The only way to describe the person on the slab was as a lump of flesh. Raven squinted, unable to tell the species. “Did you test to make sure it wasn’t human?”
More than half the bones were missing. Or taken. The killer was becoming more adept. No bite marks were discernible. Hell, she could barely tell what body parts lay on the slab. The tissue appeared pale. Bloodless. She would’ve said vampire except they don’t tear and eat flesh this way.
Ross handed over the chart in answer to her question. She scanned the pages. “Another water victim?” She didn’t look up as she flipped through the rest.
Ross grunted. “They basically had to strain the stream to find what pieces they could. This is the bulk of it here.”
“The report says the enzymes are from a were. Do we know what kind?” Humans insisted on calling shifters were, short for the horrible movies that showed werewolves as two-legged monsters. It didn’t matter that shifters only transformed to the four-legged variety. The name stuck.
The doctor picked up his scalpel and sliced cleanly through the outer layer of what she assumed was the chest. By the thickness, she would guess male.
“Not, yet. The lab was backed up, so I could only run the quick stick test. I’m assuming feline.”
“Why?”
“Because of this.” He lifted up a portion of the body on his side of the table hidden from view by the torso. Inch long claws dangled from what appeared to be human fingers. Partial transition. Which meant a very strong shifter, as it took years of practice for a shifter to be able to call upon their animal in human form without shifting completely.
At least half of the nails were jagged. Not a lot could destroy the hard enamel of shifter claws created to cleave down to the bone.
But what drew her gaze was the set of industrial shackles clamped onto his forearm. Her own wrists throbbed with memories. The feel of cold metal. The heavy weight. Her pulse sped up. Her breathing grew shallow.
If not for the chem panel in front of her, she would’ve sworn this poor creature came from the labs. But there were no drugs or toxins on the report, nothing to indicate any of the abnormalities the labs inflicted on shifters. “The other bodies were all shifters as well?”
“Yes.” Ross didn’t bother to look up from his examination of the cavity he cracked open.
“Can you show me the results when you receive them?” She needed to get out of there, needed to think rationally. She had to follow her own advice to Dominic and not jump to conclusions.
“Hum-huh,” Ross didn’t pause as he started to pull out and weigh the organs. A piece of pond scum and a congealed lump of blood oozed down the side of the body. Time to leave.
The air grew thin. The concrete floor felt soggy like sand under her weight. She kept her pace measured, her expression unchanged as she trudged toward the door.
Not here. She’d fall apart when she got home. Energy crackled along her bones, her body burning with the need to expel all the pent-up current. It would go for the bodies first. There was no way she could explain to anyone how she could make a corpse breathe and yearn for life.
Damn zombies.
Chapter Nine
DAY FOUR: MORNING
London handed Raven the local newspaper without a word. The sun dimmed on the path as she walked, dread balling in her stomach. She shoved the last bite of food in her mouth, needed to replace all the calories she’d burned recently, the once tasty bread like sawdust.
Taking a deep breath, she unfolded the paper to the front page. The headlines blared: The Police Hire Specialist to Catch Killer; Is It Doing More Harm than Good? Underneath was a picture of Jackson and Scotts’ standoff, capturing the back of her head in the process.
“Shit.” The peace she managed to eke out after a few hours of sleep vanished. The nip in the air didn’t feel refreshing anymore, the chill burrowing under her skin.
London fell into step beside her. “They’re trying to raise an outcry so the legislature will pass the new law for the Regional Paranormal Liaison.”
“Legalizing RPL gives a gun and badge to anyone who’s approved.” Groups would accuse each other of petty crimes. Despite what she said to Jackson, she wasn’t sure this was the right route to take either. “It’d be all out war.”
“Maybe, but it would also give you the right to view any crime scene that involved the paranormal without waiting for an invitation.”
His comment surprised her. “Do you agree with what they’re trying to do?”
He shrugged. “Whether I agree or not doesn’t matter. It’s a ploy to calm the outraged protesters raising a stink. I doubt it will ever pass. There are too many normals who’d object to giving the animals more rights, let alone arming them.”