Predator: SVU

Title: Predator: SVU

Author: Prairiefire

Chapter: Ten: Saying Goodbye

Fandom: Predator AU

Rating: M/R

Warnings: Adult Situations, Controversial Subject Material, Graphic Violence/Gore, Rape, Sexual Situations

Orientation: Het

Pairings: Human Female/Male Predator, Female Predator/Male Predator

Summary: Two hunters separated by species and lightyears are about to team up.

Disclaimer: I do not own Predator, nor do I make earn any monetary compensation for the stories I write that feature such characters. However, all my original characters are just that, original. That makes them mine, and they cannot be used without my express written permission.

Feedback: Please. I will respond to all signed reviews on ffn, aff

Word Count: 8041

Vek’rin’ka searched the city for three days and nights for Al’brk’vix. He had been having no success finding him which was both a blessing and a curse. Not finding any lingering scent near the ooman’s, Cass’s, home was a blessing. It meant that Al’brk’vix wasn’t currently stalking her. That eased Vek’rin’ka’s mind ever so slightly. He had given up the idea of resting on the ship and all but stood guard over the female’s dwelling.

Not finding any trace of the Bad Blood infuriated Vek’rin’ka though. He had never had a Bad Blood Hunt take this long. Whatever hole Al’brk’vix was hiding in must have been very deep and very dark. It had been days since the fight for the ship and the injuries that Vek’rin’ka had inflicted on Al’brk’vix would be well on their way to being repaired. Soon Al’brk’vix would be back to his full strength.

For the last couple days Vek’rin’ka had stayed close to Cass’s home. He observed her go about what he assumed was her normal routine. She would rise in the morning and hustle the little one off to an education center. Then she would go down to her workplace and stay there all day. She didn’t seem to be hunting her own Bad Blood very hard. Perhaps she was simply regrouping. All the ooman Arbitrators seemed to work in pairs. And it was well known that oomans formed deep bonds with their families and companions. Loosing her hunting companion was undoubtedly a hard blow. Vek’rin’ka wondered if she realized how closely the Black Warrior walked with those who hunted the dishonored. It would be disappointing if she was malingering because her fighting spirit had been broken so easily. That would have meant Vek’rin’ka had wasted precious time observing a weakling ooman.

The female, Cass, would stay at the workplace until the mid-afternoon. Then she would retrieve the youngling and go back to her home. Observing the youngling proved to be entertaining. She was energetic, intelligent, and respectful and generally seemed happy. She was obviously recovering from the recent death with the normal resiliency of youth. The small family attended another of the child’s games that Vek’rin’ka had previously witnessed. To his disappointment the courting male did not make an appearance. He seemed to be staying away in the last few days. Vek’rin’ka had found no more sign of him than he had of Al’brk’vix since the night the male ooman Arbitrator was killed.

Vek’rin’ka observed one unusual ritual that happened nightly. As the female put the pup to sleep for the night she would bring out an odd tool that was configured from a hollow box with a long stick on one end. From the end of the stick down to the mid-point of the box, past a circular hole cut into the box, were metal strings. When struck each string would produce a different sound. To accompany the oddly melodical noises that the instrument made Cass would vocalize. Her pitch would rise and fall with the pitch of the melody she played. The words rarely made sense. Vek’rin’ka heard phases like “you are my sunshine” and “forever young.” The child was bright, but not nearly as bright as a star and no one remained young forever.

Regardless, the sounds were soothing and the youngling would quickly fall asleep. It reminded Vek’rin’ka of how yautja mothers would purr to their young. They would sleep deeply knowing that their mother was close by and they were protected. It was undeniable that purring elicited trust. This ritual that was performed every night looked to have the same effect.

On the third night Vek’rin’ka finally got the opportunity to get the samples he sought. The aseigan had left with another male earlier in the evening. It was just the two oomans that he was interested in left in the house.

Cass had put the pup, Vek’rin’ka still didn’t know her name, to bed and retired as well. She had her resting chamber’s window open allowing him to enter the dwelling silently. Entering another’s home, especially a female’s private chamber, was extremely bad manners, but not something unforgivable. Besides, Vek’rin’ka reasoned, he had no intention of hunting her.

Quickly, before she had a chance to wake up and discover him, Vek’rin’ka placed his chemical sprayer near her face. The air borne tranquilizer lingered in the air momentarily until Cass inhaled it. As she sank deeper into her slumber Vek’rin’ka disengaged his cloak. The tranquilizer would ensure Cass remained dormant for a short while. Vek’rin’ka pulled a small tube with a short needle-like tip out form a small pouch on his belt. Blood was best for DNA sampling, so he looked for a shallow vein. There were several near her wrists and he carefully slipped the needle into one.

