Written by user 4everdreamer2014

Vincent exhaled slowly and looked at his watch again. It was almost three in the morning and all he had seen was a couple of call girls come and go through the front door of the house he was watching. He grabbed his pack of cigarettes and lit one up, inhaling the smoke deeply before blowing it out the open window. He wasn't going to see anything here tonight, that much was obvious.

The half-eaten sandwich sitting on the passenger seat had lost its appeal hours ago, and the dregs of coffee left in his paper cup were cold as ice. It was time to get refueled and start again tomorrow. He was sure that something would happen, and soon. His gut was never wrong. Flicking his cigarette butt out of the window, he turned the key on his old Impala and drove off down the side road. He was cruising around 35 miles per hour when a small streak of white disappeared under his car.

"Shit!" he yelled as he slammed the brakes and brought the car to a shuddering stop. Vincent quickly got out and ran to the front of the vehicle, leaving his door open. There were spatters of blood across the chrome bumper and a white puddle of fur directly below it. He could see the dog's side moving, so he knew it wasn't dead yet. That was a good thing. Going to his trunk, he got out a towel out of his gym bag. As carefully as he could, he wrapped the towel around the dog and picked him up, placing him in the passenger seat while pushing the sandwich into the floor. He touched a button on his watch and a face appeared.

"What do you need?" a female voice asked.

"Directions to the nearest vet clinic that's open," he barked to the hologram. It didn't take long, a few seconds at most, and directions were loaded into the GPS set in his dashboard. Perfect! It was less than ten minutes away. Vincent put the pedal to the floor, smoking his tires, as he headed to his destination.

He looked at his little passenger and softly told him, "You don't die on me." Reaching over, he put his hand on the little dog's head and gently scratched behind his ears. The dog whined pitifully and wagged his tail, almost as if in appreciation for the gesture despite his pain. Vincent looked him in the eyes and the poor creature turned his head to lick the hand that was comforting him. He couldn't help but smile back as tears tried to well up.

Vincent stopped the car in front of a small building and took the dog in as quickly as he could. An assistant took the bundle to the exam room in the back and told him to wait there in the front of the office.

After twenty minutes, the vet came out to speak with him. He was sitting with his elbows on his knees, and the first thing he saw were her feet. They were small and nestled into a pair of plain black flats. They were connected to beautifully shaped ankles that led to shapely legs. His eyes shot up to her face when he realized that he had been staring. A pair of stormy grey eyes met his and he stood up to meet the woman who owned them.

"Hi. I'm Dr. Daniels. What's your friend's name?" Her voice flowed into his ears like a rainbow flowing through mist. It was rich and full of quiet authority.

Vincent stretched his arm out to shake her offered hand.

"Hi. I'm Detective Ashe, and that dog isn't mine. I was on my way home when he ran out in front of my car. Is he going to be okay?" His concern was genuine. He remembered having a small dog when he was a child and how it had died one day for no apparent reason. She had been his best friend and her loss had left such a large void that he never wanted to replace her. To this day, he had a soft spot for dogs that he would never feel towards another animal.

Remy flicked her long brown braid over her shoulder and led him back to where the injured dog was enjoying a drug-induced sleep. His back leg had been casted from the hip down, and there was an IV catheter taped down on his forepaw. Vincent felt awful. He looks so pitiful! This is all my fault.

"Except for a broken leg and a split ear, he should be fine. I would need to keep him a couple of days to make sure that the bone heals completely and that no other issues come up during his recovery," Remy told him.

"What should I do with him when you're done and he's ready to be discharged? I mean, he's not my dog, and I don't see a collar on him with his owner's info. For all I know, he's a stray, and I can't just put him back on the street." Vincent knew his lifestyle would not agree with having a dog. He was hardly ever home, so the poor thing would probably starve to death.

Remy smiled. "I will have my assistant take him to the animal shelter when he's ready. They will make sure that he is healed before they adopt him out to a family."

