Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
- Edgar Allan Poe, The Raven

“It’s going to be fine, he said...what a load of bull shh-shit!” The teenager let out a startled squawk as he slipped on a sheet of black ice. His feet coming out from underneath him, he started to fall backwards but managed to angle himself so that he fell with a loud crunch in a snow bank rather than on the hard cement. With a low growl he pushed himself up and dusted as much snow off of his clothes as he could, “C’mon Corbin, you got this. You’ve been in worse situations.” He muttered to himself, pulling the ratty red hoodie closer around his lithe frame, “Besides, it’s just a little far-”

            The sound of a lone howl shattered the stillness that had settled around the dark streets. Corbin hadn’t realised just how quiet it had been until the sound had passed. Too quickly had a chorus of howls start to resonate off  the buildings and sing a thrilling song. Cursing under his breath, he broke out into a run. He had to get out of the alleys, out of the dark corners of the city, and back on to a main street where regular people were still in the process of going about their day. It was still early enough that he could dive into a random store and wait for the wolves to pass by. Wishful thinking, he knew that they could sniff him out of a crowd –he’d been out on the streets long enough that  a human probably could do the same as well, but it was wishful thinking that kept him going. Kept him running and turning corners, kept him on his feet when the tattered Converse threatened to slip and bring him crashing to the ground on concealed ice. Another corner turned and Stiles could see the red and green glow of traffic lights in the distance.

So close.

The moment freedom was within his reach, he was yanked back into the darkness with a sharp tug on the hood of his sweater. The hand that grabbed him twisted the fabric, cutting off his airway as it dragged him back around a corner where it threw him to the ground. Corbin coughed, dry heaving slightly as he regained his breath, and rubbed his throat. All his senses on high alert as he heard the heavy footsteps of a man who carried himself with purpose, Corbin closed his eyes.

“My dear boy,” the velvety smooth voice broke through and any hope Corbin had of surviving the night shattered with the silence, “I wonder, do you know where you are?”

“In the middle of a B Horror film,” he grinned, “C’mon Wolfman, show me your teeth.”

The grin slipped from Corbin’s lips as the eyes of the man above him turned hellfire red. Around him the eyes of the other wolves glowed multiple shades of yellow and orange as they growled and stalked closer, only yielding when the man raised a hand, “Now Corbin, let’s drop the bravado shall we.” It wasn’t a suggestion. The wolf that had pulled Corbin from safety grabbed him by the back of his sweater and hauled him to his feet once more, bringing the teenager face to face with eyes that burned so red it was as though he could feel the heat of a flame on his frozen skin,

“What do you want, Silas.”

Silas smirked, grabbing Corbin by the chin he roughly tilted the teens head up, “What makes you think I want anything from you.”

“Because,” Corbin resisted the urge to roll his eyes, “if you didn’t...you would have killed me by now.”

“You’re such a clever little birdie.” Silas stood up straight and turned his back to the teenager, folding his arms across his chest as he looked out into the darkness, “I want information, Corbin,” with a sharp snap of his coat Silas turned back to face Corbin, his eyes still glowing their Alpha red, “I want all the names and faces you’ve been keeping safe.”

Corbin let his head fall forward, unkempt hair falling over his face and hiding his eyes that glared venomously at the ground, “Like hell I’m going to give you any of that.”

The smirk slowly turned into a devilish smile that made the werewolf’s face look as though it was going to crack around the seams and reveal the monster that hide just below the surface, “I didn’t think you would give in so easily. You’re a fighter, Corbin, but you’re also a survivor,” raising a hand Silas flexed his fingers, bringing out razor sharp claws. With his index finger, he traced a line down Corbin’s jaw, eyes glittering with crazed mirth, “I wonder how long it will take for your fight to break and basic self preservation takes control, hmm?”

Corbin swallowed, auditable even to his own ears, and turned his head away from Silas’s gaze, “Probably a lot longer than you’re giving me credit for.” His bravery gave way to snarky comebacks, his brain-to-mouth filter long gone, and he waited in the pained silence that followed.