While the vial filled Vek’rin’ka contemplated where to put the tracking device. The device itself was small, no larger than the seed of a naxa fruit. It was designed to be inserted subcutaneously so it would leave no indication of its presence, unlike the devices used by Hunters. They wanted their targets to know they were being tracked and to fear what was coming. Those trackers were attached on the neck to the major artery supplying the brain. Any tampering would cause it to dig in deeper, shredding tissue as it went and causing excruciating pain. Vek’rin’ka had never used one in his Young Blood or Honored Warrior hunts. It took too much of the challenge out of the hunt and often the prey would just give up and not give a good fight in the end. When Arbitrator’s used tracking devices it was usually to track a Bad Blood back to the rest of his outlaw pack. If the Bad Blood knew he was being tracked he wouldn’t go back. Vek’rin’ka just had to find a spot that he could easily retrieve this device from later with minimal invasiveness and where the inevitable bruise would not be noticed.

Vek’rin’ka finally settled on the back of her upper arm. Once the device was loaded into the injector he firmly took a hold of her left arm. He placed the end against the skin and pressed the trigger button. A harsh pneumatic hiss sounded as the tracking device was forced under the skin. Cass whimpered slightly and rolled away from the sensation in her sleep. Vek’rin’ka let her arm go and backed away. He flipped open his wrist computer and checked to make sure the device was transmitting on the correct encrypted channel.

Assured that he, and only he, could pick up the signal Vek’rin’ka silently left the bed chamber. He moved down the corridor to where he roughly guessed was the child’s room. Outside the home it was easy to find the different rooms. Inside proved more difficult. The first room he tried turned out to be a bathing and lavatory room, but the second was the right one.

The pup was curled up on her side. The coverings had been discarded to the bottom of bed and a small, fuzzy object was clutched tightly in her hand. She quietly snored, sounding like her own rough purr to Vek’rin’ka. As he crept towards the bed he stepped on a floor board that squeaked as he placed his weight on it. The pup stirred and opened her eyes.

Groggily she asked, “Aunt Cass?”

Vek’rin’ka froze in place. The child blinked her eyes a couple more times until she finally was able to focus on him. Only then did Vek’rin’ka remember he had disengaged his cloak in the female’s chamber and cursed himself for leaving his cloak off. He made his way carefully over to the pup that showed no fear of him.

“Are you the invisible man,” the youngling asked as she lifted her head off the pillow.

Vek’rin’ka placed his hand to the side of her head. What could have been viewed as a gentle petting was in reality a restraint so that the child would not move as he administered the tranquilizer. He nodded in response to the child’s question. He had heard the little survivor call him that and he figured that it meant his cloaking technology. She didn’t see the sprayer come up under her face as she watched Vek’rin’ka. When the sedative was triggered she yawned widely and sank down to her pillow.

“Oh,” she said sleepily. “Then why aren’t you invisible?” Just as she finished asking she slipped into unconsciousness.

Vek’rin’ka trilled a stifled laugh as he quickly retrieved another blood vial and inserted the needle end into the same set of veins as on Cass. This little pup was amazing. Any other ooman her size would have tried to run and hide. She stayed perfectly calm, not even a faster beat to her heart to indicate any stress.

After filling the second vial Vek’rin’ka quickly opened the room’s window and pushed the screen aside. There was no telling when the other occupant of the home would return. The ooman etas were certainly given a lot of latitude for their personal comings and goings. Once he had passed through he replaced the glass pane and secured the screen back. Jumping from the side of the dwelling to his normal tree perch Vek’rin’ka climbed down and left the city. He would start the DNA analysis now. It would take a while to complete, but he should have the results by the time this planet’s sun set next.

XXXXX

Cass woke early the next morning. There was a dull ache in her head reminiscent of a hangover. Regardless, she pushed herself up and found her arm also aching. She must have slept on top of it. She climbed out of bed and prepared for her day. It promised to be a long one.

Her dress uniform was crisp and she fixed her hair under her cap. When she was satisfied with her appearance she made her way down the stairs. Joann had taken Sonya to her day camp earlier that morning even though she was complaining of a headache. That made getting ready easier. Cass wouldn’t have to explain to Sonya why she was getting dressed up. Nor would she have to find a way around telling her that she was going to Gerold’s funeral. Cass would never lie to Sonya, but just mentioning funerals upset her. Avoiding Scott had been difficult enough. She had finally unplugged her phone when his incessant calls would not stop. Right now, she didn’t want to talk to anyone.