Thank the Creator the furball is going to be taken care of. Vincent thanked her and shook her hand again before leaving. It was so soft. And she smelled so sweet. He couldn't quite place his finger on which scent she was wearing, but it was delectable. If it wasn't for exhaustion knocking him in the back of the skull, he might have hung out for a while with the little dog, just so that he could see more of her.

As he got into his car, he looked up at the front door. It was then that he decided he was coming back tomorrow to ask her out. She probably got a dinner break around seven-ish, so he would come visit and see how it went from there. He knew that she was out of his league, but he was cocky and believed that his charm would be enough to convince her to say "yes."

* * * * * *

Remy poured herself a fresh cup of coffee and automatically added some powdered cream and sugar. Picking the mug up off the counter, she stirred it absent-mindedly as she walked to her office down the hall. She was thinking about the detective, with his longish blonde hair and green-hazel eyes.

Across the bridge of his nose, running almost below his left eye, was a scar that must have been a pretty deep cut. She wondered where he had gotten it, and if he was working when it happened. Almost out of instinct, she had wanted to run her finger across it but she had managed to restrain herself. Hoping that he would come back tomorrow, she decided to push him to the back of her mind so that she could actually get some work done. As she sat down in her leather chair, her assistant popped her head in the door.

"Remy, do you want me to stay long enough to start a fresh IV bag on our newest patient?"

"That would be great, Rachel. Thanks." Alone again, Remy took a sip of her coffee and dug into the file on her desk. A quick prognosis, discharge instructions for the animal shelter, and her signature made it complete. She hated leaving things to finish later. Her paperwork was always completed as it came in, and it was always done right. She couldn't settle for anything less. Her mother always teased her about being such a perfectionist, bordering on OCD.

About four hours later, her relief arrived to take over the on-call duties. Rachel had already gone home, so she grabbed her bag and car keys and walked out into the deserted parking lot. Her car was like her office – pristine. Even in the dark before the dawn it was shiny, reflecting every light in range.

Remy looked around as she walked, admiring the Silverleaf Poplars with their purple leaves and red blooms with silver streaks. She deeply inhaled the night fragrances, catching a faint scent of ozone that told her it might rain in a few hours. She could hear small animals scurrying around in the distance, and the flapping of moth wings over her head around the street lamp. All felt right, so she got into her car and drove home.

Pulling into her semi-circle driveway, she clicked a button on the dash of her car and the front door opened. She turned her car off and walked inside, hanging her purse and keys on the rack by the entrance as the door closed quietly behind her. Slipping her shoes off of her tired feet, Remy walked across the bare tile, heading straight for her bedroom. She quickly changed into her sleeping attire and crawled in between the sheets, their softness lulling her further towards sleep. Within minutes she was out.

* * * * * * *

Remy was sitting at her desk in her office, filling out some paperwork. She caught a slightly familiar scent and looked up, seeing Detective Ashe standing in the doorway. A slight smile played at the corner of his lips as he pushed his fingers through his blonde hair. Giving him a sexy smile in return, she stood up and walked around the desk to greet him. He fully entered the room and closed the door behind him, clicking the lock into place. That should have raised an alarm in her mind, but it didn't.

He hung his jacket on the rack by the door and took her hand in his, pulling it to his lips and pressing a tender kiss on the back of it. Turning it over, he kissed her palm, then her wrist, brushing his lips and warm breath across her skin softly. Slowly making his way up her arm, he left a trail of fire up to her neck. Putting his hand in the small of her back to keep her from falling, they backed up to the desktop.

Remy didn't know what to say to him. A sudden dizziness had claimed her. She knew it was wrong to let a man control her like this, but it felt so exhilarating. Melting with every touch, she wanted more. He dotted small kisses along her jawline and looked her in the eyes before kissing her soft lips. She could feel the heat beginning to build in her belly, and she yielded to him. Opening her mouth to give him greater access, he deepened the kiss, exploring every crevice. His beard stubble scratched her skin slightly, causing her desire to rise to new heights.

