectives from when it was formed five years back. He's got a big fan in the DA's office. Real door kicker." "Is that a hint of displeasure in your voice?" Kara smiled, watching her brother's face. Jason smiled just a little. "Okay, he does have one or two notes of possible brutality. No comments about over-aggressive stormtroopers or anything, I promise." "Nice to know you have such a high opinion of my colleagues, Jason." She rolled her eyes. "I'll text you on my lunch break, tell you how it's going." "You'll do good, sis." He said, sure of that. "Go get 'em, Kara." Kara smiled, and she opened the door. She was outside the San Francisco Police Department, Precinct Four. The red brick building was a holdover from the past century, and had seen use as one of the core precincts of the San Francisco PD for ninety years. She heard Jason drive off, and Kara fidgeted with her jacket. "Well, might as well just get on with it." Kara headed into the precinct, where she found the desk sergeant. She showed her badge. "Inspector Archer, here for Major Crimes, Lieutenant Reese." The sergeant on desk, a Latino with a receding hairline, nodded. "Third floor, detective's desks." "Thanks, sir." She nodded, politely, and headed to the elevator. It was marked as out of order, so she just hiked the stairs. Kara was glad she'd worn flats, then. She popped out onto the third floor. The detective's desks occupied the majority of the floor. Dozens of the same cheap desks were spaced all across the floor. She just decided to start scanning the names on the desk, walking along the rows. "Inspector Archer?" A male voice popped up as she walked through the desks. She turned around, facing the source. Lordy, that could not be Lieutenant Reese. No training officer should be that gorgeous. "Uh, yea, that's me. You are?" "Owen Reese, Detective-Lieutenant, Major Crimes." He stood up from behind his desk. Kara was of an average height, but Reese was, just plainly, huge. He was six-four, easily, and had shoulders that you could have put two officers into. He wore a black t-shirt, revealing muscular arms that had sleeve tattoos, intricate body art. "I'm going to be supervising your detective training." Kara swallowed down a little lump in her throat. Butterflies started to flutter in her stomach. She told herself to shove it, that she was a professional woman and that a superior officer was definitely off-limits. "A pleasure to meet you, sir." She extended her hand. "Inspector Kara Archer." Reese placed his hand in hers, shaking it. He had a strong, firm grasp, and his hand was callused. Was there anything small about him? "Well, you ready to kick things off? We don't usually put you new kids on Major Crimes for detective training, but the Captain liked you." "The Captain?" She'd heard buzz about the director of Major Crimes. He was a legend in the City police department, and one of the pioneers for the creation of Major Crimes to stem gang activity and serial crime. "Well, thanks. So where do we start?" "We're going to take a drive, and I explain what we do here, and about my current case." "Right, sure thing, Lieutenant." Reese smiled, and he took a moment to grab a leather jacket. He gestured for her to follow to the stairs, and she did, matching his speedy clip. "So, Archer, tell me about yourself a bit," He said over his shoulder as they headed into the stairwell. "Well, I graduated from Cal with a degree in criminal justice, worked traffic for a few years, and I got the promotion to Inspector this past April after doing some leg work for the Special Victims Unit." "Special Victims? You've got a stomach then." His voice was like a little low growl, and it sent a shiver through her. "That's good. We do a lot of murder cases." "Gang stuff, right?" She asked. "Some of it. I'll explain some more in the car, all right?" "Sure thing, Lieutenant." "Call me Reese, Archer." He insisted. They got into his car, a black sedan, one of the typical g-cars, and started off. "So, where are we going?" "A place called the Cauldron. It's a coffee place that Major Crimes cops frequent." "Cauldron? Sounds sorta hippy-ish." Reese chuckled. "Yea, well, it's our place." He pulled out from the police parking garage onto the packed San Francisco streets. "So, you worked with SVU. Any cases I'd have heard about?" "I did some legwork on the Harper rapist." Reese looked away from the road to look at Kara for a moment, flashing a grin. 'Really? Heard he was a real piece of work. Ran for like, ten minutes, didn't he?" "Yea," Kara smirked just a little. "I ended up tackling him. Outran half a dozen cops who were also on his tail." "You took him down? Impressive." "I'm a gal of an average height, average build. If I'm going to be taking down perps who weight twice my weight, I keep myself in tip-top shape, study martial arts." She now grinned. "Can kick my brother's ass." "A brother, eh?" Reese muttered a curse as someone tried to cut them off. "Tell me about him." His brown eyes fluttered with a little glimmer of pleasantness. "We're gonna be working together for a few months, so I figure we ought to get to know each other." "Well," Kara relaxed back into the seat. The upholstery in the car wasn't great, but after all, it was a cop car. "He's a reporter for the Bay Shield." "The Bay Shield?" He gave her an inquisitive look. "Jesus Christ, he's one of those reporters?" Kara sighed. She'd had to deal with this for years, ever since it got out amongst the uniformed officers that her twin brother worked for a news site that, on a good day, could be viewed as liberal. Most days, it was viewed as a government-scathing outfit that questioned police methods and did what they would have called muckraking a century ago. "Yea," Kara answered. "He's not a bad guy. Just..." "A bleeding heart, with a mad-on for making our kind look bad?" "Yea, on the first part. He doesn't cover cop cases, but he's big on human rights." Kara sighed. "Listen, can we get this out of the way, Reese? Can I be straight with you?" "Sure thing, Archer." Reese said. The lieutenant pulled into the Castro, and found a spot on the street. "We're partners now, for what it's worth." "Jason and I are two sides of the same coin. We're twins, and our parents died in an arson a few months after we were born. Grew up, raised together in foster care. We both wanted to work so that people wouldn't have the shit that we got raised with. I became a cop...Jason took the more radical route." Reese smiled, just a little, as he turned off the engine. "In a weird sort of way, I can respect that. Still doesn't excuse the fact the man works for the Shield. Come on, let's get some joe." They walked into the Cauldron. Like Kara suspected, it was a bit of a hippie place, lots of wood, and with a big chalkboard with the daily specials on it. The woman behind the counter was a brunette, in her mid-thirties, rather pretty. She wore her hair in loose pigtails, and wore a gray apron over her sun dress. "Heyya, Owen," She had a bright cheery disposition. "Who's the new fish?" Reese grinned, and chuckled. "This is Kara Archer, my new trainee. Archer, this is Jasmine Carlisle, owner of the Cauldron." Jasmine grinned. "Oh, really? Reese's Pieces here give you the four-one-one on what he does yet?" "Uh, no," Kara looked between the tall lieutenant and the small brunette. "That's why we were here." "Well," Jasmine Carlisle whistled. "Yea, have fun with that. Your first one's on the house, Inspector Archer." "Yea, well, surprise me." She replied. "Always up for trying something new." Reese ordered, and they both went to a seat. "So, Archer..." "Want to explain what this was about?" She asked. The dark-haired man tugged on his jacket just a little. "All right, listen, Archer, we've got some stuff to discuss." "Go for it," She crossed her arms across her chest. Kara wasn't sure what to think of Reese yet. It definitely seemed like the man was hiding something. "Major Crimes handle organized crime, serial crime, that stuff, but only of a certain...breed, Archer." "A certain breed?" She furrowed her brow, in confusion. "I don't follow." Here it was. Owen hated telling a new kid this, but it was part of the SOP for inducting them. "Archer, do you believe in ghosts?" "I don't follow. Are you going somewhere with this?" Her brow furrowed, crossing across her pretty features. Owen sighed. "First of all, don't dodge the question. Christ, you've never been on the stand, have you?" "Uh, no, I haven't." She really was a new fish. Probably wouldn't last long on a stand. It was a good thing that most of their perps never got to trial. Their cronies, maybe, but the big shots never made it to trial. You didn't arrest people like that. No way to restrain them properly. Besides, who'd believe it? "Answer the question, Archer. Do you believe in ghosts?" She shook her head. "No, I don't. I don't see how this is relevant." "Then let me lay this out simple, Archer." He lowered his voice. "Major Crimes Unit specializes in unusual cases, particularly those with supernatural origins." She laughed. "I'm getting punked, right?" She leaned forward, a little grin crossed her tanned face. The beast in Owen was curious over whether her entire body was that tanned. Maybe a bit of Hispanic background? "You can't be serious." "Deadly." He said. Their order came up, and he stood up to grab the drinks. He came back with the two ceramic cups, balancing them on their saucers. "Archer, let me just run through this." He sat back down, and set the cups out. "There are a lot of things out there. Vampires, shapeshifters, witches. There are things that go bump in the night, and MCU is the thing that protects the people of San Francisco from those things." Archer stared at him, in disbelief. "This is the weirdest hazing I've ever gone through." "It's not hazing by any means. I'm telling the flat truth, Kara Archer. Monsters are real." She froze. "Prove it." Owen knew that this was the time. He glanced around. Cauldron was nearly empty now, with most of the usuals off doing their daily activities. Owen knew anyone who saw this would have already seen it. He pulled his lips back from his teeth, showing his pair of thick, canine fangs, forcing that little bit of the transition. "Easy. I'm one of them, Archer." Kara wanted to throw up. Or maybe scream. Everyone else wasn't freaking out. Was she the only one who had seen Reese grow a pair of freaking fangs? "What. The. Fuck." She hissed. "That..that..." She couldn't even think of how to respond to that. "I'm a werewolf, Archer." She shook her head. She'd never thought about this. She'd grown up with an idea of empiricism, that something like the supernatural was a bunch of bullshit. But, here was a freaking werewolf right in front of her. "This is, really crazy." She whispered. Kara ran a hand through her hair. "Like, really insane. Werewolves? So, what, walk me through this...You're a werewolf. But you hunt them?" "Most Supernaturals, as we're called, are happy, law-abiding citizens. But there's the usual thing that happens. A vampire who kills a girl to get his fill of blood, some of the odd supernatural drugs that run around, and a lot of organized crime that is involved with the various supernatural races." "So, uh, what, we're supernatural cops?" "We." Reese grinned. "You're coming around fast to that. We'll turn you into a Major Case gal yet." "So, okay," Kara said. "You guys hunt monsters. Vampires, werewolves, ghosts, magic, it's all real?" "Yea. Jasmine over there is a witch." "And we're not talking about New Age-y wicca crap, are we?" He chuckled. "No, more like divination, fireballs, and spells that actually work. Though she sticks to coffee and cooking, more than magic." She exhaled a sigh. Wow, magic. Like, real magic. "Okay, so, there's dozens of inspectors. Lots of them have already worked cases before. Why, me? Why do you think I'd be good at this monster hunting business?" "You fit the criteria." He answered. "We search for inspectors with little family, combat aptitude, reckless personalities, and ridiculous work ethics." "This is crazy." She murmured. "Welcome to the jungle, Archer." The next hour or so, Archer grilled him. After the initial shock, surprisingly, Kara was taking this pretty well. Sure, she had just had the bedrock of her existence shaken up, but there was something that made sense in the way that Reese all explained it. He laid out to her the "rules." "First of all, what I've told you? Stays with Major Case Unit. If your reporter brother finds out about it and leaks this to the public, it'd be the apocalypse, Archer. You think the Cold War was bad? Imagine finding out your neighbor isn't a communist, but he's a fucking vampire." History wasn't Kara's strong suit, but she could see the sense in not blowing the lid off this to the public. "Okay, all right. No telling the family." She promised. "Second, we only take down a supernatural that's killed, or used their powers to exploit others. The director makes those calls, on a case to case basis. However, if it's self-defense, it's okay." "All right. Will I get to meet the Captain ever?" Kara asked him. "We'll see. Captain's a pretty private guy, very hands-off." Kara noted that little evasion. "All right, what else?" "Those are the two big ones. No killing unless it's necessary, no yapping. There's also a bunch of little rules each race operates on. For the vamps, they're about formality and etiquette. The weres, it's about pack law and the rule of the strong." He stood up. "But that's a lesson for another day." "All right," She nodded. "So, what's on our agenda for the day?" "Well, I was-" His phone rang, and he pulled it from a pocket. "Hold on a sec..." He answered the call. "Reese. Yea..Yea. Where is it? Fuck me..." Reese's voice descended into a growl. "All right, I'm bringing the new fish." He ended the call and jammed the phone into his pocket. "Shit, Archer. We've got a body, confirmed for one of ours. Ever worked a corpse before?" She shook her head. "Only victims I've ever worked have been living ones, sir." "Well, the dead ones are a lot easier, apart from the smell. How's your driving?" "My driving, Reese?" Kara arched an eyebrow, inquisitive. "Fair enough." "Good, you're driving." The body was in the third floor of a building that had seen better days. He knew because he'd been around for them. In the late 1890s, he'd bought it as an office for a shipping business. After a fire in the fifties, he'd retooled it as a business on the first and floors, and housing on the third