I could tell something was up as I returned to the house. There was a car I didn't recognise sitting in the gravel car. A grey sedan. Couldn't tell much of it or its owners from the smell. It smelled like a car. Asphalt, exhaust fumes, rubber, metal, plastic. Nothing to distinguish it from any other car in a major way. Oh, there were subtle differences, if I needed to follow it close, but nothing to let me name its purpose. So, I wandered on into the house, kicking off my boots in the entry hall. I proceeded to walk through the living room on the way to the kitchen. Michael and Sara were sitting in there, with a pair of official looking, and official smelling men. They looked up when I walked in. And one of the strangers spoke. "Mister..." He checked a sheet of notes, and then continued "Ulfsblutt, I presume?" He asked. "It's Ulfsbluut, actually," I replied, "And aye." My voice stayed level. The man spoke again, "We would like to ask you a few questions, if you've the time." I hefted the string of trout in my hand. "Can it wait until after I've put these away? Afore they drip all over the carpet?" Without waiting for a response, I went through and put them in the fridge, grabbing myself a glass of water before I headed back through. "I'm guessing you be cops, aye?" I asked, voice still level. "Indeed." Came the swift response. So far only one of them had spoken. If they planned on playing good cop, bad cop, they'd be getting short shrift from me. "Well. Ask Your Questions." I instructed them. And they did.
"Is one Miss Lydia Czernobaj your ward?"
"Aye, by the grace of the federal government, I am her Guardian." I stressed that last word. Not only am I Wolfsblooded, I am dominant amongst those who are. To defend those I hold to be mine, and to avenge where necessary, is at once right, duty, and compulsion for me.
"Are you aware of her recent ordeal?" Now, hiding knowledge of it could be useful. But then again, tis easily checked.
"I am. She informed me as we waited for the police to arrive."
"Then you are aware of the investigation into the incident." I nodded. 'Twas a sore topic that.
"And would you be sorry to hear that one of the prime suspects is dead?"
My response here would be truthful in part...
"Not a whit. Reckon someone shoulda blood-eagled the ones what did it. I'da done it myself if I thought I could get away with it."
That interested them. The one who hadn't spoken yet asked his first question.
"Blood-Eagled?" I shifted into lecture mode. Perhaps when I retire, I can take up a position as a history lecturer. I mean, I saw much of it take place.
"An old Norse means of execution. The one so sentenced would be bound on his belly, and then the skin and muscle would be flayed away from his spine and the backs of his ribs. The ribs would be cracked, probably with a hatchet." Actually, I'd done it myself with my claws, more than once. Many's the Grendel who died with the Blood-Eagle carved on his back. "The lungs would then be pulled out and draped over the back, leaving the victim to suffocate slowly. A gruesome, slow, and painful death." Apparently something of my memories had sunk into my voice, for the quiet one recoiled.
"Enough." His partner instructed. "Where were you last night, between the hours of midnight and two in the morning?" I was asked.
"Here. Asleep." Was my answer. Actually, I'd snuck out the window and legged it into town. I'd got the scent of her assailants off of Lydia, and whilst most of them had managed to remain hidden so far, one of them had not.
"Can anyone vouch for you?"
"Well. Michael here, and Sara, can tell you when I went to bed, and when I got up. I'd like to be able to tell you Vixen could do so, but she took Lydia camping to help get her over the trauma. Girl time, you know?"
Talkative guy nodded. "Vixen?" He asked. And I answered him. "Miss... Kasey... Renard. I just always call her Vixen. A sort of nickname, ya ken?"
Another nod. "And what is your relationship with Miss Renard?" He asked. "Complicated." was my answer."Interesting family you have. Three seperate people, three seperate last names. Why is that?" He asked, although I got the feeling he was just curious. "Well. Vixen... Um... Kasey and I have never married. Never saw the need. And really, all Lydia has of her home is her name. I wouldn't take that from her." Truth, all of it. Especially the last. When Lydia entered this country, she didn't even own the clothes on her back. "If that is everything gentlemen? It's just I could really do with cleaning those fish." I asked politely, and was promptly told that for now, it was. But that they would be back if they had any questions, and not to leave town. Fair enough, I'd planned on staying the rest of the summer anyway. If they wanted me to stay longer than that, they could take it up with Valkyrien. For now, I had fish to clean. Rather glad they didn't stay to see my prowess with a knife...
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