Using both hands, he cupped her bottom and picked her up, setting her gently on the desk, his lips never leaving hers. Brazenly, she ran her hand up his sides and to his chest, relishing in the sculpted feel of his body. A moan escaped his lips as her fingers trailed down to his belly and under his shirt, his hands making their way under hers. He quickly broke their kiss to take off his shirt, unbuttoning hers as he reclaimed her mouth.

Stripping her blouse and bra off, he left her bare from the waist up. His eyes feasted on her flesh, causing her nipples to pucker. Gingerly taking first one and then the other into his mouth, he suckled her, causing moans of pleasure to escape her lips. Remy ran her hands everywhere on his exposed torso, kissing his shoulders, neck, and gently nibbling his ears. He growled low in his throat as he claimed her mouth once again, pressing his body up against hers.

Remy awoke, sweat trickling down her temples and between her breasts.

"Damn." She hadn't had a dream like that in over two hundred years. Boy, was it a good one. She was so worked up that she didn't know if she could get back to sleep, so she got up and went to her adjoining master bathroom for a relaxing cold shower. She let the water run for a minute before she got under the soothing stream, sighing as her skin cooled. Remy stayed in the shower for a good thirty minutes, shampooing her hair with orange lily and mimosa shampoo, pondering over her dream as she lathered. When she was finished, she went to the kitchen for a midnight snack, her hair wrapped in a towel on top of her head.

She looked in the refrigerator and pulled out a hemagranate, a specially grown fruit that the vampire culture had learned to produce with the use of a little magic. For about four thousand years their species had survived on these fruits in the place of fresh blood from another living being, and because they weren't drinking fresh blood every day, their bodies began to adapt so that they could survive on regular food like the other species on the planet, as long as they had at least two or three hemagranates a month. Without them, a vampire would turn feral and lose all rational thought, being nothing more than a crazed animal. Over time, if they were not killed, the feral ones would begin to become deformed as their bodies became intoxicated from fresh blood. There was no going back to normal once that last string of mental control was severed.

The dark red fruit that Remy held was large enough to fit into two hands and was like a citrus on the inside, with each little grain full of synthetic blood instead of juice. The furry skin was thin but tough, and it peeled very easily.

Pulling the fruit apart into sections, she put them on a plate and got a glass of water. As she put the first section into her mouth, her fangs extended and her eyes went completely black. As she chewed, her eyes slowly changed back to normal. Eating a hemagranate was the closest thing to sexual satisfaction that she could get right now, and she relished it, eating each piece slowly. When she swallowed the last one, she licked her fangs and they retreated back into their hiding place. Sighing with pleasure, she knew it was time to get back to sleep because she had a double shift tomorrow.

* * * * * * *

Vincent was reclined in his favorite chair, a mostly empty soda can in one hand and the plasma remote in the other. His head was lolled to one side as he snored softly, having fallen asleep as soon as he was finished eating. After only about two hours' worth of sleep, his eyes shot open, the pupils dilating into slits. He picked his head up and sniffed the air, but he didn't smell anything unusual.

"Stupid nightmare." His dream wasn't new to him. It had been haunting him for the last three years, ever since his girlfriend had been killed by a feral vamp. They were supposed to have gotten married later that year. Hell, they had even gone and passed their magical mating test in front of the Fates. That certificate was still rolled up, sitting on the piano in front of the last picture they ever took together. Thinking about her, he remembered how soft her hair had been, and how she liked to purr for him in her Cheetah form.

Sometimes, they would transform and just run. Most of the time it would be through the woods behind his house and they would keep at it until they reached the pond, somewhere around two miles out. Their favorite place to stop and rest was on a tree branch that hung out over the water, where they could see their reflection. She had the most beautiful gold eyes that matched her fur. She had always said that her favorite feature on him was his green-hazel eyes because they stood out so well against his black fur when he was in panther form.