through fifth. However, the building hadn't seen many tenants in the past twenty years. Corvus had done that by design. He sat in a building across the street, peering into the building. A few uniformed members of the constabulary were already there. They had discovered the body, after he had phoned in an anonymous tip. Of course, he had the best source for the tip. Himself, considering he'd placed the body there. It had been a simple matter. Corvus had done a similar killing in San Diego a few years ago. He had added a few things, taken a few things away, enough to not make a connection appear. But the ritual still had worked. The bottom feeder would be pleased, he was sure. He watched as a black sedan pulled up at the street. He saw Owen Reese there. The man was a perennial thorn in the side of the various criminal elements of the supernatural. He saw a woman also emerge from the car. She was an unknown. An oddity, as it was. He sensed something from her, something unfamiliar. She wasn't human. No, not entirely. She warranted some investigation. "So, what's the call?" Kara asked as they entered the abandoned building. "One-eight-seven." He answered. Great, homicide. They trudged up the stairs. Reese took them two at a time, leaving Kara having to nearly jog up the steps to keep up with him. The man did nothing small, did he? They stopped at the third floor, where a number of crime techs were already clustered. A uniformed officer was there for them. "Lieutenant Reese?" "Officer Ryan," Her training officer nodded to the uni. He was a wiry redhead, a rookie by the way he stood. "How'd we find out about this?" "Anonymous tip. Sergeant Rodriguez and I were investigating the scene, and we found the body. We called it in, and I guess it got tossed to you guys." "All right, Archer, booties and gloves." Ryan called over to a lab tech, who gave them both coverings for their shoes, and gave them both latex gloves. Kara looked down at her hands. "I always feel like a cartoon character when I'm wearing these." Reese chuckled. "Gloved hands, big poofy booties? Naw, I feel like a backup dancer in an eighties video." The two of them shared a laugh. They started into the hallway, which was a cheap carpet. "Carpet's scuffed." Kara noted. "Looks like something big was dragged over it." "Probably our body." Reese said. "Ryan, where's the body?" "First door on your left, sir." The rookie answered. They walked down to the door, where half a dozen cops and techs already were. The body was laid out in the center of the room, spread eagle. The woman- Kara corrected herself, the victim. She knew she was supposed to distance herself. The victim was female, early twenties. She was stripped bare, leaving her body for the world to see. "All right," Reese started. "Who's the ME tech for this one?" A short, geeky brown-haired guy piped up. "It's me, Reese." "Great, Krazinsky." He smiled. "All right, I need everyone but Krazinsky out of the room, now." The order had all of the officers skittering for cover out in the hallway. When they were gone, Krazinsky asked. "So, the new girl?" "Yea. Archer, this is Lenard Krazinsky, the ME tech who covers most of Major Crimes' dead bodies." "And the occasional one that resurrects on the operating table." The ME said with a resigned sigh. "We check for vampire bites now, man." Reese said. "Anyways, what do we got?" "Well, the first officer thought it was strangulation, which I'm inclined to go with." "So what did we get called in for?" Kara furrowed her brow. "I don't follow." "Wait 'til we turn her over. Give me a hand, Reese?" The lieutenant stooped down, and they slowly turned her over. Kara gasped a little. This was not what she'd been expecting. The woman's back had been practically turned into a carving board. At the center of it was a five-pointed star, the kind that every kid learned how to draw in grade school. It was encapsulated in a circle. In every open space there was some sort of weird runic marking. Bark at the Moon Ch. 01 "Eleven markings all together." Reese grunted. "Snap some pictures of her when you do the full autopsy, Len." "You've got it." He nodded. "There's some evidence of rape, I'll look into that as well." "What do the symbols mean?" Kara asked them. "It might mean that our killer was using our vic's energy for a spell. I'll ask Jas at the Cauldron about what the symbols might mean. However, any spell that uses a body as the canvas has got to be black." "Black magic?" Krazinsky blanched. "Shit. Well, I'll try to figure out exact CoD. That's never easy with magic, though she might have been strangled as part of the ritual..." "Yea, we'll be waiting for the report." Reese stood. "I'm thinking the ritual happened somewhere else. There's not a lot of blood here." "And, what, called it in?" Reese shrugged. "I wouldn't put it past them. If you're doing black magic, you're already past the point of sane thinking. He might be doing it to boast, or as a challenge." Great, lunatic psycho black magicians. When Kara had gotten assigned to Major Cases, this was not her idea of how things would start. Jason Archer pulled his Mini Cooper up to the curb and parked it. He ran a hand through his hair, preparing himself mentally. A tip had come into the Shield about a new drug, Bliss, that was coming out on the streets. Jason had been handed off on the assignment. He'd done a piece on the Cappucio crime family last year, under a pseudonym, and so his editor had tossed this one off on him. He grabbed his Golden State Warriors cap, his sign for his informant. He also picked up his recorder and his gun. Technically, it wasn't legal to carry a handgun in San Francisco, but he knew more than a few good contacts. Besides, he'd rather be safe than sorry. He hid the small pistol in his jacket, and he walked out of the car, and across the street to the diner. Jason was almost a bit too excited. He'd just gotten off a vegetarian diet a few weeks ago, and he'd taken every chance to indulge himself in more carnivorous tastes. He found a booth, and an older lady took his order. He waited a few minutes, sending off a text to Kara about her day. While some of his colleagues weren't too fond of the police, Jason had been more than willing to take it upon himself to defend his little sister. True, he was only older than her by an hour, but he was still her brother, and he was damn proud of her for becoming a cop. About five minutes after the waitress left him his Coke, a woman entered the diner. Everything about her screamed danger. Her auburn hair was pulled back in a loose pony tail. She wore a denim jacket, black leather pants that fit perfectly on her long legs, and Jason could tell her sunglasses were top-shelf stuff, designer material. Jason could tell from the way she walked that she was armed. People packing heat moved with a much more deliberate manner, assessing threats and determining. She surveyed the diner, and her gaze, even behind the sunglasses, seemed to drill into Jason. She walked towards him, her boots clicking across the linoleum floor of the diner. "You the guy from the Bay Shield?" "Yea, that's me." She slid into the booth, opposite from him. "Hmm, cuter than I expected." She extended a hand, finely manicured. "Name's Iris Nash." "Jason Archer." He extended his own hand, and shook hers. She had a nice grip. Jason found himself a little pleased by that. If the tough girl deal was just an act, he'd be a little less inclined to take her seriously. Iris smiled. "The Shield's covering lunch, right?" At his nod, she grinned. "Fantastic. I'm famished." She called over the waitress, and ordered a rare burger, fries, and a shake. As the woman scuttled off, she got right into it. "So, let's get started. I'm here representing an interested party who wants you to dig into this new drug in the street." "Yea, Bliss." He'd done his research. There wasn't much on the subject. Hell, no one even had an ideas on its origin. The few street sources he'd interviewed were pretty vague on it too. It was a club drug, from what it seemed. It was absorbed through the skin, and acted as a stimulant and an aphrodisiac, supposedly. "So, tell me a bit about what you know about it." "It's locally produced, I know that much." She said. "We're not sure about the exact process of how they make it, but there's a crime organization distributing them." "All right, who are they?" He asked. He pulled out his recorder, and set it on the table. "You don't mind if I record this?" She smirked. "Go right ahead." Iris sat back. "All right, so, you've heard of the Phantoms?" "Yea, they moved in a few years ago, swept up some of the smaller street gangs. They used to do a lot of X, right?" She shook her head. "They actually stayed out of drugs until pretty recently. The Bliss is their first really foray into this stuff. They do it mostly out of clubs, and keep all sales inhouse. However, since it's not big, and no one's died, the cops don't really know much about it." "It doesn't sound too bad." He remarked. "What's so bad about it?" "It's highly addictive." She said. "One hit of the stuff is enough to get you hooked. You try it once, you're going to want another when it's worn off." "And what's your interest in this?" He leaned forward, looking into her sunglasses. "You don't strike me as the 'concerned citizen' type." She chuckled. "Mm, yea. I represent a party who doesn't like Bliss one bit." "You mean you work for a rival organization." He shot back. Iris shook her head. "No, no, Mister Archer, my boss doesn't do drugs. In fact, he's mostly interested in keeping drugs off the streets. It's bad for business." "All right, Miss Nash." He said. "Where do we start from here?" "Ever hear of a club called Every Last Drop?" Oh, boy, here we go, was his only thought. The things he did for a story. * Thanks for reading! Jason and Kara are both going to get their stories, and I've got plans for both of these archers. Comment, please, and leave a review! It's like crack to an author, you know. Bark at the Moon Ch. 02 Hey, folks, thanks for the long wait, but here's Chapter 2. Jason and Kara have some more adventures, and there's some sexiness in this chapter. * Kara flipped through the coroner's report that they'd just had faxed over from the labs. "Doc says the rape kit turned up positive. No semen in our vic, so our guy wore a condom." "Smart, I guess." Reese rolled his eyes. "How about AFIS? We got any prints on her?" She flipped through the report. "Yea, looks like it. Victim's name is Felicia Brewer. Aged 20, student at Cal. We've got an address for her. It looks like it's a dorm in Berkeley." "Berkeley, what's she doing up here in the big city?" She shrugged. "Beats me, maybe she was up in town for the weekend, partying and the like, ran into the wrong guy?" "Yea, wrong guy who carved a spell into her back." Reese grunted as he sat down at his desk. Reese had seen to it that she was given the desk facing his for her training period. The Major Cases unit had a block of ten desks that they worked for their own, somewhat isolated from the rest of the detectives on the floor. The rest of the desks were empty for the moment. Reese had told her that a lot of the unit worked later shifts or were often out in the field. "We also have time of death, or at least the Coroner's best guess." She looked back to the report. "Looks like she was killed three days ago." "So, Saturday." She nodded. "So, what's the next step? Go search Felicia Brewer's apartment?" "Ever been to Berkeley?" "My brother went there. He got into journalism covering the Bears sports programs." "Ew." Reese made a face. "Stanford man myself." "I'm never letting you guys into the same room." Kara grabbed her paddle holster and donned it as she stood. "Aw, I think it'd be fun." Reese chuckled as he pulled on his jacket. "Why not?" "Because he's just as likely to not like you." Kara said. "Jason's the big protective brother type." "How much older than you is he?" He asked. "Eighty-seven minutes." She grinned. "Come on, let's beat the traffic." As it was often truth in the Bay, one did not simply beat traffic. They sat in traffic for about an hour to get to Berkeley. And sitting in a car with Owen Reese was damn dangerous. Kara hated to dwell on it, but the man was gorgeous. The man seemed naturally tanned. And he was buff. It wasn't in a gym-freak style, but he must have been a swimmer or a runner. He wore his badge on a chain on his neck, which just brought her attention to the way his t-shirt stretched over his chest. She mentally scolded herself. Bad, bad. As absolutely delicious as he might have been, he was still her superior, and they were supposed to be partners. Damn, was her sex life that dead that she was ogling her training officer? Hell yea, her libido told her. She'd been date-less for the better part of a year. Her last boyfriend had broken up with her over, big surprise, her crazy desire to work crazy hours. Okay, sure, it had been her fault the relationship didn't work out, but she was a career-oriented woman. However, her only company the past few months had been a rather handy vibrator, and her body, at least, wanted to change that. She forced those thoughts out of her head, at least for the moment, when they got into Berkeley. He had her look up directions to her block of dorms. Kara forced herself to think on anything but Reese. The case. The case was safe ground. They walked up the dorm room. "Want to take lead on this?" Reese asked her. Kara looked back to him. "Uh, yea, sure." She brought out her notebook, and then knocked with her free hand. "We know if there's a room mate or anything?" Her question was answered a moment later, when the door opened. A petite Asian girl stood there in the doorway. "Uh, hello?" "Yea, is this where Felicia Brewer lives?" "Uh, yea," The girl nodded. "I'm Amy, Felicia's room mate. What's this about?" "Amy, I'm Detective-Inspector Archer, this is my partner, Detective-Lieutenant Reese. We're from San Francisco PD. Can we come in?" She nodded, and stood back. "What's this about? Is Felicia in some kind of trouble?" "Amy, uh," Kara bit her lip. "You should sit down." "Sit down?" She looked around. "Uh, yea, sure." She closed the door behind them, and directed them to the couch. She cleared off a few books and blankets so she and Reese could sit. "What's this about, Detectives?" She asked again. "Amy, Felicia was murdered on Saturday. We found the body this morning." "Oh my God." Amy brought a hand to her mouth. "She...Oh, God. She was up there visiting friends. Always