Cass stopped at the mirror in the front hall. She tucked an errant wisp of hair back behind her ear and studied her reflection. What she saw was a pale and drawn face that she barely recognized as her own. Her icy blue eyes were dull and red. The life that normally sparkled there was no where to be found. The puffiness from crying had gone down and liberal amounts of cover up concealed the redness. Satisfied that she appeared to be her cool, collected, strong self she left the house.

The church was already crowded when she arrived. A seat up front next to Captain Adams and Gerold’s family, just like her parking space, had been reserved for her. The closed casket was placed in front of the alter, covered with an American flag. A large photograph of Gerold was placed on top of it wreathed with roses and baby’s breath. The large organ at the back of the church played “Amazing Grace” as the church filled. Hundreds of Miami-Dade police officers and other first responders came in dress uniform to honor their fallen comrade. The pews were a sea of navy blue and white.

The doors were finally closed and the Roman Catholic priest began the funeral mass. The church remained hushed save for the sobbing of several of the parishioners. Throughout the service Cass forced herself to remain stoic and not cry. She didn’t want Gerold to look down from where ever he was and see how weak his partner had become. Her hand itched to pull out the St. Christopher’s medal on the chain around her neck. To hold it would give her comfort, knowing that the patron saint of peace officers was there, nearby, to give her strength.

By the end of the mass she was barely listening to the Father. She stared blankly ahead, on autopilot as she moved through the motions of the service. Stand, sit, kneel, cross yourself. Her body was there; her mind was a million miles away. She reflected on her own faith. Her father had raised her to believe and respect God. When he had died her world had crumbled away. In her youth she couldn’t see God working, being there for her. She felt that He had abandoned her and she resented Him for that. The only thing that remained of her youthful beliefs was the medal her father had gifted to her on her tenth birthday. He couldn’t stay for her birthday dinner so he gave her the medal and promised to see her after work, wake her up even. It was the last time she saw him.

Tears threatened to roll as the memories came flooding back. God had come and taken another life from her. The anger rose within her and she bit it back. She could not give in to basic urge to rip apart every part of the church. She forced down the rage and swallowed. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Adams looking at her. When he saw Cass look at him he put his free hand on her shoulder and gave her a gentle squeeze. She resented his touch, but this was not the place to air their grievances with each other. This was for Gerold. The service ended just then and the chosen pallbearers carried the casket out to the waiting hearse.

The priest, alter boys and readers followed. Next, Gerold’s wife and daughters filed out of the pew followed by Adams and Cass. All the assembled people stood at attention as the casket passed by. The street in front of the church was just as crowded as the church itself. A piper played “Scotland the Brave” as Gerold was loaded into the back of the waiting hearse. Gerold’s family, the captain and Cass were ushered to a waiting limo to take them to the graveside service. The pallbearers and the piper seated themselves in another limo ready to take them to the cemetery. The distance was too long for a walking procession so people began to file out and make their way to their cars.

The ride was solemn and quiet. No one in Cass’s limo said anything. The two girls were silently crying while their mother tried to console them. Cass watched helplessly. She remembered doing the same for Sonya when her parents had been laid to rest. Time would be the only thing to heal the wound.

As the limo pulled into the cemetery Cass could see the riflemen come to attention. The priest was waiting at the gravesite, solemn and dignified as his white robes blew gently in the breeze. The piper hurriedly got out of the car and took his position a little ways away from the graveside. Once he was in his place he continued with playing “Scotland the Brave.”

The mourners began to take their seats. Captain Adams took a seat next to Gerold’s wife. Cass sat on the opposite side with the two girls between her and the widow. Once almost everyone was assembled the priest began his service.

Cass again turned her thoughts to her father. She began to compare his and Gerold’s deaths against her will. There were too many similarities between them. If she started to compare Gerold and her father she realized she would eventually start to compare herself to her father’s partner, Adams. She couldn’t do that. It would only lead to her hating herself as much as she hated Adams or her beginning to forgive Adams. She wasn’t prepared to do either.

Cass was pulled out of her inner war by a small hand placed lightly on her arm. She looked down at Gerold’s youngest daughter. She was staring forward and Cass realized that the service was nearing completion. The honor guard was half finished folding the flag that would be presented to Gerold’s wife.

With trembling hands the flag was accepted. Tears silently rolled down the widow’s cheeks as the red, white, and blue material was set into her hands. Once the officer stood back and saluted her, seven riflemen were ordered to raise their guns. Everyone seated rose to stand. All in uniform stood at attention.

When the first round was fired the little girl startled and grabbed onto Cass’s leg. Cass had to admit that she flinched as well. She held the girl tight as the second and third volleys sounded. Once finished the service was over. Mourners followed the family past the casket as they paid their last respects.

