"Well, well, if it isn't our only wolf guardian," he said, his deep voice dry but warm. He looked me up and down, then added, "Did they haul you out of a dogfight or something?"
"A wrecked car, actually." And I wasn't the only wolf guardian, of course, but few people knew that. Most seemed to think that Rhoan was a wolf who'd undertaken the blood ceremony and become a vampire. The fact that he could walk in daylight was attributed to age. Few questioned the fact we shared the same last name, simply because that was standard in wolf packs. The same surname always carried down through the generations. "You were expecting someone else?"
"Hoping for someone else would be more accurate." He reached inside the car and pulled out a bag. "Someone with less propensity to foul crime scenes."
"Well, I'm afraid it just isn't your day."
"Apparently not." He glanced briefly over his shoulder as the two other men climbed out. One was a cat-shifter, the other a bird-shifter of some kind. I'd seen both of them at a crime scene with Cole previously, but had no idea of their names. Nor did Cole seem inclined to introduce them.
"Get the gear, guys. I'll head inside," he added, then glanced at me. "Are you all right? You actually do look a bit of a mess."
"Let's just say I'd rather be home than here, but Jack's given me no choice."
"Jack's like that. And I'm actually surprised you're not in there already."
"Just got off a plane from holidays and was shunted straight here. Hence, no ID."
"And you're here because Jack's hoping you'll find a little lost soul?"
"That, and the fact we're short on guardians who can investigate day crimes."
"Guardians aren't investigators. They're hunter-killers."
Which was totally true - up to a point. "Let's not get into that argument when there's a victim waiting."
He almost smiled. Almost. "Fair enough. Follow me, then."
I followed. The cop allowed us through after a quick inspection of Cole's ID and a brief explanation. Cole then handed me a set of gloves, donned a pair himself, and lightly pushed the front door open.
Surprisingly, given all the repairs it had undergone, the door didn't creak as it moved. The long hallway beyond was shadowed, and the silence thick. Even the whispering wind made little sound as it slid past our legs and scattered the dust bunnies lying on the worn, wooden floorboards.
The air escaping from the house was rich with the scent of blood and death, but there was something else here, something that had the hairs at the back of my neck rising.
An evil so vile I had to clench my fists against the urge to run.
I licked my lips and forced myself to remain calm. If I could face the god of death, I could surely face whatever remnants of evil lay waiting in this house.
"The death still smells rather fresh," I commented, glad my voice sounded so normal when I was shivering inside.
"The neighbors reported it less than two hours ago. The cops called us straight in."
I nodded, and narrowed my gaze a little. There was a deeper blob of darkness down at the far end of the hall, but it didn't look big enough to be a body. It looked vaguely like a lump of wood, only there didn't seem to be any missing from the walls or doorframes. I switched to infrared, and the fading glow of life leapt into focus.
It wasn't a lump of wood. It was a leg.
A leg that still wore a shoe.
This was going to be bad.
Cole pulled a flashlight from his bag and flicked the switch. The bright beam of light swept across walls splattered with blood and chunkier bits of God knows what. Then it caught the limb and stopped.
"Nice shoe," he commented.
"Yeah." It was a silver stiletto, with sparkly bits around the toes. The sort of shoe worn to parties or dances, not abandoned houses.
"I'd better set up a mobile recording unit here."
"I hope you have more than one in that little black bag of yours. I'm thinking we're going to need it."