did on the weekends." She shook her head. "Who would do a thing like this? She was a nice gal." "That's what we want to find out, Amy. Can you tell us about these friends?" She nodded. "She's from the East Coast, but she found a few people in San Francisco she clicked with. I, uh, never met them, but I know she met with them at a bar in the city...Kragen's, I think." "All right." Archer nodded. "Thanks, Amy. I know this has got to be hard...Were you two close?" "Felicia was a year ahead of me, but we had similar majors. She...she was polisci, and I'm a sociology major." She shook her head. "I can't believe she's gone. This is crazy. I just saw her Friday morning, nothing was wrong..." Kara wasn't sure whether she'd mention the rape. "Was there anyone in her life she was wary of? Anyone giving her trouble in class or anything?" Amy shook her head. "She was having some trouble with tuition, but that's pretty much standard for a UC." Reese piped in. "Amy, would it be all right if we looked through Felicia's room? We just want to see if there's anything that might explain what happened." "Go right ahead." She said. "I..I need to call the dorm advisors..." "Of course." He nodded. "We'll only be a few minutes." The two detectives stood, and they headed into the room Amy directed them to. Kara wasn't particularly struck by how messy it was. Felicia Brewer's room had clothes in a big pile in the floor. "She had a boyfriend, or at least some sort of romantic interest." She chuckled. "And how do you figure that, Reese?" "I can smell the male, Archer" Kara furrowed her brow. "Uh, seriously?" "Yea. Werewolf, Archer. We've got fantastic noses." "And so," She picked up a notebook, looking it over. "What else does your super nose tell you?" "She was a smoker. Not an easy habit to maintain if you're visiting San Francisco." He remarked. "No, not at all." she shook her head. She started to flip through the notebook. "Nice handwriting." Kara chuckled. "I'm a chicken scratch artist, through and through." "Same here. When I was in high school, I got told I should have gone to med school." He sat down at her desk with her laptop. "Said I had the handwriting for prescriptions." "You obviously didn't end up a doctor." Kara shot back. "Not unless you're hiding an MD underneath all that." "No," He shook his head. "I joined the Navy, got my way through college with that, and I've been in the department ever since." "You don't look that old." She looked back over her shoulder. Well, if he was, he certainly wore the age well. "I've heard you've been on the force for a decade." "Yea, we had the party a few months ago." He smirked. "Hey, got her laptop booted up, but it's password-protected. We can toss this to the lab techs, see if we can get to her email." "It's worth a shot." Kara said. "We'll pack it up, and send it off to the lab." "Hey, what do you say we drop this off at the lab, then go grab a beer? On me, since it's your first day. We can check out that bar, Kragen's, tomorrow." "Sure thing." She grinned. "Could go for a beer after that body." * After dropping off the computer at the crime lab, Owen drove them over to the Thirty-Eight Tavern. It was a cop bar, Kara knew, but she'd never been while she was still a uniform. But now? Now, she had a partner, and a big shot at that. They walked into the tavern, a place with a lot of wood and glass. It was a traditional cop's bar, with an Irish tricolour above the bar and the Police Department's banner beneath it. "Hey, Reese's Pieces." The barkeep, Harley, a burly older man called. "What's up? New girl?" Owen chuckled, and looked over to his partner. "Yea, this is Inspector Kara Archer, the young gun who I'm training." Harley extended his hand. "Well, Kara, pleasure to meet you." They shook hands. "This old squirt riding you hard?" Owen mused that usually, he was an ass to new trainees for Major Cases, but Kara was different. She had a lot of heart. A lot of the MCU were rejects who got tossed their way, who had fudged something up in another department. The Captain, however, had wanted Kara. And what the Captain wanted, the Cap got. "Aw, not at all." Kara waved a hand off. "Just took me to a dead body on the first day." "Oh, poor thing," Harley chuckled. "Here, I'm guessing Reese here's buying tonight?" At Kara's nod, he asked. "Pick your poison, Kara." "Let's start with a glass of Jack, and we'll go from there." She said. Harley nodded. "All right, and you, Reese?" "Yea, I'll go with what she's having." He said, then turned to Kara. "Think you can go shot for shot with me?" "Oh, you know it. I'm the hyper-competitive type. Let's see how you do, wolfman." ** Jason fidgeted with his shirt. He'd been waiting for Iris for several minutes now. He wondered to himself it she was perpetually late, or if she just did it for kicks. The reporter knew the crowd at Every Last Drop, and had dressed accordingly. He'd gone with a black muscle tee, a leather jacket, and jeans. His recorder was in one the buttons on the jacket, a little fix-up he'd done several years back for one of his first undercover assignments. He sat in his car, parked in a lot a few blocks away from the Drop. The intrepid Miss Nash was supposed to have met him here at nine, but here he was, at nine-ten. He was just about ready to give up when he heard a rap on his window. He shut off the car, killing the radio, and looked out the window. There was Iris Nash, dressed similarly to how she was earlier. A quick observation, however, showed she'd changed her shoes for workboots, and had let her auburn hair free from its tail. "Hey there," She said as he got out of the car. Jason nodded. "Hey, you're late." He remarked. "Everything all right?" "Yea, yea," The tall woman nodded. "Just wanted to make sure we were getting in all right. We'll be on the club's list tonight, don't you worry." "I try not to." Jason said. "Just wanted to make sure." He felt a little naked tonight, as he wasn't carrying his pistol, but that was a price of going undercover. He couldn't risk the bouncer frisking him and finding out he was packing. That would have ended the night real quick. He headed with iris out onto the street. "So, what's the game plan when we get in?" "I know one or two people who we can buy the Bliss from. We'll get a private booth, and make off with it. You can do with it whatever you want, but you'll get your story, Mister Archer." They headed over to the entrance to the club, where Jason slipped an arm around her waist. "Just for the role." He promised, a whisper into her ear. "We want to look like a couple, right?" Iris chuckled, and kissed his jaw. "You've got balls, I'll admit that." She whispered. "Let me do the talking, cutie." She purred, and turned to the bouncer. "Hey there, can we head in?" He nodded, and gestured to allow them to enter. The club was loud, belting with electronic music that assaulted Jason's ears. "Jeez." He murmured. "Talk about bad music." A little growl bubbled in her throat. "I like it. Great bass line, really fills you. Come on, let's grab a booth." She led him to a booth, where they ordered some drinks, and Iris spoke a few private words to the waiter. "So," He sat back. "We wait now?" "Yea," She nodded. "The waiters know who to sell to, and I know the right words." "Fantastic." Jason looked over to her. Now that she wasn't wearing sunglasses, he could see her eyes. They were an intense green, and really rather intriguing. "So, Iris, what do you actually do?" "I'm a courier." She said. "I run errands for people who want things taken care of." "How wonderfully vague." Jason chuckled. Their waiter came back with their drinks, and hurried off. "So it's not you who wants to expose the Bliss, it's this anonymous employer of yours?" "How perceptive." She smiled. "How about you, Jason? Tell me about yourself." She said. "Well, I've been with the Bay Shield for four years now. I worked the police scanner for a year. After about a year, I started working civil rights and...unusual crimes." She chuckled. "Define unusual." "Serial crime, cases that were out of the ordinary." Iris shook her head. "You are one weird case." She smirked. "Screwed up, is what you are." "Hey, be nice." He chuckled. "I've got my reasons." "Yea, and what makes a guy chase paddywaggons?" He snorted. "You sound like a shrink." "Yea, well, maybe later I'll shrink wrap you." She said. "Or we can get all Freudian. Show me your cigar?" "Down, girl, let's wait until we score." Jason shot back. It was an odd feeling, working with someone on this. He worked alone with most jobs as a matter of choice. He wasn't a fan of most of his coworkers. They ranged from conspiracy theorists to just plain obsessive. After about ten minutes of Iris dodging more of his questions, a short, demure man approached the table. He was dressed in a suit, with the jacket worn loose. One of the tells of a man carrying a concealed piece. "Come on," He gestured for them to follow. "Let's do some business." Iris got up, and he followed. They walked around the dance floor, avoiding the sea of grinding bodies. They headed to a stairwell behind a door, and they walked up to the second floor. They walked into a room that overlooked the floor of the club. There were several people around a table that was in the center of the room. One of them, a tall Latino, stood up and walked out to them. "Hey, hey, welcome to Every Last Drop. Iris, so nice to see you again." Alarm bells went off in Jason's head. He thought she'd mentioned that she was working opposite to whoever this guy was. "Oh, Rico," The two of them kissed cheeks. "I brought you Jason Archer, the journalist." She'd just blown his cover. Shit. Jason spun on his ankle, and went for the door. Before he'd even taken two steps, a hand had yanked him by the arm. He spun around, looking at Rico's face. His lips were peeled back, and in place of his canines, there were two large fangs. "Oh, do stay, Mister Archer. We're about to have dinner." ** Kara Archer was in the back seat of a taxi with Reese-no, Owen. After a bunch of shots and fun drinks where they'd chatted about everything from drinks to family to cases, they'd called a cab. They stopped at Kara's apartment building. "Thanks," She said. "For everything. For not being an asshole partner, for drinks...for getting me into this sorta screwed up job." "You don't have any regrets, do you?" Owen's dark eyes glittered with playfulness. "I mean, about Major Cases." "I'm not the kind of girl who gets regrets." Kara shot back. "Live, no regrets, and go for it even harder tomorrow." She said. "Great." Owen said. "So, uh, I'll see you tomorrow?" Kara nodded. 'Yea, definitely, see you tomorrow." They looked at each other for a long moment. Before either of them could say anything else, Owen looked into her eyes. She felt a shiver run up her spine. And then Owen kissed her. She hadn't seen that one coming. But his lips, hungry and insistent, nipped at her with a desire that surprised her. What surprised her even more, was that she loved it. She returned the kiss, her hands moving to his shoulders. The man was solid, and she grabbed his arms. His scent, warm and masculine, wafted into her senses. They separated after a moment. "Whoa." Kara said as she pulled back. "You are...Something else." Owen smirked. "Hey, you are one hot number yourself." A million things raced through her mind, but the thing that slipped from her lips was, "You can come up." Whether that was the liquor talking, or her starved libido, she couldn't tell. More importantly, she didn't care. Reese pulled out a number of bills to pay the cabbie. "Come on," He said, and they headed out of the cab. As she got them into the building, and entered the elevator to her floor, Kara could feel a burning in her. She wanted this man, and she felt the burning heat in the juncture of her thighs. She needed him, bad, and she could feel her sex grow wet in anticipation. She leaned up to kiss Owen, nipping at his lips. "God help me, I want you." She found herself whispering. Owen's voice was closer to a growl than anything else. "You'll have me." Something about that growl was just devilish. No man should have sounded that sexy. She grabbed him by his shirt, and kissed him again. By the time the elevator sounded for her floor, his tongue had pushed into her mouth, and he had grabbed her by the shoulders. His tongue wrapped around hers, dueling. Kara had to force her mouth away from his to pant for breath. "This is my floor." She said, somehow composing herself long enough to say that. They hurried out of the elevator, and Kara showed him to her door. She reached into her pocket and fumbled with her keys for a moment. She could feel Owen looming behind her. His scent wafted into her nose, surrounding her. "God, you are evil." She murmured. "Really, really evil." She said. "Oh, yea?" His voice rumbled behind her. Kara shuddered. That man's voice was pure sin. "Yea," She had to force her voice above a whisper. She unlocked her door, and opened it. Her apartment was a symbol of her life. It was spartan, with little decoration. She'd always been about the job, and crazy hours had led to her totally eschewing any appearances of a home. "It's, uh...here it is." She said as she came in, and turned around. Owen leaned down and kissed her again. All thoughts about her home totally left her head. As they kissed, she spoke when she was able to take breaths. "Bedroom's to your right." She gasped. Owen's hands slid down to her ass, making her arch onto her toes in delight. He lifted her, pulling her up off the ground. Kara let instinct take over, wrapping her legs around his waist. The man's body was solid, built of hard muscles. "Damn, you're gorgeous." She purred. He walked them to the bedroom, nipping kisses on her neck as he carried her. Kara moaned in delight. Her neck was one of her favorite spots. Few guys before had ever really paid attention to it. Owen laid her out on the bed, and she unwound her legs from his waist. Kara sat up, and her hands sought out his body. Her hands grabbed at the fabric of her shirt pulling it out from his jeans. While she worked on pulling his shirt up, he let his jacket fall off, revealing those intricate tattoos on his arms. They made her grin. She loved them, tribal and wild. She swore she'd figure out what they were. Later. Much to her surprise, the rest of his chest was covered in tattoos. The base of it, the center on his chest, was an intricate design. It reminded Kara of a dragon, chasing after its own tail. There were more