Evelyn did not have time to react when a figure stepped out of the shadows. A woman—tall, sleek, and radiating an aura of cold efficiency. Evelyn stopped in her tracks, keeping her expression neutral."Detective Cross," the woman said smoothly. "You’ve been busy."Evelyn folded her arms. "And you are?"The woman smirked. "Someone who knows when a cop steps too far out of line."Evelyn’s pulse quickened, but she kept her voice even. "If you’re here to threaten me, you’re wasting your time."The woman chuckled, shaking her head. "Threaten? No. I’m here to offer you a choice. That flash drive you’re holding—it’s dangerous. The kind of danger that gets people buried. Hand it over, and you can walk away from this mess with your career and life intact."Evelyn studied her, searching for any hint of hesitation. "And if I don’t?"The woman tilted her head slightly. "Then you become a problem. And problems tend to disappear."Evelyn exhaled slowly, weighing her options. "You work for Henry.""
Evelyn’s breath was steady as she walked away, but her mind was racing. Nathan’s words cut deeper than she cared to admit, but she wouldn’t let it break her. If anything, it fueled her resolve.She couldn’t do this alone. Not anymore.Instead of heading home, she drove straight to a small bar on the outskirts of town, knowing that was her hiding spot. It was the kind of place where people went to be forgotten, where secrets hung in the air like cigarette smoke. She walked in, scanning the room until she found who she was looking for.Mason DeLuca.Former journalist, now an off-the-grid investigator with a reputation for uncovering things that were meant to stay buried. He owed her a favor, and tonight, she was cashing in.Mason raised an eyebrow as she slid into the booth across from him. “Well, well. If it isn’t Detective Cross. You look like hell.”Evelyn didn’t waste time with pleasantries. She pulled out the flash drive and set it on the table between them. “I need this decrypted.
The city never truly slept, but on full moon nights, it felt different—like something old and wild moved underneath, a dark presence hiding nearby. Detective Evelyn Cross had learned to trust her instincts, and right now, they were screaming at her, a loud mix of warning bells rang in her mind.She stood outside the police station, drinking a cup of coffee that had long been cold, the bitter taste a reminder of the urgency that gnawed at her insides. The streetlights buzzed overhead, casting long, distorted shadows on the pavement, as if the very ground was alive with secrets. Inside, the station was a lot of activity—phones ringing, officers moving back and forth, the air thick with tension—but none of it reached her. Not after what her boss had just told her.Another body. Another night. Another brutal crime scene.The killer struck only on full moons, leaving behind the victims so deformed that even the most seasoned officers had to turn away, their faces pale and drawn. Five bodie
Evelyn barely had time to react.Evelyn couldn’t stay in her apartment. Not after the call. Not after the warning. The moment she stepped into the parking lot outside her apartment, a hand clamped over her mouth, dragging her backward. Instinct kicked in. She drove her elbow into the attacker’s ribs and twisted free, stumbling onto the pavement.A figure in black lunged at her. No hesitation. She fired.The gunshot echoed through the night, but the bullet never landed. The figure moved impossibly fast, sidestepping at the last second. A gloved fist smashed into her wrist, knocking the gun from her grip.Pain exploded through her arm, but she didn’t stop. She pivoted, slamming a knee into the attacker’s stomach. They grunted but didn’t fall.Whoever they were, they were strong. Too strong.Evelyn reached for her backup knife, but before she could draw it, the figure grabbed her by the collar and hurled her backward. She hit the ground hard, air rushing from her lungs.The attacker step
Evelyn barely drive back to the station. Her hands gripped the wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white. Damian Voss knew something—something about her father. He wanted her to know it, wanted to dangle the truth just out of reach.Her mind replayed his words, over and over."Do you know what his last words were?"That smug smile. That mocking tone.Voss was taunting her.But he had made a mistake.She wasn’t walking away.She parked outside the station, heart hammering. The confrontation at Voss Enterprises had left her rattled, but she still had unfinished business. Detective Decker. The cop selling them out.The moment she walked into the station, the noise felt different—forced, unnatural. Officers typed on their computers, chatted in groups, but there was an undercurrent of tension, a shift in the air.They knew.Evelyn’s gaze locked onto Decker, standing near the vending machine, sipping coffee like nothing was wrong.But he was wrong.She strode toward him, her presence like
Pain throbbed in Evelyn’s arm, a relentless reminder of the impossible truth. The nurse’s words echoed in her mind."They are, Detective. And if you don’t start believing that, you’re already dead."She wasn’t crazy. She wasn’t seeing things. The blood seeping through the hospital bandages proved that. The creature in the Red Hollow Club was real—impossibly fast, impossibly strong. A werewolf.And Damian Voss knew about it.The sterile hospital room felt suffocating. The fluorescent lights buzzed, and the scent of antiseptic burned her nose. She needed answers. She needed to move.Ignoring the nurse’s protests, Evelyn ripped off her IV and stumbled toward the exit. Her head swam, but she pushed through it. She couldn’t afford to rest.The moment she stepped outside, the night felt different—thick with something unseen, something watching.A shiver ran down her spine.She wasn’t alone.Her fingers hovered over her holster as she scanned the parking lot. Empty. Quiet. Too quiet.Then—mo