The waiting limousines took their passengers back to the church to pick up their vehicles. Cass got into her truck and drove to Gerold’s old home. There was a private wake being held there for family and close friends. Sitting outside, Cass stared at the home for a few minutes. Cass didn’t want to go in. There would be no smell of home cooking this time. No two little girls to joyfully greet her at the door. It was the right address, but it wasn’t the same home.

XXXXX

Vek’rin’ka watched as the oomans gathered in a large stone building. The architecture of the building depicted an age older than the surrounding area. In his own hunts on this planet he had found that the buildings made of stone and wood were the older ones, a remnant of previous generations. The new buildings were made of metal and glass, many of which would not survive to the next generation.

Many oomans entered, including Cass, before the doors were closed. Many more oomans were left outside. Scanning the group quickly Vek’rin’ka saw that many of them were armed. He stayed motionless on the roof of a building across the street lest he be spotted by one of the oomans below. There were far too many armed ones down there to risk being seen.

The sounds coming from within the building reminded Vek’rin’ka of what Cass did to put the child to sleep. It sounded like a different instrument, but the principles were the same. Pitches rose and fell, often in repetitive order. He could hear many ooman voices from within the building and several outside were vocalizing as well. Again, the voices rose and fell with the sounds the mysterious instrument made. He watched the oomans that had been denied entrance wait outside the building. Many were dressing in the same clothing. Such conformity probably meant that they belonged to the same group or pack, a very large pack, just as his Blooding mark identified him as belonging to the Setg’-in Clan. Instead of dispersing as Vek’rin’ka guessed that they would the oomans remained waiting outside the building. He did not understand the reason for the gathering, but whatever it was, it must have been important to warrant such attention.

It was not until the doors opened and six of the similarly dressed oomans carried out a large cloth covered box that Vek’rin’ka realized what the gathering was. He didn’t have to scan the box to know it either. The oomans were honoring the death of another. With Cass, not to mention all the armed oomans, there Vek’rin’ka assumed that it would be the fallen Arbitrator. He must have been well-known and respected to garner such attendance at his funeral.

Vek’rin’ka nearly activated his plasma cannon was a new melody filled the air. It had a constant whining hum that was overlapped by a high-pitched screeching. He would have given almost anything to have the noise stop. He looked for the source of the ear-splitting cacophony until he saw a large male wearing female’s clothing. He carried under his arm a large bag that had several pipes on it. One he was blowing in, another he was moving his fingers on; the others were arranged over his shoulder. It was he who was producing the agonizing sound.

The box was loaded into a waiting vehicle and the oomans began to disperse. Mercifully the caterwauling stopped as the player got into another vehicle. With senses cleared, Vek’rin’ka spotted Cass as she got into yet another vehicle. The vehicle with the fallen Arbitrator started away and the two other long vehicles followed it. A long line of vehicles formed behind the three leaders and the procession moved slowly down the street. Vek’rin’ka thanked Paya for the opportunity to plant the tracker the previous night. Keeping up with the procession was easy for the moment, but ooman land vehicles usually didn’t travel this slowly. If they sped up, he wouldn’t lose the female.

The procession finally came to a stop at a burial ground. The box was removed from the vehicle and taken over to an area obviously prepared for it. To Vek’rin’ka’s chagrin the same music that preceded the loading of the box at the building started again. He retreated as far from the noise as he could while still being able to see the proceedings. He found a perch in a leafy tree that would hide him even if his shift suit malfunctioned.

Vek’rin’ka watched a man in heavy robes perform what must have been a burial ritual. When the robed leader was done a group of oomans stepped up to the box and picked up the material covering. With precision they began folding it up. The material was presented to a female up front. Quite possibly, she was the deceased’s lifemate.

It was not until then that Vek’rin’ka noticed the small child clinging to Cass. To his amazement she was holding it back, comforting it. This was yet another pup that was not hers that she tended to. Was it the nature of the ooman female to care for every youngling they met, or was this one unusual?

Seeing several armed oomans raise their weapons Vek’rin’ka reacted instinctively. He dropped into a fighting stance and extended his ki’cti-pa. He stepped forward on the thick branch to meet the challenge when the oomans fired for the first time. It took him a couple seconds before he figured out that the oomans were not firing at him. They were shooting at the sky. Perplexed, Vek’rin’ka retracted his blades and cocked his head to the side in silent question. Was this ritual part of the burial he wondered as the oomans fired twice more.