designs inside of that circle, and branching out from it. It seemed alive, almost, full of energy. Who was he? * Owen looked down at her. She wasn't freaking out. Either she wasn't paying attention, or she didn't know. He guessed it was the latter. He didn't want to dwell on that for long. He reached down, and unbuttoned her blouse, revealing the tanned skin beneath. She wore a black bra underneath. Bark at the Moon Ch. 02 A smile touched his face as she realized she didn't have tan lines. That was a pleasant surprise. His hands went lower, working at her jeans. He pulled them off quickly. Her legs were long, toned. His beast growled in appreciation, and it rumbled through his chest. Owen leaned down, kissing her. "The things I want to do to you..." He growled. His lips started on her neck, and slowly worked their way down. Her skin was soft, warm beneath him. He heard her gasp in delight. He reached her toned stomach, and he looked up at her. "Want to taste you." She looked down at him, her gray eyes glittering. "Wha?" She thought a moment. "But, no one's ever..." "Poor thing." A grin grew on his features. "Let's take care of that." Owen hooked his thumbs into the waistband of her panties, and pulled at them. Before she could act, he lowered his head, dragging his tongue across the lips of her sex. A gasp escaped Kara's throat, and he chuckled. He pierced her sex with his tongue, tasting her cream. She tasted delightful, like cream. Her hips arched up off the mattress, and Owen quickly took advtange of it. His hands slipped beneath her, cupping her ass. His fingers clenched at the tight, soft skin as he continued to lap at her. "Owen, God," She groaned, and her hands moved to grab his shoulders. "Keep going." He was more than glad to oblige. His tongue moved to flick across her clit, teasing the little nub. He continued for several minutes, licking and teasing. The sounds coming from Kara slowly rose from moans to open cries. Kara thrashed on the bed, crying in need for him. He lifted his head, looking down at her. Her cheeks were flushed with pleasure, and sometime in this she'd worked her bra off, revealing her perky breasts. "Why'd you stop?" She asked him, her breathing labored. He grinned. "Because I've got something better in mind." "Oh," She grinned, and sat up, reaching to unwork his belt. Owen let her, watching her work. Her nimble fingers worked at his jeans, and worked them off. He grunted a bit as she pulled his jeans and boxers down, freeing his erection. "Yum," She purred. Owen couldn't wait. He pushed her back down to the bed, and was on her. His hands parted her thighs. "Need you,' He growled. "Then take me." Kara pleaded. "I don't want to wait." He took himself in his hand, and guided his cock into her sex. She was heaven around his shaft. Tight, wet, and hot. Owen wanted to go slow, but the beast wanted different. His hips surged forward, burying ever last inch into her, summoning a gasp from Kara. "Oh my God," She moaned, gasping his name. Everything she did seemed to spur him on. He started a fast, hard pace. His hips drove into her, withdrawing and thrusting almost his entire length, his balls slapping against her ass on each thrust. Owen pinned his hands above her head, and lowered his head to her chest. His tongue assaulted her breasts, licking and nipping at her nipples. She wrapped around her legs around his waist, her heels digging at his ass. Owen's voice came out as a growl, rumbling. * "Yea, Kara, that's it, baby." The words rumbled through Kara's very being. Kara had never been one to lose control. She'd never let herself go before, especially in the sack. But God help her, she loved it. There was nothing small about this man. His body loomed over hers, his powerful hips driving into her with thrusts that shook her entire body. He'd had her pinned, holding her hands above her head. Kara writhed against him. She struggled against Owen, not because she wanted to be free. She wanted to challenge him, on some level. She knew she was approaching her peak, and she wanted more, wanted to be pushed over the edge. "More, more!" She pleaded. His pace increased, and quickly, her core clenched around him, and she screamed to the ceiling, calling out his name. "Owen, YES! Fuck me!" Owen growled again, more beast than man, and that only served to excite her further. She panted, tightening her thighs around him, digging her heels in. Then, out of seemingly nowhere, he buried himself into her, with one deep thrust. Kara screamed, feeling herself completely utterly filled. But it didn't stop there. Something, something seemed to be going on. She felt like she was being stretched even further, like he was growing even more thick. It excited her beyond belief, and she climaxed again before she even knew what was going on, her pussy clenching and releasing, like she was trying to milk his cock. She felt warm, thick bursts inside of her, his warm seed. His body lowered over hers, and she felt his presence, completely overcoming her. Kara basked in it, enjoying the high of orgasms, chained one after the other. This man was a freaking demon, angel, or something in between. His climax seemed to last for ages, him buried in her, stretching her, filling her womb. "Shit, Owen," She murmured. "It's okay, Kara, I've got you." But that was the part that worried her. He had her. *** Well, thanks for reading! Please review, comment, and give me your thoughts! Stay tuned for more. Bark at the Moon Ch. 03 Well, well, well, here we are again. Kara and Jason's adventures continue. As always, please read, review, and comment! Oh, and of course, enjoy. * Kara woke up next to a warm body. That was different. She didn't question it for the first few moments. She hadn't done that in eons. She blinked her eyes open, and looked down at him. In the morning sunlight, Owen was even more fantastic. His tanned skin was marked every once in a while with a scar. They weren't all the same. Kara knew from her experience that they were wounds from fights. A few slashes, punctures, and even a gunshot. The scars interrupted the massive overlay of tattoos that sprawled across his torso. From the dragon on his chest to the Celtic knots that sprawled across his arm, the body art he wore was intriguing. "Males have no right being that sexy." She grumbled. As she sat up, the covers fell away from them, revealing more of his body, from his delicious abs to his delicious manhood. She stared a long moment at his body, and felt a warm little shudder run through her. When did she turn into Kara the Horny Cop? She sighed, and gazed at him. She'd known him less than a day, but she'd slept with him last night. And with her training officer? That was a big faux pas. What a freaking waste. She'd had the best sexual experience of her life, and here she was, on the morning after freaking out that IAB would totally ruin her if it ever got out. But even beneath that little worry over Internal Affairs, the fact that she'd slept with a relative stranger, and and the whole deal with her case, she felt lust stirring. Kara desired this man, even past the whole fact that he was a werewolf, older than her, and a total stranger. "Hell, already screwed." She murmured to herself, and Kara lowered her head. She wrapped her hand around his thick shaft. She stroked it, working her hand from tip to base. A groan came from Owen, and he stirred in his sleep. That only encouraged her. She extended her tongue, and flicked it across the thick purple head of his cock. That got Owen awake. The burly man shot up from sleep, sitting up. "What the..." He froze when he saw her, licking at him. "Oh, you devil." "Good morning," Kara purred, and looked up to him. Their eyes connected a moment, and his dark eyes flickered with lust,. Seeing it, and taking that as encouragement, she lowered her mouth over him. "Oh, fuck," Owen moaned, arching his hips up as she slid her mouth down over his shaft. He bobbed her head, sucking and licking. "Kara..." She looked up, and her lips slid off of his haft, making a little pop as they came free. "Yes?" She smirked. "We really need to be going into the station." He grunted. "And if you keep doing that, we won't leave here til noon." "That so bad?" Kara smirked as she sat back, looking up at him. "It is when we've got a killer to catch." He brought out a hand, cupping her chin. "Come on, let's get you showered up." *** Jason Archer woke up with a splitting headache. His immediate thought was to wonder what had happened the previous night. Iris Nash, the club, and that...whatever the hell he was, Rico. He'd had a bag put over his head, but after that, it was rather blurry. He supposed someone had knocked him out at some point, because his head rung like a whole monastery of bells. He blinked his eyes open. He was in a basement, he guessed. Now that was weird. Most buildings in San Francisco didn't have basements. In a city known for its earthquakes, that was tempting fate. His hands weren't bound, which was a surprise. His legs were shaky, so he didn't try standing. He'd been dumped, rather unceremoniously, on the floor. Jason wanted to instinctively call out for help, but he knew that someone had to have been guarding outside, waiting for him to wake. He looked around. There was a small window that brought light in. He couldn't hear anything in particular, so he wondered if he was just in a quiet neighborhood. The room itself was empty, with a concrete floor. Someone had laid out a blanket for him to lay on, but apart from that, there was nothing very interesting about the room. Seeing that he wasn't going to learn anything else now, he called out. "Hello? Anyone here?" He waited a minute, and the door opened. Iris Nash strode in, walking down the steps into the basement. Jason had been able to bring himself up to his knees, at least, by then. "Good morning, Jason." The auburn-haired woman was wearing sunglasses again. She apparently hadn't changed since the previous night. "Nice to see you awake. Tell me, how are you?" He shot her as mean a glance as he could muster. Which, in his current state, wasn't much. "I've been freaking kidnapped. How do you think I am?" "Well, I suppose that I do owe you an explanation." She brushed back her jacket, revealing two holsters. One of them was a pistol, another a taser. "By the way, just in case you get any ideas. I won't kill you, and as much as I hate to damage a perfect specimen of man like yourself, I'll taser you. Capiesch?" He nodded. "Good. Now, let's begin. Do you know what Rico is?" Jason nodded again. "I've been on the reporting beat long enough to know about the dirty little secret of the Arcane community." He'd always wanted to tell Kara about that, but he'd never know how to break it to her. I mean, how did you tell someone that the supernatural was real? Kara would have probably laughed at him, and told him that one of his coworkers was just a pothead who had seen something funny. "Rico's a vampire." She smiled. "Very god. And I'm a werewolf, for reference's sake." She said. "But you didn't pick up on that. Interesting. But, then again, I suppose you wouldn't have. No, not with your little...difficulty." "Difficulty?" Jason then stood, forcing his knees not to give. "What the hell do you mean?" "You really don't know, do you?" She murmured. 'Fascinating." "What?" He shook his head. "What don't I know?" "You're a reporter." Iris looked at him over the top of her sunglasses. "You never looked into your parents?" Now Jason wished he had his gun. "Don't talk about my parents." He snapped. "You shut your mouth." "You don't know..." Iris snickered. "Honey, your parents, they were one of us." Jason lunged forward. He was hurt, tired, and off his game. But rage let him fly anyways. Iris side-stepped him, and she was behind him in a moment. She pinned him against the wall of the basement. He could feel her teeth at his neck, scraping against the skin. "I'm saying, Jason, that your momma and daddy were fucking weres." She growled. "In fact, your daddy was an alpha wolf, one of the roughest around." He shook his head. "No, no, that's not possible. This whole shit's genetic. If they were shapeshifters, I would be too." A laugh bubbled from Iris. "Yea, that's usually the case. But, for some reason, you got a little bug in the genetics. For some reason, you didn't get the puppy genes. See, here, my employer wants that power. New weres are hard to come by." "And what do you get out of this?" I asked. "Seriously, what's he paying you? I've got some stashed away." Iris's voice was just a whisper in his ear, but it scared the living crap out of him. "Why, Jason, it's you." She flipped him around, pinning his back to the wall. She took off her sunglasses. Her green eyes flashed, boring into his with a primal sort of energy. "He's paying me with you." "That's just sick." Jason whispered. "What the hell is so special about me?" "Mama and Papa Archer were very special." She said. "You have a lot of potential buried away. I want to control that." Jason fumed. He'd been powerless for most of his childhood. Orphaned, only a fierce protective instinct had saved him from being separated from his sister in foster care. When he'd become independent, he'd told himself he'd never be controlled by anyone ever again. And here this bitch was, wanting to take that away. Jason kneed her in the stomach. A guy didn't usually think of that. It was a woman's move, but Jason wasn't above the move. Women wouldn't expect that, ever. Iris bowled over, clutching at her stomach. Taking the opportunity, Jason ran to the stairs. Wherever this led, it was better than the basement, and all the horror. He ran up to the door, and opened it up. He was in a small house, he guessed, from the linoleum beneath his feet, in a hallway at the back of the house. He rushed down the hallway, into a kitchen. It was dirty, unmaintained. He guessed that it was some sort of place to grill people, used by mobs, or whoever. He ran from the kitchen to the front door, which he spied at the end of another hallway. But before he could take three more steps, he felt something akin to a freight train slam into him, knocking him down to the floor. "You won't escape me that easily." He felt Iris's athletic body pressing into his back. "I'm not someone who isn't used to getting what she wants. Struggling did Jason very little good. "I'm not going to be a part of this. I've had enough of this twisted game!" "This is no game." Jason heard the click of something metallic behind him. Before he could