Nephalim

Chapter 1: Cain Adamson

I awoke at my desk, my head pounding as if it was hit by a freight train. A bottle of scotch laid on it side amongst the clutter of papers. I grabbed the bottle and lifted it to my mouth. Empty. I cursed and tossed it at the bin beside my desk, and watched as it shattered on the floor around it.

I opened up a drawer and took out another bottle. I could tell by the weight that this one was indeed full. I smiled to my self as I opened the bottle. I brought it to my lips, but before I could consume the sweet nectar that lay within, my door burst open.

Two men stood in my doorway, with three more in the hall behind them. The three in the hall, were armed to the teeth, silver swords, weapons made to kill lycans, sheathed, assault rifles slung around their neck, CPD proudly displayed on their chests.

Of the two that rudely barged into my office, I recognised one. Short, portly, and reeking of old smokes and bad booze, Detective Markus Solwinski, my former partner. Standing next to him was a tall, slender elf, with a wand and grimoire strapped to its side. As you would expect from most of the fair folk, its androgynous form left little information to define its gender, yet still carried that air of self righteous arrogance.

I scowled and put the bottle down. "Whatever it is Markus," I said, my voice scratchy from a night of drinking, "you can wait. Office hours are from 8 to 5, and I have yet to have my breakfast."

The two shared a glance, then the elf spoke, its voice carried a musical note to it. "Mr. Adamson, it is already ten minutes passed the hour. We have been waiting patiently for you to open. I offer my deepest apologies for Detective Solwinski's brash decision to barge in."

Arrogant prick.

"Shit, that late already," I said, pulling out two glasses from the drawer. I poured the booze into the cups and offered it to them. Solwinski shook his head, as did the elf. I shrugged and drank from the bottle. "So why are you here?"

Solwinski spoke this time. "We are here about a murder."

"I ain't a cop anymore. Your 'holier than thou' chief saw to that."

"Look Cain," Solwinski said, "you know damn well I had nothing to do with you getting fired. The chief just thought, that you know, because of your heri-"

I slammed the bottle down and pointed an assucatory finger. "Stop beating around the bush, Markus. I know the Chief thought having a Nephalim on the force was too risky, but you, and your spineless fae did not come down here to check on me. Now tell me why should I listen to you about this murder, or fuck off."

"Alright, fine, fuck you, and fuck your demon loving mother," he said, slamming a manilla folder on my desk. "This is why we are here, ya prick." The elf shot Markus a dirty look. Markus put up his hand and mouthed 'it's okay'.

I grunted and grabbed the folder. "This better be worth my time, or else I'm charging your ass double." I opened it up, and my jaw dropped. I quickly went through the pages, once, twice. It was...

"Unbelievable, right?" Markus said, grabbing his drink and sitting down. "Celestial, found murdered in the early hours this morning, blood drained as if by a dirty Vamp, and the only witness, and possible suspect, is an undocumented Lycanthrope, you know, a schmoo who changes into a monster when they get their panties in knot. Oh, and get this," he smiled a bit, "the cabra variety."

"Horseshit."

"What Detective Solwinski is true," said the elf, placing a smaller folder on my desk. "Miguel Acosta, aged 43, native of California, Chupacabra."

"Yeah, that guy," said Markus lighting up a cigarette. "We found him about an hour ago drinking some poor goat's blood out in the boonies. Poor son of a bitch was full cabra, something spooked him good."