Silas barked out a deep rumble of a laugh, “Very well then. Let’s go.” He walked passed them, silently despite how heavy his steps had been moments before, and motioned for the other wolves to follow suit. The large man holding on to Corbin raised his free hand, and the teenager had a moment to register it in his peripheral vision before the world went completely black.

xxx

The wind whipped at his face, making the short walk from his car to the station's door a cold one, as he pulled his leather jacket tighter around himself. He used his shoulder to push the door open and let out a soft sigh when the heat of the building washed over him. Taking a couple steps into the lobby, he raised an eyebrow at two approaching officers,

"Where are you two going, in such a hurry?"

One of the officers, a young woman with bright red hair, stopped and gave him a tight smile, "We're responding to a ten-ninety-nine, Zeev."

Zeev nodded and stepped to the side, watching the two officers jog towards their cruiser, before he made his way towards his office. 

Walking past all the desks, he ignored the mocking howls that were thrown around. Rookie cops, who thought they knew everything and didn't take shit from anyone, were the worst for it, "Hey, Pup, see you came back with your tail between yours legs!" Someone called from the other side of the room. Zeev held down the growl that threatened to bubble to the surface and dug his nails into his palm. He slammed the door of his office closed behind him, making the blond man behind one of the two desks jump,

"What the hell, Zeev, your eyes are glowing."

Zeev threw himself in the empty chair and spun around to face the desk, "All I want to do, is my job." He snarled as he ran his hands through short, black, hair and down his face where the persistent five o'clock shadow was starting to turn into a mass of stubble. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath he leaned back in the seat and tilted his head backwards, opening his eyes to glare hotly at the ceiling, "No one is taking this case seriously, and more people are turning up dead because of it."

"That's not true. I can list three people who are taking this very seriously."

"I'm listening, Vince."

"You," Zeev snorted, Vince rolled his eyes and continued, "Me, and Paul." Vince leaned back, semi copying Zeev's posture, and folded his arms across his chest, slowly shaking his head, "You have to stop letting the rooks get to you. You've been on the force, hell you've been alive for nearly a decade longer than most of them -and on top of it all, you're one damn good detective."

Zeev didn't say anything. He turned his head to look out the window, watching as the snow fell in thick clumps onto the street below, and let out a sigh. Shifting in his seat he slipped his jacket off and hung it over the back of his chair. Rolling up the sleeves of his blue Henley, Zeev opened the top drawer of his desk just as his cell phone started to beep. Taking the phone out of his pocket he swiped his thumb across the screen and frowned, Vince raised an eyebrow,

"What's the damage?"

"I just received a text, from my informant...saying that they arrived at the safe house."

"That's good isn't? Weren't they in a little over their heads for the last couple of months."

Zeev set the cell phone on his desk and pulled a small, brown, plastic bottle out of the drawer and twisted the cap open, "Yes, but," he paused as he counted out three yellow pills and swallowed them dry, "Whenever they stay at the safe house they call, from the safe house line directly to my desk. They know that using my personal number is emergency only."

"You think something's up then?"

"I think-" The door pushed open, cutting Zeev off mid-sentence, and in walked a tall man with balding grey hair. Zeev and Vince stood up, "Sir?"

"Another body's been found. Hatchet Lake, out on Prospect, same M.O."

"Thanks, Paul." Zeev didn't miss a beat, grabbing his jacket and pulling it back on as he walked out of the office. Vince was right behind him followed closely by Paul, who paused outside of the door to his office,

"Come back once you're done there. I need to talk to you both."

Vince waved in acknowledgement as he jogged to catch up with Zeev. By the time he had caught up with the other detective, Zeev was opening the door to his car and about to get in, "You know...a little patience wouldn't kill you."

"I get a text instead of a call, and then a body shows up? I don't have time to for patience." He closed the door as Vince slid into the passenger seat and put a hand on his shoulder,

"Look, I highly doubt that it's going to be them. Most often when an informant is found out, it's a lot more public and made a message for the officer they were working for."

"Your optimism is contagious, really." He deadpanned as he backed out of the parking lot and sped down the street, lights flashing.

xxx