even try to look over his shoulder, the metallic click and cold sensation of metal were around his wrists. "You fucking handcuffed me?" He snarled. "Oh, don't worry, not for long, not if this works." She lifted off of him, and Jason immediately started to thrash, trying to turn himself over. By the time he could, he saw what 'this' precisely was. Iris was standing over him, with a syringe in her hand. He shuddered, instinctively knowing that whatever it was, it couldn't be good. "What...what the hell is that?" "A little cocktail my employer supplied me with. It's a unique cocktail, a potion actually, made by some witch. The best way to describe is as an...Arcane booster. I give you my happy little friend here, and well, some of that latent therianthropy will come to bloom." Jason thrashed even harder. Iris would have none of it. She forced him back down onto his back, leaving the two of them staring at each other. She leaned down, so their faces nearly touched. Jason tried biting at her face. "Feisty, so feisty." She purred. "Your beast is magnificent, and it's still latent." The needle pressed against his skin. "Don't worry, love, it'll begin soon." She chuckled. "This will hurt like fucking hell." It did. The needle felt like a lance of fire, boring into his arm. He wasn't a stranger to needles. He'd been in the hospital before. But this seemed so wrong, so terrible. He could feel the solution, whatever it was, boring into his body, burning him, changing him. Jason screamed, a cry of pain. He didn't know how it was he didn't black out. He went through a number of stages. Crying, whimpering, roaring, shouting. He could feel just the slightest changers, in his musculature, in his bones. The worst change was in his mind. Inside, he could feel something, almost like a second heart beating with his. In his head, it was instincts, howling at him to fight, to escape. It was a spirit that was untamed, unruled by any set of laws but survival and instinct. It burrowed into his mind, as if it was trying to change him, how he thought, how he looked at the world. At some point in this process, he felt his wrists, scraping against his shackles. The cuffs cut into his arms, biting and gnashing at his flesh. But then, suddenly, he heard a snap. The tension of the cuffs was gone, though he could feel the metal still against his wrists. They no longer scratched at him, though. The beast took the lead, and Jason just hung along for the ride. He lunged off the ground at Iris, knocking her onto her back. He moved with a speed, a beautiful violence, that he'd never imagined before. He pinned her down to the floor by her shoulders. The handcuffs dangled from his wrists, the chain between them shattered. Iris had a look of pleasure, of accomplishment, in her forest green eyes. "YES!" She laughed. "It's glorious." Iris overpowered him, pushing with a strength that he knew was from her own beast. They fumbled on the ground for a long moment until they rolled onto the carpet of the living room. They both scratched, punched, and hit each other as best as they could. It ended with Iris on top of him. Jason tried to lift his head up to head butt her, but as he did. She grabbed the back of his neck. "You are a feisty man," She growled. "I love it." Before Jason could respond, she kissed him. Her lips crushed to his, and a sensation of lust poured through him. His entire body seemed to respond to the kiss, not the fact that he'd been fighting her just a second ago. He felt his jeans grow uncomfortably tight, arousal stirring him. When she broke the kiss, he growled. "The fuck has gotten into you?" He hissed. "You psycho," "You bet." She chuckled. "Come on, tell me that there isn't a part of you that doesn't absolutely want it." The worst part was, Jason knew he couldn't say it. The beast, the newly formed part of him, wanted nothing more than payback in the most primal, primitive way it could manage. And Jason really didn't want to admit it. "Fuck you." He said. "That's the idea." She purred. "Again and again. I told you I wanted you, Jason." They kissed again, and this time Jason didn't fight it. Her tongue pushed against his mouth, and he let it enter. Their tongues twisted, dueling with each other. Reason left Jason's mind, and his hands grabbed at her sides. His hands grasped at the material of her shirt, pulling on it. Her shirt came up and her toned stomach came into his view. Jason had to admit, she was gorgeous. She wore a black bra, cupping her round breasts. Her body was lean, athletic. He kissed her again, and again their tongues attacked each other. Her hands grabbed at his shirt, unbuttoning it fast. They pulled at each other's clothes. She tossed his shirt away, and he worked at her pistol belt. For a moment, only a fleeting one, did he think about going for the pistol or the tazer. Iris unbuttoned her jeans, and together, they worked them off her long legs. "That's it," Iris said, her voice still in a purr. "Shut up," He grunted, and he rolled them over, so he was on top of her. He slid a hand between her thighs, and found her bare sex there. "No panties, why am I not surprised?" "Makes me feel all naughty." She sneered. Jason worked his belt off, and then pulled his pants down. Iris didn't want to wait, and she grabbed his hips, pulling him flush against her with his jeans around his legs. "Christ," He grunted. Iris's hips rocked against him, and they ground hips against each other. "Want you in me." She murmured. He was more than glad to oblige. Jason took himself in hand, and guided himself into her. She was warm, tight, wet. "Fuck," He growled. "Yea," Iris moaned, and her hands gripped his hips, pulling him down. Jason didn't want any nice foreplay. He started to thrust, driving himself into her. Their eyes met, and he saw hers, burning with lust. She rocked her hips back, and they started into a fast, hungry pace. She leaned her head up, nipping at his chest. Those nips, as Jason started to grab her hands and pin them above her head, quickly turned to full bites. Skin slapped against skin, and Jason pounded into her with reckless abandon. He thrust again and again, each as fantastic as the last. Iris slowly started to relax, her hips becoming the only part of her body that moved. Every thrust drew a whimper, a growl, or a purr from her. Jason knew he hated this woman for what she'd done. She'd lied to him, stabbed him in the back, and done something to him he couldn't even begin to describe. But even still, he couldn't help but feel at least an animal lust from her. What the fuck is wrong with me? He asked himself. And then, like someone answering, the beast inside of him spoke. Asserting. He was taking revenge in the way of the jungle. He was asserting his dominance, in the way a male took a female. Even if he wasn't paying any particular attention to her pleasure, Iris's moans slowly grew shorter, higher. Her breath hitched several times, and finally, in a long, wordless moan, she climaxed. Her pussy spasmed, wrapping around him and milking his cock's length. Jason knew he wouldn't last much longer than that. He tossed his head back, grunts falling from his throat in rough, excited sounds. His climax was glorious, exploding in him with delicious pleasure. His balls clenched, and his cock spurted long and hard into her, filling her. Iris's hips clenched around his waist, and she started to pant in his ear. "I was right...so right." And Jason knew in that instant, he was in way over his head. *** Kara and Owen-she thought of him as Owen now- drove up to the station. They'd gotten a cap, gotten Owen's car back, and driven to the precinct. The two of them hadn't talked much, but Kara's mind was racing. What would the other cops think of them coming in at the same time? Was she going to do the walk of shame in front of the detective's floor? "How do you take your coffee?" Owen asked as they parked in the lot. "My coffee?" She arched an eyebrow. "Uh, lots of milk and foo'foo'ed up." "All right." He smirked, and that smirk sent a shiver down Kara's spine, in a fantastic way. "I'm going to go grab coffee for us, and I'll be in about ten. Save us from the awkwardness. That all right?" She chuckled. This man was fantastic, really. "All right. I'll be seeing you then." They parted ways, and Kara headed into the statino. She'd dressed a bit slightly less professionally than she had yesterday, and replaced her shoes with flats. If it had been up to her, she'd have worn boots, but that was a bit unbecoming of a detective. She headed up to the detective's floor, and booted up her computer. She started looking over the files that the ME's office had came through, and noticed an email from the tech department. She read it, and saw that the guys with glasses had popped into her email. They'd found a number of emails from a newsletter for a club in town, Nox, as well as a few from friends in San Francisco. She memorized the two names that also mentioned Nox; Rebecca Lin, Kyle Quinn. "Is Owen Reese in?" A male voice brought her out from her deep train of thought. She looked up. The man in front of her must have been from Ad Vice, she was sure of it. Detectives didn't look like they were gangbangers. He had tanned skin, but light enough that she guessed he was Hispanic, not Latino. He wore a black muscle tee, jeans, and wore his badge and holster on his belt. He had a single tattoo on his arm, which Kara guessed was military in origin. And the man was built. He was stacked like Owen was, and he had dark, intense features. His brown eyes scanned her. Kara thought it was rather odd, though, that the man did absolutely nothing for her. Maybe her reawakened libido had been sated. Maybe there was just something about him. "Uh, no," She said. "You are?" He laughed. "Sorry, forgot. You're Owen's new partner, right?" He extended a hand. "Zach Santiago. I'm one of the other Major Case detectives." "Serious?" She laughed. "You look like a vice cop." A laugh escaped Santiago. "Yea, I was. I was one of the first guys to get dragged into this circus." Owen's voice came from behind him. "Because everyone else wanted you tossed to the fishes of IAB." Zach smiled, and turned around to face Owen. He was holding two coffees in his hand, one of which he set in front of Kara. "Yea, well, at least I get to use my unique talents. Vice had no appreciation." Santiago smirked. "And what exactly do you do?" Kara asked, blowing on her coffee before taking a sip. "Santiago here is our Arcane specialist." Owen lowered his voice to the 'Major Case' volume, which he seemed to do whenever he didn't want to hear the goings-on, weird as they were, about their department. "He's a witch." Bark at the Moon Ch. 03 Kara's brow furrowed in confusion. "Wait, a...witch? I thought witches were women." She said. "Shouldn't you be a...wizard, or something:?" Santiago shrugged. "Wouldn't call a female vampire anything different, and I wouldn't dare call a female were a bitch." He smirked. "Well, except for your sister, Owen." A growl bubbled in Owen's throat, the one that Kara had quickly come to associate last night with his were side. "Watch how you talk about my family, Santiago." He cleared his throat. "Anyways, Santiago, you hear about the body we pulled yesterday?" At his shake of the head, Owen continued. "Real nasty work. Our killer carved a pentagram on her back, and a bunch of symbols. He opened up a drawer in his desk, and pulled out the file, and the picture of Felicia Brewer's back. "Think you can ID some of those symbols?" "At a glance?" Zach scanned the picture. "The center symbol is the one that's interesting. It's demonic, definitely." He took the picture, and sat down in the chair behind Owen's desk, drawing another growl, which Santiago simply ignored. "I think that, using the outer symbols, and the other five in the star, our killer is trying to draw power or appease whatever demon uses this symbol." Owen swallowed. "That is definitely not good." "Wait, a demon." Kara looked between the two of them. "Like, are we talking about Exorcist shit here?" "Think more like Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Charmed demons. Monsters that get summoned from another dimension, take corporeal form, and kill, pillage, and terrorize." Santiago said. "And if this demon wants a human sacrifice for its rituals, to appease it, we're talking about one with either a lot of power, or a really big ego." He shook his head. "Fuck me, I don't like this." The phone on the desk rang, breaking the moment. Owen snatched up the phone. "Yes?" He paused a moment. "Captain. Yes, sir. I'll be right up. Do you want...Understood." He hung up. "That was the Captain. He wants me upstairs." He looked to Santiago. "Zach, take her to see Caitlyn." "Caitlyn?" He chuckled. "Oh, she's going to like you, Archer." "Why's that?" Kara asked, curious now. Zach chuckled. "Because I've never met a tough gal the old hag O'Dwyer didn't like." *** Owen left Santiago to take Kara to Caitlyn. He smirked, wondering what Kara would think of the older witch. He, however, had something much older, and much more dangerous, to attend to. He took the stairs up to the fourth floor, where the larger offices were. The Captain ran everything from that office. He wasn't always in. He liked being in the field, with the other MCU officers. Kara had yet to meet the other half-dozen detectives in the unit, but she would in due time. When she met the Captain, though, was entirely up to the Captain. He walked through the long row of glass-walled offices. He passed Captain Creegan's office, and waved to him. The director of Sex Crimes waved back half-heartedly. He was on the phone, as he usually was. He passed one of the Assistant District Attorneys, probably there to visit one of the other Captains concerning a case. They weren't usually there for the Captain. He stopped at the office, and knocked three times. That was the first rule. You knocked three times for the Captain. "Enter." was the answer. The voice was cool, commanding. He'd never heard the Captain raise a voice in anger. He was one of the smoothest operators Owen had ever met. Owen opened the door, and walked in. The Captain was sitting behind his desk. He wasn't like any of the other department heads. The Captain looked only in his early thirties. Hell, he looked younger than Owen by a good few years. His dark hair was trimmed professionally, and he wore a suit that probably cost what Owen made in two months. His features were dark, handsome. Owen knew just how much of a womanizer