How the hell was I smelling all this, especially in the rain? I spotted a dot of red in the dog tracks, then another and another. The red splotches got bigger as I moved out of the field on a path headed into a wooded area. Most of the other cops and emergency personnel were back in the field and nobody was paying me any attention. Just another uniform searching the park. The woods got thicker and the tracks disappeared on a paved path, but the red splotches kept on. Abruptly, I came to stream running out of a rough rock arch, the front overhung with yellow forsythia. Instinct made me slow, as the wet dog smell got stronger. A low growl stopped me in my tracks and I realized I was all alone, well out of sight of the field. A pair of red rimmed eyes watched me from a rocky hollow on the left side of the arch, the forsythia partially blocking my view. I edged slowly closer until I could make out a pale face watching me from next to a very large, very disturbed canine face. So here was the kid and the dog, with the dog being wounded. Where had the woman gone?
“Hey kid, you alright?” I asked quietly, trying not to spook him or his dog.
He didn't say anything, his expression a mix of fear and determination. Brave kid.
“Is your dog hurt?” I asked.
He glanced at the dog and looked back at me, undecided. I kept edging closer and the growls gradually subsided, although the red eyes never left me. The kid looked about eight or nine, dark hair, dark eyes. The dog was huge, reddish brown and if I didn't know better, more wolf than dog. I could see wounds on the dog's neck and as I studied the two of them, I realized that the wounds were looking better as time went on. It brought to mind an image of Tatiana, her wounds healing as she drank my blood. I also noted that the dog had the most intelligent looking eyes I had ever seen on an animal. Almost human. I had a hunch. I unfocused my eyes and used my Sight to look the animal over. Its aura was blue and green, human and animal mixed. Reaching slowly into my cargo pocket, I pulled out the sub sandwich. After unwrapping it I tossed it up. Half the bread and most of the lettuce fell off it in mid flight, but the meat (ham I think) and cheese and bottom roll landed right in front of the dog, who sniffed once and gulped twice. Almost immediately, I could see the wounds finish closing.
A yell behind me caused me to turn and look, but it was far away, back at the field. I turned back to the boy and dog, only to find the dog gone and a naked woman in its place. My hunch had been correct. Not that big a stretch really. Tatiana had told me that werewolves were real. I just didn’t expect them to be soccer moms.
“Ma'am, you alright?” I asked.
She nodded, her reddish brown hair plastered to her head with rain. I thought for a moment, then rummaged in my shoulder slung patrol bag. I tossed her a bottle of water, two granola bars, a cheap one dollar rain poncho and a fifteen dollar Trac fone that I keep as a spare ( and an untraceable way to call Gramps if I need to). Her hand shot out and snatched each item from the air like a pro ball player.
“You have someone you can call, ma'am?” I asked.
This time she spoke, slightly louder than a whisper. “Yes, Officer.”
“You alright if I leave you then?” I asked, not wanting to be gone too long. I wasn't part of the triple S group yet so, I didn't think I need to tell them about the werewolf momma who had killed three of the attackers while protecting her son.
“We'll be fine. Thank you Officer....?”
“Gordon, Ma'am.”
“Officer, you smell like vampires.”
“Yes Ma’am.” I answered, and left, heading back to the field.
My absence, of about eight minutes, hadn't been noticed. Instead, everyone's attention was on the capture of the last assailant, who had apparently been hiding in the plastic tunnels that were part of the little playground, north of the ball fields. Listening in, I found that the big field was known as the North Meadow and the entrance we had come through was known as the Girl's Gate.
The last of the six had been flushed from hiding and then tasered when he proved too difficult to manhandle. Arms cuffed behind his back, he was being led to a squad car by two large cops, struggling the whole way. About my height, slender, long lank hair plastered to his face, eyes wild and mouth snarling, he looked less than human. Again, my gut told me to use my Sight and I scanned his aura. Blue, but with flashes of white across his personal biofield. And just a trace of greasy black. Human, with twitches of vampire white and demon black. Concerned, I moved up close behind him, not liking the way his bound arms were straining at the cuffs. As they neared the squad car, a female cop opened the rear door and everything went to hell in a hurry.
The cop on his right arm slipped in the muddy grass and the wilder chose that moment to exert all of his berserk strength against his cuffs, snapping the metal links. Time started to slow, as he spun to his left, slamming his fist against the other cop's temple, dropping that one like a wet sack. He then leaped for the lady cop at the squad car.
I was moving as soon as the cop slipped, my fight brain taking over. My right hand snatched a handful of his greasy hair just as he began his leap. Everyone around us seemed frozen and even the perp was moving a little slower than I. Yanking back hard, I pulled him completely off his feet, slamming him to the wet ground. Scary quick, he bounced to his feet, spinning and slashing his hooked left fingers at my face. I leaned back a little, letting his fingers slide by with a mere half inch to spare. He surged forward a step, swiping at me again, this time with his right hand. My body moved forward on its own, ducking the swing and my right arm shoved his past me, spinning his back to me. Again I grabbed his hair in my left hand, but this time I snaked my right arm around his throat and under his chin, which he obligingly lifted, as I pulled on his hair. Keeping my left hand at the back of his head I stepped in close, grabbed my left bicep with my right hand and squeezed both arms hard, while I bent him over backwards.
He flailed for a moment, but off balance and back arched, he was helpless as the pressure of my arms on his carotid arteries shut off all blood flow to his brain. Ten long seconds later his consciousness shut down. I spun as I dropped backward so that I landed on his back, just as a ton of cops piled on both of us. Spitting out a mouthful of mud, I relaxed my hold enough to keep the creepy kid under me from checking out completely. Swift, efficient hands re-secured Junior’s arms, this time with multiple plastic wrist cuffs and a whole bunch of hands pulled me upright.