Putting the soda can to his lips, he drained what was left in it before getting up to toss it in the trash. He walked back to his bedroom and just fell face-first onto his queen-sized bed, releasing a moan of frustration. Vincent reached towards the head of the bed and grabbed one of his fluffy pillows, shoving it under his head. Sometimes life just sucked. He prayed to the Creator that he would be able to just get a decent night's rest for once. After all, his investigation wasn't going to solve itself.

* * * * * * *

Vincent rolled onto his back and groaned. Trying to focus his blurry vision, he saw that it was just after seven in the morning. The only coherent thought he could muster was, "Why the hell is my phone ringing this early?"

He looked at his watch and saw that it was the precinct as he rubbed sleep from his puffy eyes. Pressing the button on the face, he waited for bad news, because if his Chief was calling it was never good.

"Hey, Chief. What's up?"

A hologram popped up when he answered, showing a man's face with a thick mustache and eyebrows. He was a werewolf, but a really smart one, and he knew that Vincent had been out all night watching a man suspected of trafficking the newest drug craze on the market, Gemstone. Named aptly for its appearance, the crystalline drug could easily dissolve on the tongue or in some unknowing person's drink. Assault reports had nearly tripled in the last six months. There were more than twenty bodies piled up at the Medical Examiner's office that wound up there because of a bad reaction, a fight over possession, or a bad deal. The effects didn't seem to favor any of the races. Vampires, Animagi, Werewolves, and Merfolk were all affected roughly the same. It caused the user to hallucinate to different degrees and usually caused severe mental and emotional shifts.

"Detective Ashe, I apologize for calling so early but we got a case I thought you might be interested in. I believe that it's connected to your current investigation." Chief Brower looked serious, his dark brown eyes hidden beneath extremely bushy eyebrows.

Every speck of sleep left Vincent immediately. His eyes took on their feline form as he listened intently.

"So what happened? And how do you think it's connected to my investigation?" Vincent sat up and put his feet on the carpeted floor, waiting for his boss to explain the situation and connect the dots for him.

Chief Brower picked up a file from the top of his messy desk, opening it up to a stapled picture on the inside. As he held it up to the holophone for Vincent to see, it was obviously a crime scene, with a very dead kid as the subject. He couldn't have been older than sixteen, and what was worse is that it wasn't just some ordinary kid. He was Gregory McLeod, son of the Animagus Chancellor of the One Council.

Vincent let out a low whistle. "Damn. What the hell happened to him?" His green t-shirt and blue jeans were shredded, covered with blood, and one of his shoes were missing. Bits of organs could be seen oozing through some of the larger openings in his abdomen, which looked like it had been through a blender. Slight bruising was evident on his face, but there was a large hole behind his left ear where his brain matter was visible.

"As best as we can tell, it was a feral vamp. No other creature leaves this kind of carnage behind. They would show more signs of eating instead of just slashing, and there weren't any animal tracks that we could find in the vicinity," Chief Brower explained.

"Okay, but what I don't get," Vincent said irritably, "is why you think this is connected to my investigation. You haven't told me one thing that would even remotely connect him to any of my suspects." He was just about tired of this game. His head ached from lack of sleep, and he wasn't in the mood to be jerked around, especially by someone who out-ranked him. He was cocky, not stupid.

Chief Brower replied coolly, "Try the eight kilos of Gemstone we found on him. When the coroner got the body to the morgue, she found a bag taped to his back. He had a jacket on at one point that we found a few yards from the body, so he had to have been trying to conceal the bulge under his shirt."

Vincent thought about it for a minute. It had been pretty warm out for the last week that he had been working his stakeout. He was only wearing t-shirts when he sat in the car with the windows down, and even that caused him to sweat some. Why else would the kid have been wearing a jacket in this kind of weather?

Hanging up the phone, he got a quick shower and ate a simple breakfast of coffee and toast. It was time for him to go beat the bushes for some answers, and he only had ten hours left before visiting time at the vet's office.