the Captain was. He score more than Owen, Santiago, and the rest of the detectives in MCU combined. And with two werewolves, and a vampire on staff, that was no lean feat. "Owen," He said, and with one hand gestured to one of the chairs. "Sit down, man." Owen nodded. "What's up, Nick?" Only people who met the Captain in person could call him by his name. That was the second rule. Owen didn't know if he had a last name. Just Nick. "How's Kara Archer working out?" "Rather good, sir." He nodded. "She's smart, and a good cop." "And you slept with her." Nick grinned. "Don't even lie. You're wearing the same shirt as yesterday, and I know you drove together this morning." Owen cussed under his breath. "Fuck me. How you do that, I won't ever figure out." The Captain's habits of information-gathering were ridiculous. He knew just about everything about his detectives. "It's not for you to know, Owen. But, it is good. Don't make it a one-night stand." He shook his head. "There's something about her, Nick. I can't explain it." "She's one of your kind. Their parents were both alphas. They've got serious punch in them, it just hasn't been tapped." "That's why you tapped Kara for this unit." He frowned. "But she doesn't know." "No," The Captain shook his head. "There's a trigger for her abilities, one we haven't figured out. But you're going to protect her." "Damn straight I am." He growled, his voice almost violent. "I won't let anyone touch her." "Good man," Nick smirked. "But Kara brings me to another matter." He said. "She has a brother." "Yea, some journalist for the Shield." He remarked. "What about him? He inherited too, I'm guessing." Nick nodded. "Yea, and this brother of hers has landed in a spot of trouble. My contact in the Phantoms reported back with this little tidbit. He was trying to do a piece on Bliss, and ended up nabbed by...guess who?" The glint in the Captain's eye told Owen all he needed to know. "It's Iris, isn't it?" Nick smiled. "Your sister's at it again, Owen. Jason Archer is not a man I want hurt. I want his sister to work for our team, and that means keeping her brother safe." "Yes, sir," Owen said. "Where'd she take him?" "A small, abandoned house. I'll leave it to your discretion what to do with your sister, but Jason Archer is to be retrieved." Nick's dark eyes met Owen's. "Am I understood?" Owen only nodded. He got the address from Nick, and went down to his car. Kara had already left with Santiago, which saved him the trouble of explaining to her that her brother had been kidnapped by a semi-insane werebitch who just happened to be his sister. That, of course, begged the question of what Iris's game was. She did something, every once in a while. Petty crime, mostly. She was an unstable member of the were community, though, but no alpha would declare her an outlaw. Sex was one of Iris's favorite weapons to use in manipulation. No male had taken her for a mate, mostly by her own wishes. He wondered if any man would take her. Killing her made more sense. She was a danger to society, and the race. He drove on down to the address, and opened up the glove box in the car. He took out a small box of ammunition. It was the specialty ammo, which was only issued to MCU. Sure, a vampire or a were went down to a few bullets, but silver was more efficient, and stemmed their regenerative capabilities. He loaded the silver rounds into a magazine, and loaded the magazine. Owen got out of the car, and headed up to the front door. He could smell several things from the house. It was dirty, run down. Hints of mold touched his nose. But underneath that, he could smell sweat, blood, and sex. Owen was more and more worried now at what he might find. He walked, quickly, to the front door. He summoned the strength of his beast, and kicked the front door in with little effort. Owen moved into the house, and saw in the living room, what he'd come here for. Jason archer was lying, naked, on the living room carpet. His blond hair was messy with sweat, and he had a look of pain on his features. He was curled into a ball, though even like that Owen could see the resemblance to his partner. The same blond hair, the same, strikingly dark blue eyes, and tanned skin. He had wounds across his back and what he could see of his neck. At least three of those, he knew, where the telltale punctures of were fangs. The question, though, was whether Iris had mated him, or just marked him. He sniffed the air, and found the scent of pot coming from the kitchen. He turned, and saw Iris sitting in a chair in the kitchen. "Hey, big brother," She grinned widely. "I'd get up, but I really wouldn't for you. Besides, I just had an alpha male fuck me." She was dressed in her jeans, bra, and an unbuttoned shirt. Owen took a step forward, gun in his hand. "What did you do?" "Brought out the beast in him." She smirked. "You'd be amazed what the right potions can do. I didn't know the right trigger, so I pumped him with this shit, and wowie." She grinned. "Haven't had a ride like that in ages." Owen racked the slide of the pistol, and pointed the gun at her. "Did you mate him?" He growled. "No, unfortunately." She said. "But I always like to mark what is mine." Iris's voice purred, like a sated animal. It was all she was, Owen told himself. The beast sat too closely to Iris, and she let it rule her. "He isn't yours." He said. "An alpha submits to no woman. If he is an alpha, like you said..." She laughed. "Maybe. My employer told me about him. Son of two of the most powerful weres in the last half-century. He's got to be an alpha. Especially with the way he took me." "Who's your employer?" Owen growled. "Tell me, Iris." "Um, no." She stood up, slowly. "I'm out. You can take Jason. I'm done with him, for now." She said. "You won't find out who my employer is, and we both know you won't shoot me. So, I'm leaving, and I'll be seeing you around. Okay?" Owen growled. She knew him too well. He couldn't kill his own blood, he knew that. Not even if his own blood was a psychotic bitch. He watched as she walked out, back into the living room, and crouched next to Jason. She stroked his hair, and whispered something into his ear. *** Jason came to, eventually, in a moving car. He blinked his eyes open. He was driving through a bad part of town, or maybe out of it. The car smelled of coffee, fast food, and...Kara's perfume. He looked around, to the driver's seat. Sitting there was a big dark-haired man. "Who the fuck are you?" Jason croaked. A little chuckle escaped the man's lips. "I'm Owen. I'm your sister's partner. I work in the Major Case Unit." "Owen." He murmured. Jason remembered his file, when he'd snuck a look at it. "Why are you here, and not my sister?" "Your sister's working a case. I was asked to bring you out of the mess you'd gotten yourself into." Owen didn't look from the road. "Does...does she know?" Jason found himself asking, his voice quiet. "No, I haven't told her. The Captain wanted you safe. You're family of one of our cops." "Even if I am a two-bit journalist from a paper that makes its subscriptions by pandering to a paranoid fanbase that hates the government?" Owen chuckled. "I know you're not a bad type." "Well, thanks," He grunted, and Jason sunk further into the seat. "So, what's your deal? She was a werewolf." He could smell something about the man. He smelled, just slightly, like Iris. When could he smell so well, he wondered. The beast inside of him rumbled that was another change he would learn to deal with. "Yea, and I'm her brother." Owen growled. "I'm a werewolf too." "Oh." Jason nodded. "And now, I guess I am too." He whispered. "What can I expect?" "You're going to go through a lot of changes. That drug that she gave you, it's a potion. Which means we'll have to take you to a witch or something to figure out how else it might effect you. But there are some things you'll know immediately. You're going to experience an increased libido, some physical...changes., and some psychological." Jason looked inquisitively to Owen. "Define...changes." "Best we wait until we stop and get some food in you to explain." He said. He pulled up to a McDonald's. "Listen, Jason, Iris said something to you before she left, did you hear it?" He thought back, and knew what it was. However, he spoke carefully. "What she said...she was damn serious about it. Owen, you have to promise, whatever you can do to stop her, you have to." Owen's eyes centered in on Jason's. "What did she say, Jason?" "Kara's next." *** Thanks for reading, as always! I'm sorry for the slow posting, but life gets in the way, as I have moved recently. Please, leave a comment, a review, and a nice word or two! I love hearing from you! Bark at the Moon Ch. 04 Hey, everyone, I'm back with Chapter 4 of our intrepid Arcanes. I hope you all enjoy it, and please, do leave a comment and a review. I do enjoy hearing from you all! Chapter 4 Kara sat in the passenger's seat of Santiago's car. It carried the smell of takeout and coffee in it. They'd been quiet as they drove, but Kara couldn't stand the silence. "So tell me about O'Dwyer." She said. Zach shrugged. "Where do you want to start?" "Well, she's a witch, right?" Kara then added. "Like you?" "No, definitely not like me." He chuckled. "Or, rather, I'm not like her. I've stopped using my powers, for the most part. She's very powerful." "Why did you stop using your powers?" Kara asked. "I mean, magic has got to come in quite a bit handy, being a detective and all." He shook his head. "Ever hear about the tenants of pagan faith? The two big ones are," His voice changed, reciting now. "An' it harm none, do what ye will.' Magic isn't a tool of destruction, or it's not supposed to be. As for the other main tenant, the rule of three." Kara knew this one. "Whatever you do, comes back to you threefold." Santiago's voice went deadly quiet. "I killed someone with magic, Archer. There are very few things in the metaphysics of the universe worse than that." The tone of his voice sent shivers down her spine. A million questions raced through Kara's head. The first one sprung from her lips before she'd considered how rude, hurtful, or violating it might be. "Who?" Santiago's voice turned to steel. "My lover." Kara decided that she should just shut up, but Santiago continued. "I was mated to a vampire. Did Owen explain that little bit to you, mating?" Kara shook her head. "Uh, no. I'm going to guess it means pretty much what it sounds like?" "Arcanes are spiritually drawn to certain people. Soul partners, mates, they're someone who speaks to the Arcane in us. It's considered a blessing to find your mate." Even behind the sunglasses Santiago was wearing, Kara could feel the intensity burning in his eyes. The man was fiercely emotional. "What happened?" She whispered. "She was a vampire here in San Francisco. Hair like the sun. We were deeply, intensely in love. I'm old, Kara. Witches live for a very long time. In eighty years, I had never been as deeply, powerfully attracted to a woman." His voice was losing some of the California accent, and slipping to something straight from Europe. "What...what happened?" "I found that even love doesn't change some things. She was a vicious woman, when she would get angry. And I knew that, outside of the bed, she was caught up in all the wrong things for a Vice cop's lover." He turned the car into a parking space, and shut off the engine. "I found out, Kara, that she'd killed three men, drained them dry. "From there, there wasn't much of a choice in my mind. Witches feel emotions, especially strong ones like that, intensely. Hate clouded my judgment. I burned her alive, Kara. And that fire killed two other people." "That's why you were being investigated by Internal Affairs." "Yea. By all rights, I was a dead man. There wasn't any physical evidence, but even still, they could have put me away for life. And then the Captain came." "The Captain?" "Cap offered me a fresh slate. Internal Affairs would get off my case, and I would work for him. That's how I became the third MCU detective." "Santiago, I..." Hell, what did someone say to something like that? "Don't tell anyone about this, Archer. I'm telling you now so you'll have the full story. People around the precinct like to talk, and it's best you hear the worst of it from the source." He turned his head, looked past her onto the street. "And you'll be prepared if O'Dwyer brings it up." She looked to the shop. It was a New Age-y place called Wyrd. "Is this Miss O'Dwyer's place?" She asked. "Yea. Ready?" Kara nodded. "Let's go." They got out of the car, and Zach seemed to be just as composed as he'd been before. Impressive, Kara thought. The man seemed rather good at containing emotions. She wondered if all witches were like that. They walked inside the store, where Kara was greeted with a strong, herbal scent. Wyrd wasn't a very pretty shop. It was, however, functional, with shelves lining the walls, packed to the brim with any number of items. Kara's eyes scanned the aisles of the store. There were two people in the store who were browsing, an older woman and a girl who looked young enough to still be in high school. Santiago, however, walked them to the counter. Kara knew, immediately, that the woman behind the counter was Caitlin O'Dwyer. She was a lovely woman, with creamy pale skin, and dark hair. Her features were delicate, though her green eyes burned with a life of their own. She wore a t-shirt, a long skirt, and combat boots. "Hello, Zach." Her eyes turned to Kara. "And you, I don't know you." Her voice held a lilting quality to it, and Kara quickly guessed that her name wasn't the only thing Irish. "No, ma'am, I'm Inspector Kara Archer, Major Cases." She nodded to her. "Indeed," Her green eyes flicked back to Santiago. "She's a pretty one. How new are you, love?" "I just started Major Cases yesterday." "Yesterday?" She arched an eyebrow. "And are you Inspector Santiago's partner? I'd say I would be surprised. He's not the type to work with a partner, usually." "I'm Owen Reese's partner, actually. Santiago's borrowing me for the day." "Oh, Owen?" Her eyes swept over Kara. "Mm, interesting. You have a very nice aura about you." Kara furrowed her brow. "Aura?" Caitlin nodded. "Witches can see auras around people, determine their nature, their energies. You have a very positive one. Natural, alive." "Glad I've got the good mojo." Kara chuckled a little. "Now, uh, we came here to talk to you about something involving a case." She smirked. "Of course, it's always a case." She