The oomans began to move back towards their vehicles. The ceremony was apparently over and everyone was leaving. Thankfully the screeching created by the piped bag quit as well. Vek’rin’ka stayed concealed in his tree perch until the last of them had left. The ooman, Cass had left in the same long vehicle she had come in. Once the area was devoid of oomans Vek’rin’ka opened the wrist computer and checked on the tracker’s location. It was heading back towards the other that he had placed on Cass’s personal vehicle along the same route that she had originally taken to the burial ground.

Vek’rin’ka started to make his way back to the building until the computer showed him that both the trackers were moving away from the stone building. Changing his course, he began to follow the new trajectory. It led him away from the central part of the city into another area filled with residential structures. This area was far away from the female’s home and he wondered what she was doing here. There were several oomans here as well as the female that received the cloth from the burial. Though he wanted to get closer to find out what was going on there were too many oomans to risk being spotted. There were even children present, and they had an uncanny ability to spot even a cloaked hunter.

Vek’rin’ka had only just found a niche in the gable of the building next door when Cass came running out of the house. A quick scan showed him that her heart was racing and a soft breeze brought the scent of fear. Jumping quickly from his hiding spot he followed her to her vehicle, freezing when she didn’t immediately climb in. He watched her reach under the seat for a metal box from which she pulled out a weapon, a burner. Once it was secure on her belt she climbed into the cockpit of the vehicle and started the engine. Smoothly he leapt into the open back of the vehicle. When the vehicle lurched forward with a sudden acceleration Vek’rin’ka sank his claws into the metal of the floor. The vehicle sped through the streets as he wondered what could have spooked the female so badly.

XXXXX

When Cass had finally worked up the strength to walk into Gerold’s old home she had mingled absent-mindedly with the guests while avoiding Adams. The atmosphere didn’t seem right to Cass. People were eating and drinking. Raucous laughter was heard as friends and family told stories of Gerold in better times. This was not the somber reflection that Cass remembered her father’s wake to be. Everything just felt wrong.

Not wanting to attract any attention, most especially from Adams, Cass smiled when someone smiled at her, forced herself to laugh at the funny stories being told, and generally act like everyone else. Cass had seen RunningWolf at the funeral and the graveside service but it didn’t look like he had been invited here. She breathed a small sigh of relief that she would not have to deal with him trying to talk to her now. Right now she didn’t want to talk to anyone.

A nearby cell phone jarred Cass out of her introspective thought. Reactively looking for the person who would answer the call Cass sheepishly realized it was her own that was ringing. She quickly made her way towards the kitchen that contained fewer people so she would have more privacy. Looking quickly at the call display she saw that it was central dispatch calling her.

Silencing the phone Cass placed the cell to her ear and answered the calm, cool voice on the other end.

“Hadley here,” Cass’s tone was clipped as she spoke.

“Detective Hadley, this is central dispatch. We have received a 911 call from one of your neighbors reporting a disturbance at your residence.” There was little emotion in the voice showing the years of professional experience dealing with high stress situations. “We have sent a cruiser out to investigate.”

“I’ll be there in 20 minutes,” Cass interrupted the operator. She had felt her heart stop when the dispatcher had told her of a disturbance at home. Sonya and Joann should be back by now. What could have happened? She didn’t wait for the response before she closed the phone and bolted for the front door, fishing her keys out of her pocket.

As she ran through the front room where Adams was sharing the story about a murderer they caught last year Cass heard his phone ring as well. She turned her head slightly and locked eyes with him but kept running out of the house. The heat from the early evening hit her like a sledge hammer when she exited the nicely air-conditioned home. The concrete and asphalt steamed with the oppressive heat but it did not have anything to do with the cold sweat she had broken out in. Not breaking stride as she ran down the steps and across the lawn to her truck she reached it in less than half a dozen steps. Opening the door, she fumbled under the driver’s seat for the lock box containing her side arm. She was dimly aware of Adams calling her before she jumped into the cab and sped away toward her home.

XXXXX

Vek’rin’ka regretted jumping into the vehicle after the first sharp turn. The female’s piloting was erratic with an excess of speed. The vehicle pitched to one side and despite his grip on the underlying frame work he was slammed into the side wall on his left. His claws where the only reason he was not thrown from his place. The travel was so violent and unpredictable Vek’rin’ka dared not let go of his hold to check where they were heading.

