Page 10 of Bite Marks & Broken Hearts

8th October 2025 - Daily Report

Terrier - Followed up on the Finchley Road case. Three victims found drained. Confirmed rogue vampire. Forensics matched dental records to previous attacks in Manchester. Suspected new recruit of Marcus Vale’s expanding clan.

Poodle - Infiltrated meeting between West and South London wolf packs in Greenwich. Growing unrest about territory boundaries.

Noctule - Intercepted attack at Wilde Card. Target: human male, mid-twenties. Target suspected to have been—

The scratch of my fountain pen halted at footsteps down the corridor. I sighed and set it down on my mahogany desk. It had travelled with me through five countries before finding its home at Killigrew Street Hotel. One of life’s few constants.

A loud series of sharp knocks—Kit’s, for certain—dragged me to my feet.

“Seb.” Kit’s broad frame filled the doorway, his expression as rigid as his posture. Even after all these years, his military bearing hadn’t left him. Sometimes that stance of his triggered hazy impressions of other soldiers in other lives. “We’ve located the target.”

I gestured for him to enter, closing the door behind him.

“He left his building?”

“Affirmative. At seven this morning. Travelled half an hour north to some bakery. Surveillance confirmed he entered through the back entrance. Staff access.” Kit pulled a crispprintout from a manila folder.

Flynn Carter, twenty-five years old, a list of addresses spanning his life: born in England, moved to Braymore Bay, Ireland at fifteen, registered as a resident of London just a few weeks ago.

“This is him,” I murmured, touching the ID image. He was younger in the photo, and though his dark blond hair was similarly dishevelled, this Flynn had no dark smudges under his eyes. He gazed fiercely into the camera, a slight tilt of his lips indicating he was trying not to smile. I’d seen that smile last night—not aimed at me, of course, but at that foul demon, minutes before the attack. Flynn had smiled at the monster with such warmth and trust, without any inkling he was dancing with death.

It had infuriated me, his lack of basic self-preservation.

“Seb?”

My head shot up. “What?”

“You were staring at the picture funny.”

“I certainly wasn’t,” I snapped back. “Do we still have eyes on his apartment?”

“Priya’s still watching.” Kit shifted, his wolf’s restlessness showing through as he paced. “Permission to speak freely?”

“When have you ever needed permission, Kit?” The man had a habit of speaking his mind with or without my consent, just like his brother, Rory.

“He’s spooked. After what you said happened last night…” Kit’s jaw tightened. “The lad’s barely holding it together. Jumped at his own shadow the whole way to work.”

I studied the picture again, the weight in my chest growing heavier. “Time to go spook him some more.”

“We could send Felix. He’s far less intimidating than you or me.”

I barked a laugh. “Felix would probably just stare at Flynn for several hours until he filed a restraining order.”

When Kit clicked his tongue instead of laughing, guilt pricked at my conscience. Though he treated Felix like the rest of the team, his protective edge towards the shy tech expert—our newest recruit—betrayed his soft spot for the boy. He always did have a habit of picking up strays.

“No. I’ll go,” I said, throwing on my coat. “He can’t run away from me in broad daylight.”

“Though perhaps you should send someone else,” Kit mused, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “Given how your last encounter went.” He eyed my sorry genitals, still sore from Flynn’s assault.

Groaning, I straightened my coat lapels, and tried to maintain what dignity I had left. “The boy was frightened. It was a natural reaction.”

“Natural reaction?” Kit’s eyebrows shot up. “Well, you did grab him from behind on a dark street. What did you expect? A friendly handshake?”

“I expected him to listen when I told him to.”

“Ah yes, because that always goes down well with terrified civilians.” Kit’s Scottish accent grew thicker with his amusement. “Face it, boss. You deserved that knee to the balls.”

---