stepped up closer to the counter, extending a hand. "All right, let me see it." Kara reached into her jacket, pulling out the photograph of the carvings on Felicia Brewer's skin. "Here we go," She said, and set the photo into Caitlin's hands. She brought the photo up to her eyes, and started to look over it. "This. This is weird." She whispered, her voice soft with curiosity. "What is it?" Zach asked. "I mean, I know it's demonic, but beyond that, I don't know any of this." "Because no one's used these symbols for decades." She said, then looked up from the picture to the both of them. "It's been a while. Last time I saw these were in the twenties." "Wait, the twenties?" Kara asked, astonished. "She knows we witches live long, right?" Kara crossed her arms across her chest. "I'd appreciate you not speaking as if I weren't here. I know about that, yea, at least to some extent. I just didn't think..." She whistled. "You don't look like you were around in the twenties." "Oddly polite," She laughed. "But, anyways, yes. The roaring twenties were quite the time for demonic cults. I encountered one that was using very similar signs in Hartford." She reached down to the counter, and pulled on some glasses. "Can you two fine officers watch over the store for a moment? I'm going to go into the back and take a look." "Certainly," Santiago said, bowing his head politely. "We'll wait here." "Of course you will," She chuckled, and she walked away from the counter towards the back of the store, her hips swishing. Something in Kara admired her, definitely. She was confident, mysterious, and had her own powerful presence. "She's something else, isn't she?" She whistled, once she was sure that Caitlin was in the back room. "Yea," He chuckled. "Cat is well, crazy powerful, and sort of a leader of the community for civilian Arcanes." Kara couldn't help but smirk. "Are you hitting that?" She asked. Zach looked at her for a second with an inquisitive look before laughing. "Hell no," He said. "Witches don't really go well with witches." He said. "We're too much alike." "But there is something there." Kara noted. "She pulled me out of a bad place. Any feelings I have towards her are pretty platonic, but she's earned my respect." "Interesting," She murmured, and she waited for Caitlin to return. She had with her a large tome, which she was carrying under an arm. "Well, it looks like I've found it. It was a good thing my memory stretches back that far, lovelies, as this one is rather rare." She set the book down on the counter, and opened it up, flipping it open. She had it opened to a page, which looked to be faded, yellowed, and old. "Here," Caitlin said. "We're dealing with a demon, a bottom feeder." "What's a bottom feeder?" Kara asked. "One of the worst kinds." She said. "Demons are, for the most part, stuck in other dimensions. They're entities that are bound to other realms. A bottom feeder, however, is what we call a demon that can hug our dimension, get close enough to influence it and people susceptible to it." "And just who is susceptible to one of these bottom feeders?" Kara asked. "The mentally unstable, particularly Arcanes." Santiago said. "That definitely narrows the field. However, those particular Arcanes aren't really particularly active in the community. For all we know it's a vampire who's staying in someone's closet." "Would they have been able to move the body there, though? It was pretty sunny." "Vampires get sunburnt on a bad day," Caitlin said. "But apart from that, they're not really affected by it." She looked to Santiago. "It could have been a witch, or someone with some minor magical talent. The ones I dealt with before were a couple college student with almost no magical ability, but the demon had been influencing their minds, getting them to commit the ritual murders." "Wait, murders?" Santiago furrowed his brow. "They did multiple killings?" Caitlin nodded. "Yea, four women were killed like this, and each ritual added on to the demon's power. When it got enough, the cult brought it into our reality using a ritual. Thing killed five more people before I was able to take it down with the help of a few other witches." Kara sighed. "That's great, just great. So, this was just a random murder, done just because she was convenient?" "I'm sorry to say so." She said. "But I'll tap into my sources, see if anyone else has been doing research into these symbols, all right?" "Yea, thanks," Kara nodded. "I'll-" She was interrupted by the door to the store bursting open. Kara spun on her heels, hand immediately going for her gun. She stopped herself when she saw the situation. Owen was standing in the doorway, holding her brother's unmoving form. "Caitlin," Owen growled. "Got a patient for you." He spoke as if Kara wasn't even there. "Santiago, you too." He looked to Kara finally. "Wait here, just a minute, please." Kara's temper flared hot. "Just wait a minute here, what's my brother doing here? I am not just going to stand here and wait around!" "Kara," Owen said. "Time is not on his side, and I need witches more than I need his irate sister. I'll explain once we've got him stable." She wanted to hit him. That was her brother he was talking about. Kara was half-tempted to just whale into him and beat him up until he told her what was going on. But Jason's sweaty, sickly face brought her back to the present. "Fine," She hissed. She watched as Santiago and Caitlin followed Owen into the back room, feeling very helpless in that moment. * Owen knew the drill. He'd done this before. There was a small cot in the back of the room. Caitlin had been a friend of the MCU cops for years. She kept the cot whenever one of the cops had a fight with their ladies, or times were rough. Her knowledge of magicks had also come in handy when someone got an injury that needed something more than medical attention. "Care to explain to me what's going on?" Cat's voice was peaking with anger. Owen had known her long enough to realize that the Irish accent creeping into her voice was not because she was pleased with him. "Shut the door." Owen growled as he set Jason down on the cot. He turned back to face the two witches. When Cat shut the door, he answered. "This is Kara's twin, Jason. In the past twenty-four hours, my sister got her fangs into him, and apparently fucked him and turned him." "Turned him?" Santiago groaned. "Oh, you have to be fucking kidding me..." "Apparently, Jason and Kara Archer are the kids of two badass weres, and they had no idea. In fact, neither of them has changed before. But, Iris pumped him full of something, a drug it sounds like, and well, here we are with a twenty-five year old man getting a whole load of werewolf genes kicking in." Cat rolled her eyes. "Oh, you bring the interesting ones to me..." She sighed, and she walked over to the cot, grabbing an amulet on the way. "Does Kara know she's a were, Owen?" Cat asked. "No, definitely not." She said. "And we're not going to break it to her like this." Santiago rolled his eyes. "Balls. You have to be fucking kidding me, Owen. We're not keeping this from her." "Yes we are," Owen growled. "and I'll call The Captain in on this. You know I will." "Boys," Caitlin snapped. "Shut up, kindly. You can start yelling again when I've diagnosed him." Owen let out a grumble of agreement, and crossed his arms across his chest. He watched as an orange energy shone from the amulet. He could sense the magic floating through the air. Even as someone who'd been involved in the Arcane for years, he still found witches and magic to be something alien, unknown. They weren't very numerous, but powerful witches like Caitlin outstripped anything Owen could bring to bear. It made Owen, at least in part, disappointed that Santiago rejected his gift. After several minutes, Cat looked up. "I can't tell what this is, honestly. It's magic, but there's some of the black tossed in. Whatever this was, it violently awoke his beast. It's definitely an alpha, no doubt about that." "I've seen him naked." Owen said, quietly. "He didn't have our tattoos." Cat sighed. "And he should have been consumed by the beast without them." "I wasn't born an alpha," Owen said. "But after my first changes, I was impossible to control until I got my markings." He felt his chest tingle just at the mention of the power lurking inside of him. "I would've thought he'd be a feral monster by now, with how powerful it was." "I thought the tattoo was used to facilitate the change." Zach said. "I'm confused now." "For those of us who have the genetics passed down, puberty comes with the first changes. Depending on how strong our beast is," Owen said. "That influences when we get the tattoo. The tattoo not only reinforces our human side over the beast, it makes the beast stronger." Santiago nodded. "But, if he doesn't...well, what's that mean?" "It means he's something we haven't seen in hundreds of years, a naturally born were who could possibly control his beast." He looked back to Cat. "What's his beast?" "He's a coyote." She said quietly. "I could tell that much just from his aura. I was wrong, he's not an alpha. He's an omega." Owen bristled. Omegas were the outsiders of the pack. They existed outside of the structure, and were a mixed back. Iris was an omega, and one of the worse ones. More positive outcomes included bounty hunters, sheriffs for the were community, and the occasional news reporter, he guessed. "An omega, fuck." He sighed. "Well, there goes an easy integration into the pack." Owen ran a hand through his hair. "You think Kara will be the same?" Santiago asked. "Dunno, Zach," Owen shook his head. "Won't find out until she turns." Jason's words rung in his head. She's next. Whoever had hired Iris to turn Jason would be coming after His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of gunshots. * Kara was sitting behind the counter, pretty pissed at Owen. They were in the back, with her brother, who was definitely not looking great. She wanted to scream, cry, or any number of things. She'd been pacing at first, but the old lady and teenager had both gotten sick of it, and left her with an empty shop to watch. She'd forced herself to sit down, before she did something stupid like barging in there. She wanted to, badly, but whatever Owen did, she knew he had a reason. She just wasn't sure she'd like it. It had been about ten minutes when the front door to the store opened. Two men, dressed in jeans, black shirts, and jackets, walked in. They were Slavic, by Kara's guess. "You Kara Archer?" The first one, a man with slightly darker hair than the other, asked. Something about them set her on edge. She stood up from the chair, her hand drifting into her jacket. The second one, who had a scar running across his jaw, growled. "You come with us." "I don't think so." She drew her pistol, racking the slide and centering it on the man with the scar. "Get down on the ground." The two men didn't answer her. The black-haired man lunged forward, and Kara's instincts kicked in. She drew the Glock closer to her body, bringing it from his reach, and fire off a pair of shots. It was part of her training. Two to the chest, one to the head. She didn't have time to line up a headshot, so the two to the body would work just fine. But the man she'd shot didn't go down, even if Kara could see both wounds, gushing darker stains on his shirt. Both came at her, and Kara ducked out of the way. She rushed past the counter, down one of the aisles away from them. She could hear at least one of them hot on her back. Kara brought up her pistol, firing blindly behind her back. She didn't look, but she didn't hear anyone stopping, so she just kept running to the end of the aisle. However, she was quickly running out of space, and she had to turn to avoid hitting the wall. She felt a hand grab at her, and spin her around. The scarred man had a hold of her arm, and he certainly wasn't letting go. She raised her gun to take a shot, but his hand batted at her wrist. She knew the move, definitely, and Kara dropped the gun. "Son of a...." She struggled against him, and screamed. "HELP!" The man moved to take a swing at her, but the noise of the back room's door bursting open stopped him. Both Owen and Santiago were standing there, guns in hand. "Touch her again, and you'll be dead before you hit the ground." Owen growled. The man lunged, and almost immediately, a pair of shots filled the air. Two holes appeared in his head, and he slumped to the ground, like a marionette with cut strings. Kara, however, was below him as he fell, leaving her trapped beneath what she guessed was at least two hundred pounds of whatever-he-had-been. She grunted, looking up at the two of them. "I am so freaking glad you two showed up when you did." She gasped. "Jeez, I just..." Owen rushed over to her, pulling the dead man off of her. "Kara," His voice was in the same low growl that it had been before. He pulled her into his arms, holding her close against his chest. "I've got you, it's all right." Damn him, she thought as she hugged him. Just bearing near the man was calming the storm of worry in her. Why were these men coming after her? Was this connected to her brother? "What the fuck is going on?" "I'll explain when we get you somewhere safe." Owen promised, whispering into her ear. Then, she felt him turn. "Zach, get this shit cleaned up. Call the Captain if you need to. I'm taking her out of here." Santiago sighed. "Shit, man. He's not going to like this." "He can deal with me later." Owen growled. Kara couldn't wait for Owen to explain all of this. Shit, this was weirder than she'd thought a new job could ever be this bad. * Bark at the Moon Ch. 04 Jason Archer didn't remember much after the car ride. He remembered some people arguing about something about him and Kara, but he couldn't remember it for the life of him. What he did remember though, was that he was a were-something. A shapeshifter. His world was black around him, but his first sense to come back was smell. It smelled like some hippie spiritual shop. Lots of candles, woody natural smells, and incense. He opened his eyes, and saw a lovely, dark-haired face standing over him. She had the most lovely green eyes he'd ever seen. "Well, hello there, lovely." The woman's gorgeous features twisted in a snort of laughter. "Yea, keep it in your pants, puppy." Her voice carried just a hint of an Irish brogue. "I know you did it with Iris Nash. Trust me, you're cute, but I'm not having her sloppy seconds." He slowly found himself