Blood of Beasts

Sydran Barks narrowed his eyes with a deep frown as he crouched in front of the body. From what was left, the body was a male in his mid-thirties—just a tad bit older than Sydran—and the guy had been rich. “What do you see?” Sydran’s good friend, a local cop by the name of Bruce, crossed his arms over his chest with a frown as deep as Sydran. Sydran gestured to the watch. “Guy was rich, just like the others. But based off the bites, I’d say this is a rogue wolf. You need to keep your guys off this.” He recovered the body and stood, gaze flicking to the scene. Investigators took photos, while other police held back a crowd, where those bloody leeches of the press tried to sneak as many photos as possible back behind the yellow line. Tonight, the moon was half full, but the sight of it made Sydran’s muscles tighten in longing. He hadn’t wolfed out in days and his nerves ached. They felt antsy, just like he did, but there’d been too many cases lately for him to transform safely. Not without the humans in the town picking up on it. Especially with this. His gaze trailed back to the covered body.