2. LEVIATHAN

Chapter 2

LEVIATHAN

As much as I enjoy information gathering, I hate the seat I'm currently stuffed into at the back of the precinct. The little waiting room that looks over the rest of the office has the best vantage point but it also brings back the worst memories. Moments after my father was killed, the monster that took him from me was dragged into this very precinct snarling and yelling that I would be next. I was barely fifteen at the time, hiding behind an officer's desk but I couldn't escape those amber eyes locked on my lanky form.

It was only the second time I caught someone's scent and was able to pair it with a designation. Everyone thought my father's killer was just a werewolf gone rogue. However, that man's scent was nothing like my father's, an actual werewolf.

He was something else entirely.

I've still never been able to match his scent with a designation but I'm still holding out hope that maybe one day it'll come to me.

With a deep breath, I rest back in the worn office chair, eyes peeled for any useful information about the case I'm not supposed to be on. Nearly every officer in this precinct has told me to keep my nose out of this particular investigation but I can't. Four girls have died and this last one might already be dead. No fucking way am I going to sit back and watch the police department fumble this shit again.

A shimmer of magic runs through me, a familiar feeling when my image disappears into my surroundings. I'm not invisible. I'm not a witch. However, my skin can mimic the colors and patterns of the surrounding area so I'm nearly impossible to see. Granted, it looks very strange when I'm clothed but I can't very well sit here naked. One quick move and that little party trick will disappear just as fast as it came.

Despite the uncertainty of my designation, I find humor in spending my time at the edge of the police station, blending into the background. My job requires information and what better place to grab it than here? Officers and suspects spill bits of info when they think no one is listening, from a disgruntled neighbor to facts on a case to things that should never come out of a suspect's mouth in a precinct.

The thought of getting caught only makes these moments more exciting and overshadows the dreary memories attached to this place. Slowly, I focus on the chaotic chatter and zone in on the pieces that I need.

"Another fucking Omega? This shit is making us look bad."

"From her own bed, too."

"That's not what I heard. The street camera caught her stepping outside and meeting someone. The image is shit so other than knowing the girl spoke to someone before she disappeared, we have nothing else to go on. No car. Nothing."

"That's not helpful. Vince is definitely in over his head this time."

My gaze falls on a petite police officer, Avery—I think—and her loosening grip on whatever trash she managed to drag in. Her partner is halfway across the office, chatting about last night's football game, oblivious to her struggle. I've watched him do this more than once, throwing the rookie under the bus when she fails to complete what even the most experienced officers have a difficult time carrying out. Like keeping a struggling criminal twice their size in check.

Just by his scent, I can tell he's some sort of shifter. A fox or a coyote, possibly but the special cuffs locking his arms behind his back keep him from calling upon any of his magic. Pure metals would be the one thing that Mother Nature can't fight against. He looks every bit the monster that the man who killed my father did, adrenaline racing through me at my chance to flatten the bastard on the ground.

Avery grunts as she tries to drag the male farther into the precinct, the beautiful Fae slowly failing her task. She knows it too, by the way her blue eyes widen. The handcuffed male jabs backward, Avery ducking just in time to avoid an elbow to the jugular but that gives him the boost he needs. Not on my watch . He takes off, stupidly right past the small little waiting room. A wicked smile spreads across my lips as I stick my foot out, stifling the chuckle in my throat when he flattens on the ground. Avery is on top of him in a second, her partner bounding around the desks with the decency to actually look embarrassed.

I hate him and I don't hate a lot in this world. He looks like a Chad and he speaks like a frat boy. College ended over ten years ago for him but this officer hasn't gotten the hint.

There are too many other things to focus on but leaving someone else to do the dirty work is all sorts of wrong. In my job, it gets people killed. Granted, the fucker supposedly has his reasons, being one of the only humans on the creature task force. I have personally watched him offer his neck up to a vampire or two, just for the chance at unlimited power.

Lucky for the supernatural world, vampires aren't the thirsty bitches that movies make them out to be.

I can't swallow my laughter fast enough at the scene unfolding before me, Avery straddling the male's back, his face smashed into the tiled floor. My nature reveals itself, Avery's eyes widening in shock.

"Lev. Thought you were banned from the station." Chad's brows furrow as he pushes Avery to the side so he can wrangle the shifter up to his feet.

I just shrug. "Chad, you can't ban me from a police station. What if I had an emergency?" I've never had anything close to what could be considered an emergency. I'm just a public nuisance at this point but it gets me my information.

The officer scowls at my question. "It's Detective. "

"I apologize. Detective Chad." I push to my feet, watching as Detective Chad stalks off with the criminal in hand. Avery is still on the floor, confused and a little wary of my presence.

"Ah, Lev, what are you doing here? I guess that doesn't matter. His name isn't Chad." She's reminded me of his name once or twice but I won't be using anything other than Chad if I can get away with it.