moving back to reality, his head clearing. "Yea, uh, sorry. Call it Florence Nightingale syndrome or some shit." She laughed again. God, that laugh was gorgeous. "That's the other way around. You're certainly not like your sister." The mention of his sister brought back the memory of Iris's promise. "Kara!" He shot up to a sitting position. "Where is she?" The woman backed off slightly. "Owen Reese left with her after some men tried attacking her." She placed a hand on her shoulder. It was soft, and almost immediately, he felt comforted. "Jason, don't worry. She's okay. Just frightened, is all." Jason calmed, considerably. "Those men. They're coming for her for what we are." He shook his head. "But what that is, I don't know..." The woman knelt down next to him. He realized now that he was on a cot of some sort, in a store room. "To put it simply? You're a were-coyote. A very special one." "A special one?" He looked down to her. "How do you know that? Hell, I don't even know who you are." "I'm Caitlin O'Dwyer, and I'm a witch." "A witch?" He whistled. "Well, this is a weird morning." "Afternoon now, actually." She said. "You were out for quite a bit." Jason brought a hand up to his head, rubbing it. "Shit. Well, uh..." He whistled. "That's just great." He wanted aspirin, bad, or maybe something stronger. "So, uh, how am I special?" Caitlin paused for a moment. "It's best I let Lieutenant Reese explain that." She said, quietly. "You're both weres, so it'd be his place to explain all this." He sighed. "Uh, all right." Jason slowly fell back onto the bed. "I feel sore as all hell." "Yea, that's part of what Miss Nash shot into you." She said. "I'm not entirely sure what it was, but you got a pretty potent spell knocked into you." "So, that shot was a potion?" He thought about it. "So what did it do?" "I'm not entirely sure," She said. "But the effect is pretty obvious. It kicked in some latent genetics, and popped out the puppy side in you." "Genetics..." He thought about that for a second. "Kara, shit." "Yes," A male voice came from the far end of the store room. A man who looked like a thug, but wore a cop's shield on his belt, was standing against the wall. "Kara. We have to talk to you about your sister, Mr. Archer." "And just who are you?" Jason slowly pulled himself up into a sitting position, which every sore muscle in his body protested. "Santiago. I work with Reese in Major Crimes." He crossed his thick arms across his chest. "In case you haven't figure it out, we're the Arcane squad in SFPD." "Yea," He nodded. "Figured that one out. Tell me, does the super-muscle-freak deal apply for all of you? It seems like a requirement." "Yep, he's her brother." He rolled his eyes. "Listen, Archer, you can't tell Kara she's a were." "Why the hell not?" He wanted to try standing up, to make his protest seem more than just vocal. "She's got a right to know." "We want to protect her, until we can figure out what's going to set off her change, and what exactly we can do to soften the blow." Santiago took a step towards him. "I don't like this any more than you, Jason. But my orders come from the Captain." "I don't take orders from him." Jason snapped. He hadn't realized it, at first, but a growl broke into his voice, primal and fierce. "You will, because he's got more strings he can pull and favors he can call in than you could comprehend." Santiago said. "You're going to cool your jets, man. For now, Kara's safe with Owen. And I promise you, he won't let anything happen to her." Caitlin's hand touched Jason's, again seeming to calm the swirling cyclone of emotions brewing in Jason's body. "Owen Reese is a good man. He'll protect your sister, I promise." * Owen had taken her back to his place. It was the safest place he knew, he said, and even if it wasn't familiar for her, Kara felt it was at least somewhat homely. He lived in a decent part of town, that was for sure. Owen unlocked the door and let them in. The place had a distinct feeling of being lived in. It had a nice homey feel, really. They walked into the living room. A few pictures sitting on a mantle showed Owen with some other people. The pictures, however, looked like they were from the eighties or maybe even the seventies. She wondered, suddenly, how old he really was. He certainly didn't look like he'd been around long enough to be in the navy and be a ten-year vet of the force. "Kara," Owen started. He placed a hand on her arm. "Jason was looking into a story. Looking into a drug ring, I think. But he got abducted by a woman, a werewolf named Iris Nash." "And this Iris," Kara said. Her mind was already racing, at worry for her brother, and the thought that she was going to kill this Iris woman for whatever she'd done to Jason. "What'd she do?" "She tampered with his genetics, using magic." He paused a moment, and his voice went quiet. "She's turned him into a were, Kara." "What?" She hissed. "How?" Some part of her mind said that reasoning this away wouldn't probably be easy. It was, after all, magic. "No...Why? Why would she do that?" "I don't really know. That's what we're going to find out, Kara." Owen cupped her jaw, and she let him turn her head so his eyes connected with hers. "Those people," Kara whispered. "At Wyrd. They want to do the same thing to me?" She saw him hesitate. "Damn it, Owen, I'm a big girl. I can handle some psychos who want to abduct me." Owen nodded. "Yea. I don't know why, but they're coming after the both of you." She looked up at him for a moment. She was scared, damn it. She didn't like being scared. Kara was used to being an authority figure, someone who defended someone else. But, now, she was the target here. Someone, something that didn't stop for much of anything, were coming after her. "Kiss me, Owen." Kara whispered. "What?" Owen broke eye contact for a moment, drawing back. "Kara, I..." "Shut up." She whispered. "I want you to kiss me, hold me, and I want to be near you." She got impatient about the same moment that he decided to kiss her. Their lips crushed together in a hungry, desperate kiss. There was no hesitation between either of them. Kara felt the lust soar through her. She wanted him, badly. Needed him. No booze or anything, she wanted him. And even if she had to use her gun, he'd damn well hold her afterwards. Owen's tongue thrust into her mouth, and she responded in kind. Her tongue wrapped around his, dueling with a need that she hadn't imagined could be running through her. She shoved off her jacket, feeling three sizes too small for her clothes at the moment. His hands moved down her body, but impatience got the better of her. She slid up, and move to straddle his lap. Patience was the last thing on her mind. She grinned, baring her teeth for him. "Come on, wolfman." She teased. "I want you." He flashed his own teeth, with the fangs that would have been at home on some sort of dire wolf. The sight of them sent shivers-all of them not entirely bad- through her. "Then you'll have me." His hands worked at her blouse, pulling at the buttons. They worked as fast as they could to strip each other. Her blouse and bra were off in moments, and she had to fight the urge to just tear his shirt with need. Instead, she dipped her head while she pulled his shirt up. Her tongue flicked out, dragging across his flesh as she pulled his shirt further and further up. A growl, bestial in nature, ripped from Owen's throat. She eventually pulled his shirt up over his head, the sweaty, masculine taste of him filling her mouth. "Yum," She murmured, and her teeth nipped at his neck. "You're addictive, Kara." Owen growled. His hips arched up into her, and even through his jeans and her slacks, she could feel his heavy, throbbing arousal. She moaned, and happily ground herself against him. She lifted herself off of him, reluctantly, just long enough to undo her belt and slide her slacks off. Kara worked off her panties next, leaving them pooled on the floor with the rest of her clothes. She looked down at him, before she moved onto his lap again. "You know, it's nuts." "Yea, what is?" He chuckled. "I'm sleeping with my training officer, who's a werewolf, a total stud, and if I told anyone what I've been doing the past two days, they'd think I was nuts." "Don't worry," He chuckled. "I like a little crazy." She reached down, and made quick work of his belt and zipper. She shoved his jeans down to his knees, and grinned delightfully at his tented boxers. She made quick work of those as well, and took his cock in her hand. It was thick, hard, and part of her was almost glad it had been dark when they'd first slept together. Men like Owen were a fantastic commodity. He leaned up, their lips meeting again. She sighed, lustily, against him. Her body pressed against his, pressing against his solid chest. Owen let out a rumbling growl of his own, which only shot her lust hotter. She lifted her hips, and guided him in. His thick cock spread the lips of her pussy, and slowly, she lowered herself over him. His size made her grunt and gasp, as well as let out lustful moans. But Owen wasn't the type to sit by, she remembered. He started to arch his hips up against her. Kara grunted, and slowly, she started to grind against him. They started a rhythm of their own. Slow, hot, grinding, drawing every bit of pleasure they could. Owen lowered his head, his lips finding one of her breasts. He licked, nipped, and teased it, making Kara thrash on top of him with eagerness. She grabbed his shoulders, and started to ride him harder, faster. "Owen," She panted his name, needing more of him. His hands slid down to her hips, pulling at her as they they kept that slow, but incredibly intense pace. Slowly, he guided her to a faster, harder pace. She bounced along his length, rocking with lustful, eager moans. Owen's mouth moved up from her breast to the base of her neck. Now, however, his fangs scraped against her skin. She moaned, tossing her head back in delight. That was way, way better than it should have felt. His sharp fangs sent all sorts of wicked tingles through her. She moved faster, more desperately, wanting to push herself over the edge. But Owen was more than eager to help her along. He started to increase his pace, ramming up into her. She felt her body shake with each delightful thrust, and he head her growl, quiet, though it seemed to reverberate with a single word throughout her. "Mine." She didn't have long to think on what that meant, beyond how utterly sexy it sounded. Kara tossed her head back, in wonderful bliss, screaming his name as she climaxed. Her muscles clenched around him, eager to milk his shaft for all it could give. And again, the base of his shaft seemed to swell, filling her and stretching her as hot ropes of seed filled her. She moaned his name, softly, holding on to him, afraid to let go. His fangs grated against her skin, not piercing, but still driving her even deeper into pleasure at the sensations. He lasted a very long time, for which she was entirely fine with. She seemed to drift between peak and trough, riding a series of climaxes like waves. That swelling, whatever it was, was heavenly. Finally, when it was over, Kara groaned. She was sore and tired, in the best possible way. "Hold me," She pleaded, her voice a whimper. "Of course, Kara." His thick, warm arms wrapped around her, and she sighed in happiness. Kara nuzzled into his neck, utterly happy. "You have a ton to explain to me, wolfman." "I'll explain later." He murmured his promise. She was satisfied with that, for now. But his growled word rang through her head, leaving her with so many wonders. His. What did it mean? * Corvus wasn't pleased. The two wolves that had gone after Kara Archer had seriously bungled the job. They apparently hadn't been paying attention, and they hadn't known there were two witches and a were, all of whom were incredibly dangerous. He didn't understand the weres and their mentality. Whatever they saw in the two Archers was irrelevant to them. However, he had an uneasy alliance with them. He needed to support them. Iris Nash stood in front of him. "They weren't equipped to take on those detectives." She said those detectives like there would be something wrong with referring to her brother. Corvus knew Iris's true name, Iris Reese. But for some reason he did not understand, she took the mother's maiden name. It mattered little to Corvus. He only wanted loyalty. No, he didn't even want loyalty. What he wanted was competency. "And what do you expect me to do?" He hissed. He watched as she recoiled when he spoke, enjoying it. His lungs were destroyed, in reality. He knew his voice sounded horrific. It was just another tool. "Stupid bitch, two men against three cops? Save me from idiots." He had half a mind to hit her. The bitch-and she really was one- responded adequately to pain. "I'm sorry, sir." She bowed her head, submissively. "I'll do my best next time." Yes, she would. Because he'd offered her the one thing she wanted. Her brother's head. That, and power. Revenge and power. Iris Nash was not a woman with very pure motives. "I require another sacrifice." He said. "Two more, and I should be able to work the summons." "Is there any specific one you ask for?" Corvus chuckled. "Good, you thought to ask." He sat down at the card table, and pulled a file out. "Here. She's a regular at a vampire bar. Watch her tonight, study her. Then take her tomorrow." "It's as you wish, sir." She bowed, and picked up the file. "Where do you wish her taken?" "The workshop. I'll want to begin immediately once we have her." "Yes, sir," She looked over the file. "What makes her special?" "Grandmother had the gift." He remarked. "Had a minor form of touch telepathy. He likes them. The mind-readers." "Yes, sir." Iris's voice was quiet. "Is there anything else?" At the shake of his head, she scurried from the room. Just two more. Two more, and he could get his revenge. To pay back Caitlin O'Dwyer back for almost a century of pain, misery, and suffering. * Well, some questions answered, some mysteries arise. Thanks for reading, and leave some feedback! Also, a little update...I'm considering starting up a second series as a semi-companion to Bark at the Moon. I've got some other characters I'd like to play around with, but I don't want to necessarily have that many characters running around in one story, so it would be either a sequel to BATM, or another series. If you guys want, feel free to give your opinions on it, either here in the comments or in an email. Thanks for reading!