In Sickness and Health

22

The smell reaches me before I see the body.

Someone is already there, and I assume he is part of the scouting troop that was sent out earlier. He is crouched beside the body, gloved hands gently turning the man's head and I cringe as the bones in the neck grind unnaturally against themselves.

Stephan slips on a pair of gloves and squats down beside the body. "Whadda we got, Luke?" The man, Luke, sighs and sets the dead were's head down softly.  

"Thirty-two year old man, his license says he's from out of state. Broken neck. No signs of struggle." Luke pauses, handing Stephan the license of the dead were. "The weird thing is, I can't smell any blood." 

After taking a deep breath, it took me a second to sort out everything in my head. The strongest scents were Stephan and Luke, musky and masculine, yet spicy with the scent of weres. The next ones I identify are the smell of the forest; dirt, small animals, birds, newly growing plants. I pick up the smell of the dead man's cologne, the smell of aftershave and mint, and the spiciness that screamed werewolf.

As my brain registers the smells, I realized Luke was right. There is no scent of blood. At closer examination, there looks to have been no struggle at all. 

"No man could've done this." Luke's voice brings me back to the present. 

Stephan huffs in agreement. "Only a were with such a clean break. Or a really strong guy, but I doubt it." Stephan takes in a deeper breath, inching his nose towards the dead guy's neck. His eyes are sharp when he pulls back. 

"The killer?" 

I frown as Stephan sighs, face stony. "Maybe." 

I knew that look. Boyfriend was gone, warrior was here. 

"If there was no struggle, then it must've been someone he knew, right? Someone he trusted, or else he would've fought back," I say, "That, or he was snuck up on." 

Stephan smiles subtly at me and I couldn't help but blush lightly. What am I? Fifteen? 

"I believe you're onto something, Tony." Luke. "There's an element here I'm missing." 

My mate is checking the guy's neck. I watch as his face hardens in concentration. The man's shirt is pulled down to reveal more of his throat and chest. Stephan stiffens. "Look!" Luke and I are instantly at his side. "There's a tiny hole, looks like he was injected with something." 

Realization hits me. "Like a needle." 

"Exactly." 

"So," Luke starts, "What does that mean?" 

Stephan turns to look at him. "It means that our killer made it look like it was just a broken neck, but they had secretly injected him with something." 

I'm nodding along to what he's saying, but that still didn't answer the question whether or not the killer knew their victim.

*** 

Stephan takes me out to eat after, at a really fancy restaurant. We get odd looks, but ignore them. 

It's when our food arrives that an older woman, maybe in her thirties, makes a snide comment about us. 

I can hear Stephan growling lowly, but low enough so she can't hear. He's death glaring her and if I was her, I'd be frightened. Man, if looks could kill... It seems like she was frightened because she turns her attention back to her food, as does her husband who was chiming in. 

I smile and lean across the table to kiss my mate's lips. He smiles into the kiss. They stand up and leave.

A few minutes later a waitress comes over, looking slightly nervous. "Um, we've been getting complaints about you two gentleman causing a disturbance." She nervously shuffling on her feet and I feel bad for her. 

"Disturbance?" Stephan repeats, his voice harsh. I place a gentle hand on top of his and he glances at me before taking in a deep breath. "What kind of disturbance?" 

The waitress swallows. "I-I don't know, they were just complaining-" 

"Who?" 

The waitress looks at me. "I can't-" 

"Who?" I repeat, a bit rougher than before. 

She bites her lip, admitting defeat. "You see the man and woman sitting at that table with their two kids?" 

I look at Stephan and smirk. I turn back to her. "Thank you." 

She nods then quickly walks away. My mate and I both stand up and start heading towards their table. I watch in amusement as the couple's eyes get bigger and bigger the closer we get. When we reach their table, Stephan snarls, "Do we have a problem?" 

The husband, I assume, puffs out his chest, trying to act strong in front of his kids and wife. "Yes, we do. I don't want my children to be influenced by your... bizarre relationship." 

"Bizarre?" I hiss. "The only thing bizarre here is you trying to show your kids it's wrong to love." 

At the mention of them, the two siblings look up. 

"I'm not showing my children that it's wrong to-" 

"You're not showing them it's right, either. You're teaching them disrespect. How would you feel if it was switched, and we were complaining about you two heteros?" 

The looks on their faces are priceless. 

Neither of them say anything and we take that moment to head bacj to our table, pay the check, and leave that poor waitress a good tip. 

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