There was another vehicle following them. It was wailing as other emergency ooman vehicles did. The wild ride finally ended in an area familiar to Vek’rin’ka. They had arrived at Cass’s home. The vehicle squealed its protest as it skidded to a stop at a flimsy barrier stretched across the street between trees. While the female bolted out of the vehicle Vek’rin’ka crawled out of the back of the vehicle. He briefly steadied himself as his knees threatened to buckle. Remembering that another vehicle would be approaching, he shook off the feeling and moved to his tree, quickly climbing up to conceal himself. There were several of the emergency vehicles present. Some belonged to the law enforcers. Vek’rin’ka recognized another of the vehicles as one that was used to transport injured oomans while medics tended to them. The only thing that he could think to have happened was that the family had been attacked. The child and the eta had been gone when he had arrived back that morning. Could they have returned home just to be assaulted? He asked Paya to watch over the young life and prayed that it had not been Al’brk’vix that had attacked the home.

He took a moment to sweep his surroundings. There was no scent of yautja other than his own musk, so Al’brk’vix had not been near the home. The strongest scents on the air chilled him. The scent of the accelerant used by the oomans’ burners was heavy and mingled with the scent of their metallic smelling blood. There was a lot of blood spilled somewhere. If it had been inside the home, Vek’rin’ka would not have been able to smell it easily. From his hiding place in the tree near the front of the home Vek’rin’ka saw many oomans scurrying around. He spotted Cass over near the medics’ vehicle being restrained by two of the uniformed Arbitrators. She was fighting with them and the medics to get to the building only calming when the ooman from the following vehicle spoke to her. Then he turned and entered the building while the two medics injected something into her.

XXXXX

Cass had seen the red and blue lights strobing as she turned onto her street. The quarter mile from the corner to the yellow crime scene tape could not have passed faster if she had been driving a sports car instead of a pick up truck. Slamming on the brakes, the truck skidded to a halt with its hood under the tape. Cass bound out of the cab and dashed under the tape. Two uniformed officers grabbed her before she could get into the house. Two other hands grabbed her from behind and helped the two other cops drag her over to the ambulance. Trusting the other officers to keep Cass away, Adams went into the house to find the person in charge of the scene.

The number of people inside house crowded it. Adams fumed at the lack of common sense being used at this crime scene. The more people that were allowed into the scene, more likely that evidence would be destroyed or contaminated. Passing through the front hall, Adams found the first detective on the scene in the living room talking with an evidence technician over the body of a young woman. Adams strode over to the detective and announced his presence with a huff.

The man turned quickly to see who had interrupted him. Before seeing the rank on the uniform he snarled, “What do you want?”

Unimpressed by the detective’s attitude and inept handling of the crime scene Adams retorted to the stunned cop, “I want to know why the hell you are letting all these unnies tramp all over the evidence. Then I want to know what the hell happened here?” Adams face had gone red as he yelled at the impertinent detective.

“Well, I, uh,” the detective stammered. He couldn’t think of a way to appease the obviously angry captain who was interrogating him like a suspect.

“Oh, I see. You heard about a glory case and are grand standing, aren’t you? Do you honestly have that little respect for a victim? For another cop?”

Properly chastised, the detective hung his head before speaking again. “We have one vic in here. She’s been shot twice in the chest.” The captain looked over the body that was lying on the couch. It looked like she had been caught asleep. There were powder burns on her clothes that indicated that the barrel was close when the gun was fired. Blood had run from one of the wounds to soak the couch and drip onto the floor. The other had apparently left an arterial spray pattern on the backrest of the seat.

Finally looking back at the captain the detective continued, “There is a second victim in the back yard. It’s a little girl.”

Adams felt his heart drop when the detective said that. Without saying a word the captain turned and left the room. He made his way through the kitchen where three more evidence technicians were working on a counter top. He didn’t pause to find out what they were doing at the moment. He made his way out the back door and walked over to the four cops milling around another body lying on the ground. It was small and in its current state it looked completely broken. The red hair was caked to her back as she lay face down in the grass. The three bullet wounds entered through her back throwing her forward when she had been struck.

The plain clothes detective that was tending to this victim walked over to the captain. “Hey, boss. Right mess here,” pausing before continuing he pulled out a damp handkerchief and wiped his forehead of sweat. “She was shot three times in the back. Doesn’t look like the cowardly bastard even entered the back yard. The techs say his boot prints end at the threshold.”

“Has the ME seen her yet?”

“Yeah, she should be back shortly to removed the body.”

Adams cringed when the little girl he had seen so full of life and happiness was referred to as ‘the body.’ He bent down to her and gently turned her head. He saw the face of Sonya. Her eyes, which had squeezed shut when she felt the bullets hit her had not relaxed with her death. Her face was contorted with pain and fear. There was no peaceful expression that many people expect from a body once the life leaves it.

The captain stood back up with his head hanging, slumped forward as if his shoulders carried the weight of the world. Walking back into the home he pulled a picture off the refrigerator. In it Sonya and Joann laughed at the camera. He then proceeded back through the house and out the front door.

