Michael Thorton was the new alias I used when I entered the police academy and has served me well thus far. Even after all this time, I couldn't let my guard drop. So, to stay ahead of the Wolven Council, I periodically hacked their mainframe to see if my alias name cropped up on their radar. Luckily, it hadn't. Call me paranoid, but it was better to be safe than sorry.
I grasped the doorknob of the sheriff's office. Goddamnit! Why was it so hard? My hands trembled as I lingered at the door. These F.B.I. agents couldn't have been here for me, but my paranoia still stuck out its ugly rear end. With a last deep breath, I twisted the door handle and entered the bear's den. Edward always hated it when we named his office as such. He would usually grumble and growl, cursing us with every cuss word he could think of.
The office wasn't big, but yet not cluttered either. A big wooden desk took up most of the space in front of a bay window, which overlooked the busy street below. Two leather chairs stood in front of the desk while a withered-down couch was propped up against the opposite wall. Most of the walls had pictures hanging from them; the smiles of his wife and children, immortalized, brightened up the office. A pang of sadness ran through my heart. I couldn't stop thinking of the child that was taken from me.
As I pulled myself out of my wallowing, I sensed three sets of eyes on me. I squirmed on the spot but held a tight rein on my facial features. I walked over to Edward while ignoring his guests. However, I couldn't ignore the lingering gazes of the F.B.I. agents scrutinizing me at every step. I unintentionally rubbed a sigil on the base of my wrist. It was an enchantment that altered my scent. I couldn't change my identity while keeping my scent the same.
"Did you need me, Chief?" I asked, keeping my voice dull.
Edward rubbed the bald patch on his head and said, "Deputy Thorton. I wish to introduce you to our guests." Only then did I glance over at the F.B.I. agents.
I kept my face passive while observing the newcomers. In the left seat sat a hulk of a man with a mane that could make a lion proud. His hair was reddish, but while combed, the man's hair still held a wild steak in it. The beast of a man's brown eyes held an air of dominance in them that could make even the sheriff fall to his knees. With a slight flare of my nostrils, I picked up the scent of a lion shifter. No surprise there. However, the second agent next to him made my skin crawl.
The second man's black eyes dug too deep. He had a leery smile on his face. His black hair was slicked back toward his neck. The biggest and most obvious facial trade that tried to stab me in my face was his overly large, hooked nose. He reminded me of a rat, even though he was a werewolf.
"Good morning, gentlemen," I greeted them with a bit of vomit in my mouth as the weirdo continued raking his black eyes over my body.
"To you too, Deputy Thorton," the man replied while rising from his chair. "Agent Jude Benette, at your service." He then shook my hand.
Unfortunately for me, the rat--I mean werewolf, next to him, stood as well and grasped my hand. I shuddered as his clammy hands met mine. "A pleasure. I'm agent Noah Slade." He then turned to Edward while his smile warped into a grin. "Sheriff Miller, If I had known you had such a handsome deputy, I would have visited ages ago."
Just let it go, Caleb. This creep isn't worth it. Nothing would have made me happier than to slap the sleazeball through a wall, but it wasn't worth it. I pulled away from his grip, promising to scrub my hand in acid for good measure.
"Agent Benette," Edward growled. "Would you mind keeping your team member in check? I don't have the strength to write up a report if my Deputy decides to put a bullet in his brain."
The sleazebag quickly raised his hands in the air and said, "Sorry, but I have a weak spot for handsome men in uniforms." His beady little eyes raked my body.
"Enough, Slade!" agent Benette hissed. "Get your dick back into your pants and focus on why we're here."
"Okay, okay." Slade slunk back to his seat, while a relieved sigh escaped me. However, before he made himself comfortable in his seat, Slade winked at me.
Shaking the revulsion out of my head, I took my place beside Edward while he sorted through the carnage of files on his desk. The sheriff was a complete slob, not to be insulting. But, if it wasn't for his mother and his wife cleaning up after him, his office would have been an utter disaster zone.
After a minute, Edward pulled out the file he wanted and handed it to me. I stared down at the brown file in my hand as if it would come alive and devour me whole. Paranoia was a pain in the ass at times. I struggled to keep my hands steady and prevent the file from falling out of my grip. I swallowed heavily, afraid of the contents of the file. What if they were here for me? Wouldn't be impossible. The Wolven Council couldn't afford an Omega running free in the world.
Before I could lose myself in my chaotic thoughts, a cough reverberated through the office. My eyes snapped away from the file and landed on three sets of eyes staring at me.
"What's wrong, Deputy Mc Hotty," said Agent Slade with a smirk. I glared at the asshole, wishing he'd take the file and shove it up his ass. "Afraid the file might bite?"
I scoffed and said, "Go hump a hydrant." It was Slade's time to glare at my jab. "I'm just preparing myself for the shitstorm brewing between these pages. It's not every day when the F.B.I. arrives in town just to have a cup of tea."
Agent Benette chuckled, "True. Unfortunately, our quarrel has fled to this town. We need to end them before another town's bled dry by their bloodlust."
Bloodlust? My stomach dropped. I yanked the file open and sped through the report. As much as I was relieved that they weren't here for me, I couldn't shake off the dread pooling in my gut. A pack of blood-crazed vampires. Ten of them. Fuck!
"We have to alert all the townspeople to the danger, "I blurted out. "We can't allow these vermin to gain a foothold in this town."
"Steady there, handsome," Slade replied. "We have already tracked them down and we'll eradicate them by nightfall."
I threw the file on the table and glared at the man. "If that's the case, then why are you sitting here? If the sun sets, they'll start attacking the citizens. We have several families living on the outskirts of the city. They--"
The office door flung open suddenly. Edward's mother rushed into the office as if the hellhounds of the underworld were chasing her. Once her brown eyes fell onto her son, she screeched, "We have a problem. Gibson arrived at the Jefferson's homestead and found the cabin in utter disarray. There was blood and everything..."
Tabitha, our dear old dispatcher, clutched the pendant around her neck and began to sob. The Jefferson's was a family of shifters who lived in the middle of the woods. Old man Gibson usually visited the family and delivered fresh fish he caught.
Before my mind could process the ramifications of her words, my body had already left the office. I shouted for the the remaining three officers to accompany me to the Jefferson's homestead.
"Thorton!" Edward barked. "Don't do anything rash before we scope out the homestead. Establish a perimeter before entering the house, do you hear me?"
"Ay, captain!" I yelled as we rushed out of the building.
As I slammed closed my car door, a rookie named Ashley Gibson joined me. Yes, she was the daughter of the old man who delivered fish to the Jeffersons. The cruiser's engine rumbled to life before I reversed out of the parking space.
"What's the damage?" asked Ashley while she readjusted her bulletproof vest.
With a frown, I contemplated telling Ashley the truth. She was barely out of the police academy. Facing ten blood-crazed vampires was too much for her to handle at this stage. "There's a situation at the Jefferson's homestead."
Ashley's eyes hardened into a glare. "What happened?"
"We don't have any solid leads... but there was a break-in."
I picked up speed and flipped the switch on the car's sirens. We had to reach the homestead as fast as we possibly could. However, I couldn't stop the sense of dread wrapping its tendrils around my heart. The Jeffersons were probably dead already.