I wink at her shocked face as I help her to her feet, Avery brushing herself off and silently thanking me before shuffling off after her partner. My toothy grin unearths itself at yet another successful morning of information gathering until a familiar body saddles up beside me. "Mr. Dubois, how long have you been standing there?"

I bristle at the mention of my last name because it's not one that I usually go by. "Sitting actually." The body lets out a grunt and I sigh, wondering why he can't just understand a good joke. "Right, not the question. Maybe half an hour." It has definitely been a few hours but fuck if I am going to say that to an officer, let alone Detective Vince Jameson.

"Fuck. How do you do that?"

Everyone has been trying to get me to reveal my designation, but when I don't answer, they think it's just part of the job. Secrets are part of my life. It's easy to assume that my designation would be the same. But it isn't that. I just don't know. I don't have parents to ask, no friends to confide in, and fuck if I'm going to share my worries with my frenemy—Vince, a human police officer—his body currently pressed to my side.

So, I just shrug. Because that's really the only acceptable answer.

He drags me to his office, eyes wandering the entire way. I'm not exactly welcome here. I have been caught one too many times to count, just watching, gathering intel for personal cases. Technically, I am not breaking any laws. But it's a fine line I'm walking and everyone, including me, knows that.

With the door shut, Vince huffs and runs his hands through his salt and pepper hair, "What have you got for me?" I didn't notice before, but he seems worn out and tired. Blinking a few times, I stutter with a small ‘huh' and he just glares at me like I should know what he's talking about. "You're here because you have something, right?"

Oh. Right. "Not really."

"Lev, please don't tell me that you're still coming to sit here on occasion to gather intel."

I won't lie to Vince, but I'm not going to fully admit to it either. My clients pay top dollar for my services and it would be rude of me not to use every avenue I have at my fingertips. It's just unfortunate that police officers here spout so much jargon about their cases that literally anyone if they were paying attention would have a good story. "It's not illegal."

"No, it's not. But it's damn unprofessional to do it the way you do. God, imagine if a reporter had skills like yours. We'd all be in fucking trouble." But no one I've met has skills like mine. That's part of the problem.

Vince falls back into his chair, grimacing as he closes his eyes. I've seen him do this before too. Now, he just looks overwhelmed and a little irritated that he caught me here. That one's on me.

An awkward silence falls between us and as I stay rooted to my spot, I can feel myself blending into my surroundings again. It's not always a conscious gift, one that makes some conversations and meetings pretty fucking awkward. A lot of people think I have some kind of attention deficit disorder but the gentle bounce of my leg or shifting from foot to foot is just so I don't disappear mid-conversation.

"Why are you here, Lev?"

"Looking for a missing werewolf."

Vince's eyes shoot open and he pulls an 8.5" by 11" sheet of paper out of his drawer. "You mean this one?" He dangles the picture and I take a quick look, nodding as I recognize the innocent features of an Omega wolf just a few years past 18. "We're on that shit. Fuck, you're the reason the last one is still alive, aren't you? I thought her story was bullshit when she mentioned just ‘getting away'. Who gave you that job?"

He knows I can't answer, but I can't blame Vince for trying. "I can't reveal my sources." My jobs aren't really… sanctioned by the law. Usually a parent worried for their child, a mate wanting information on a rival, or something like this where I have no idea who paid but it's enough for me not to ask questions.

So long as Vince or one of his buddies don't find me doing anything illegal or hindering an investigation, they look the other way. It has been getting worse over the last year, with me taking on riskier jobs without any regard for my safety. I haven't died but as Vince has mentioned multiple times, it's the principle of the thing.

"Leave this one alone. It's nasty."

I know that. Between rescuing the little Omega wolf that won't stop showing up at my office and the nearly healed claw marks down my back from a few nights ago. I had been fine all morning, but standing this long is starting to irritate them again. I heal pretty fast, which plays into the idea that my designation is reptilian in nature.

I shrug again because there's no good response and Vince's pleas are falling on deaf ears. Even if he could procure the price someone paid for this job—half a million dollars, it's the principle of the thing. I stifle my chuckle because now is not the time to rile him up.

"Seriously, Lev. You're going to get yourself killed and even though we have this love/hate relationship, I don't want to see you dead. You won't be my next case."

"No. I won't." That was an easy agreement. I won't die and Vince won't be the detective trying to figure out what killed me. I start toward the door because this conversation feels like it's over.

Vince sighs, "Next time they find you in here, I may not be able to vouch for you. Hopefully, you found what you need."

"Thanks."

"So you do know that word."

My brows furrow, one foot out the door as I send him a confused expression. "Of course I do. I'm not an ingrate. I just don't like you very much." He was the one who mentioned this love/hate relationship. I don't get along with humans well and other creatures find me either interesting or terrifying. Most people just think I'm an asshole. Vince doesn't seem to give a shit and he doesn't rub me the wrong way. We get along well enough even if I find him strange.

Vince laughs as I leave. It wasn't that funny.