Cass watched wearily as Adams approached her holding a small piece of paper. He stopped before her and looked down at the thin slip in his hand before turning it to face Cass. On it she saw her niece and her friend sharing a moment of joy. Her world shattered as Adams told her that both of the people in the picture were dead. Sonya was her light, the reason for everything Cass did. Joann had been a godsend after Faith’s death. Now they were both gone. Everything was gone.

Her despair boiled to the surface and exited her body as a gut wrenching scream as she started to collapse to the pavement. The quick catch of Adams was the only thing that prevented her from falling down completely. He held her as she wailed again, and would have continued to hold her had the two detectives not interrupted with an urgent need to speak with him.

Adams had the two paramedics hoist Cass onto the step of the ambulance while he went to talk with the two serious looking men. One of them, the arrogant one from the living room, was holding a clear, plastic evidence back with a piece of paper in it. Once they were out of sight of the distraught Cass the first detective handed the bag over to Adams.

“The techs found this on the fridge,” he said.

Adams looked at the hand written note inside the bag. Reading it aloud he could barely contain the anger at the end. It read:

‘Dear Detective Hadley,

I hate to be ignored. This is your punishment for slacking off my case in the middle of the challenge. If you do not start working again I will come after you and we can settle this mano-et-mano, or should I say mano-et-womano, since I have taken all that you hold dear.

Your dearest fan,

Gregory Burns’

The captain looked up and handed the note back to the two detectives. He left them standing there as he walked back over to Cass. With a hand placed on her shoulder he spoke to her.

“Cass, as of now, you are on leave indefinitely,” he said while adding, “And I won’t stand for you fighting me on this. We are putting you in protective custody.” Cass was dazed. She was not crying and stared blankly at the side of the marked car parked nearby. The second shot of sedative was finally setting in and she was no longer struggling to get into her home.

Adams helped her up and walked her to his car. While he was bracing her on his shoulder he deftly removed her gun from its holster tucked it into his belt. She didn’t say anything to him as he helped her into the car and secured her seat belt for her. Before getting into the driver’s seat, he walked around the back of the car and put her gun in a lock box in his trunk. Climbing behind the wheel, Adams drove away with her.

XXXXX

Vek’rin’ka cautiously moved onto the roof of the building. The tree provided a view of the front of the building and into the child’s bed chamber, but he could not see into the area behind the home. Once he was on the roof he moved towards the rear. There were a handful of oomans there surrounding a small form on the ground. None of the oomans made any move to disturb the body. Vek’rin’ka had seen this scene before. It had not even been one minor lunar cycle since he had witnessed the deceased child in the park being treated this way. Vek’rin’ka scanned the body anyway to confirm the identity of the victim for himself. Though rapidly cooling, the body was that of the female’s youngling. The infrared scan showed him the large pools of blood surrounding her and an internal scan found three of the projectiles that were fired from a burner. A low growl rose in Vek’rin’ka throat as he thought of the promising pup being killed in her own home, a place that should have been a sanctuary for her. Silently backing up, still watching the pup, he prayed to the Black Warrior to protect the little one on her new Path.

The male Arbitrator that had followed them to the area came out of the building and approached the small body. He bent over it for a moment before standing up and backing away again. Vek’rin’ka saw the body language portray someone who was defeated. His head hung in shame, his shoulders slumped, he walked slowly back into the building.

Vek’rin’ka thought about moving back to the front of the home to see how Cass would take the news that her pup was dead but he could not take his eyes off of the little body lying on the ground. As he watched her, his chest constricted and he wondered if this is what it felt like to have a z’shuy-de developing inside of you. He couldn’t understand why he was having such a response to this death. It wasn’t his spawn. It wasn’t even yautja. But still, he could not help but feel regret about this pup’s passing before her potential could be attained.

Vek’rin’ka remained silent, save for the low growl for several moments. A scream that could rival that of any produced by a kainde amedha queen echoed from behind him. It was a sound so full of grief and pain and misery far beyond anything that was physically durable. Creeping back toward the front of the home he saw the female on the ground. The male referred to as “captain”, who had followed them was holding her as she wailed again.

The decision was made right there. Vek’rin’ka vowed to himself that he would find the Bad Blood who had murdered the child. Even if he did not place the skull on his wall, there would be one less ooman to harm an innocent. What he needed to do now was to get near enough to the scene so that he could pick up the scent signature of the Bad Blood. It was possible that the entrance would hold some residual scent. Burners kill from a distance, so approaching the guarded body would most likely be unnecessary.

Cautiously, Vek’rin’ka moved away from the back of the building to jump down on the side. Carefully he rounded the corner and snuck up to the doorway. Keeping a wary eye on the group of oomans keeping vigil over the little female he slowly inhaled all the scents that saturated the area. There was the burner’s smell and that of much blood. He could smell even more of the coppery substance inside the home, a testament to more than one victim. The scent of fear was tangible. If Vek’rin’ka had been on a hunt at that very moment he would have been intoxicated by it, but it only served to heighten his determination to catch this murder. There were the individual scents of many oomans but one caught his immediate attention.

It was acrid, smelling of the objects that oomans used to weaken their lungs. The artificial stench mingled with the aggressive, masculine scent that was natural to the owner. Vek’rin’ka knew he had smelled this ooman before. The scent belonged to the male Bad Blood from the storage building several nights ago. The tension in Vek’rin’ka’s chest increased again as he retreated back to his tree. He could not hunt the Bad Blood that had attacked the family. It was the reason he had not claimed the kill that night and was now the reason why the child that had so captured his attention was dead.

A war grew inside him. He had the power to stop this Bad Blood from killing another defenseless child. Unfortunately to do so would make him a Bad Blood himself. The two factions wrestled within his mind as he watched hidden. Gradually the oomans started to leave and the tiny body and another were taken from the home. Vek’rin’ka watched silently as they were loaded into a dark vehicle and driven away. The female was apparently taken away while he was in the rear of the building searching for his own signs of the attacker.

Soon, all that were left were a bunch of oomans in suits that covered them from head to toe and two guards. Vek’rin’ka was left to ponder what he could do about this Bad Blood. He had never hated his prey before, but this one, while not strictly HIS prey, caused such a stirring of rage in Vek’rin’ka he could not just sit by and do nothing. With nothing connecting him to this building anymore he left by way of the rooftops.

He found a high perch on a mutli-family residential tower where he stopped to think more. The travel had done little to clear his mind. Still the war raged as part of him wanted to run his blades through the Bad Blood and the other part remained staked firmly in the roots of the Honorable Hunt. As the clouds cleared from the bright full moon that had risen the solution came to Vek’rin’ka.

It was not strictly keeping with the concealment doctrine that had been drilled into him for all his life but it would satisfy both Vek’rin’ka and his honor. He would assist the female, Cass, in dealing with this Bad Blood. Surely, the only punishment for such crimes was death and he would be with her until it was done. The loss of her partner had shaken her badly, the loss of the little one she so obviously cared for, that could break her completely. Vek’rin’ka would not allow that to happen. He would not allow that coward to defeat such a unique warrior with such dishonorable actions. He only had to find her and make his proposal. Without her turning on him.

XXXXX

Two dark colored sedans circled the surrounding neighborhood as the crime scene was flooded with emergency personnel. Inside one of the cars Cach fiddled with the buttons on a small machine the size of a walkman.

“How is this thing supposed to work,” ask the frustrated Cach as he flicked buttons while the machine remained inactive.

“Hit the button on the top left,” one of the other occupants of the car told him. “That will turn it on. Then you have to stick the lead out of the window.”

Cach did as he was told and the machine finally beeped its readiness. Cracking the tinted window he slid the small plastic lead outside. “So what exactly is this, anyway?”

“It’s a mobile pheromone tracker. Right now it is programmed with the signature of the target. If it is here the display will let us now right away. No more lab work to see what we have. And we can forget about changing all those filters all the time.

“And Charlie there has a new infrared scanner.”

Cach looked over at the man sitting in the front passenger seat. He didn’t seem to be holding anything. Cass looked back at the man who had spoken before, question plain on his face.

“It’s built into the glasses,” the tech said as he smiled to himself for fooling Cach. “The camera displays the image on a film on the inside of the treated lenses. He,” the tech indicated the mirror finish, “can see out, but no one can see the display from the other side.”

“Okay then. I want Charlie out there,” indicating the street in front of Cass’s home. “Check out the house. Act like all the other rubberneckers. Then meet us by the park.”

The car stopped around the corner of the block from the target house. “Check if the target is there. If it is following Hadley it’ll be there. Once we know for sure that it’s tracking her setting a trap for it will be easy enough.” The man called Charlie got out of the car and it pulled away to continue scanning the area.

A short while later the sedan pulled to a stop in front of the park. From the shadow of a grove of trees a man emerged and quickly climbed into the waiting car.

“Anything,” Cach demanded.

Charlie smiled broadly before answering, “Oh yeah. The target seems to like the tree on the west side of the house.”

“So it was definitely there?”

“Not much else can put out that much heat and not be seen,” Charlie quipped nonchalantly.

“Very good. Now we just need the bait. Too bad she is avoiding my calls.”