Evelyn’s heartbeat thundered in her ears as she clutched the evidence in her trembling hands. The photograph of Damian Voss standing over her father’s body burned into her mind.She had spent years chasing shadows, searching for answers that never came. But now, the truth was staring back at her.Voss had killed her father.Her fingers tightened around the old crime scene photo, but something made her pause.A strange feeling crept up her spine.Her eyes flickered back to the grainy surveillance still, scanning every detail. The dim lighting, the position of her father’s lifeless body… and then—Voss.Her breath caught.She grabbed another picture from the pile—one taken recently at a corporate gala.Her stomach dropped.Damian Voss.The same sharp features. The same piercing silver eyes. The same cold expression.Not a single change.Thirty years apart, and he looks the same.Her pulse pounded as she compared the photos side by side. There were no signs of aging—no wrinkles, no gray h
The night air felt heavier than usual as Evelyn stepped out of the station. The streetlights buzzed above, casting pools of dim orange light over the wet pavement. Ramirez was waiting by her car, his face drawn tight. “We need to talk,” he said, his voice low. Evelyn didn’t answer right away. Her mind was still replaying the moment Judge Carter dismissed the case, the moment her boss made it clear—Voss wasn’t just above the law. He owned it. She reached for her keys, but Ramirez caught her wrist. “Evelyn, listen to me. We’re in way too deep.” His voice was urgent now. “If they got to Carter, they can get to anyone. You know what this means, right?” “They already got to the chief,” she said bitterly, yanking her hand free. “That means we’re alone in this.” Ramirez exhaled, glancing around like he expected someone to be watching. Maybe they were. “I don’t know, Cross. Maybe it’s time to let this go.” Evelyn scoffed. “You want to walk away?” “I want to survive,” he shot back. “And
Evelyn’s breath was steady as she walked away, but her mind was racing. Nathan’s words cut deeper than she cared to admit, but she wouldn’t let it break her. If anything, it fueled her resolve.She couldn’t do this alone. Not anymore.Instead of heading home, she drove straight to a small bar on the outskirts of town, knowing that was her hiding spot. It was the kind of place where people went to be forgotten, where secrets hung in the air like cigarette smoke. She walked in, scanning the room until she found who she was looking for.Mason DeLuca.Former journalist, now an off-the-grid investigator with a reputation for uncovering things that were meant to stay buried. He owed her a favor, and tonight, she was cashing in.Mason raised an eyebrow as she slid into the booth across from him. “Well, well. If it isn’t Detective Cross. You look like hell.”Evelyn didn’t waste time with pleasantries. She pulled out the flash drive and set it on the table between them. “I need this decrypted.
Evelyn did not have time to react when a figure stepped out of the shadows. A woman—tall, sleek, and radiating an aura of cold efficiency. Evelyn stopped in her tracks, keeping her expression neutral."Detective Cross," the woman said smoothly. "You’ve been busy."Evelyn folded her arms. "And you are?"The woman smirked. "Someone who knows when a cop steps too far out of line."Evelyn’s pulse quickened, but she kept her voice even. "If you’re here to threaten me, you’re wasting your time."The woman chuckled, shaking her head. "Threaten? No. I’m here to offer you a choice. That flash drive you’re holding—it’s dangerous. The kind of danger that gets people buried. Hand it over, and you can walk away from this mess with your career and life intact."Evelyn studied her, searching for any hint of hesitation. "And if I don’t?"The woman tilted her head slightly. "Then you become a problem. And problems tend to disappear."Evelyn exhaled slowly, weighing her options. "You work for Henry.""
Evelyn’s pulse thrummed in her ears as she left the interrogation room, the weight of the recorder in her pocket pressing against her like an unbearable truth. Commissioner Henry Smith had offered her power and influence—a way out of the tangled mess she found herself in. But she wasn’t that kind of cop.She stepped into the dimly lit hallway, breathing deeply to steady herself. The station felt different tonight—quieter, heavier as if the walls themselves knew what she had uncovered. She barely noticed the figure moving in the shadows until it was too late.A cold hand clamped around her wrist. Before she could react, she was yanked into a dark corridor, her back slamming against the wall. Her instinct kicked in, elbow shooting out, but the grip was unyielding.“Nathan,” she hissed, recognizing his scent before her eyes fully adjusted. It wasn’t just blood and sweat—it was something primal, something that sent a shiver down her spine.His eyes glowed in the darkness, not red with ang
Across the table, Commissioner Henry Smith, a man known for his good authority, looked like a ghost of himself. His daughter, Isabel Smith, had been taken.The ransom demand had come hours ago—one million dollars in cash, untraceable bills, and no cops—or she died.Evelyn knew better. This wasn’t about money. It never was, not with criminals, this was calculated.She asked the commissioner if he suspected anyone, but he shook his head. "No one," he replied. "My daughter has never caused trouble." Isabel had been taken from her university parking lot in broad daylight. No witnesses, no surveillance footage—too clean. The kidnappers had either planned this for months or had help from someone inside. Commissioner Henry said“Detective Cross,” Henry said. “Find her. No matter the cost.”She nodded, but there was no comfort she could offer. Not yet.Evelyn went to Isabel’s university, weaving through the bustling campus as she searched for anyone who might have answers. She questioned stu
The precinct was colder than usual when Evelyn stepped inside. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead as she walked toward her office, her boots echoing against the tiled floor. But the moment she pushed open the door, she froze.A group of detectives stood inside, their expressions unreadable.Captain Harrisp leaned against her desk, arms crossed. His eyes held something she couldn’t quite place—guilt, maybe.“Detective Cross,” he said, his tone clipped. “Hand over everything you have on Damian Voss.”Evelyn’s fingers curled into fists. “Excuse me?”“This is an order. All files, notes—anything related to your investigation into Voss. Effective immediately, you are being reassigned.”A cold weight settled in her stomach. “Reassigned?”Captain Harris didn’t flinch. He reached into his coat and pulled out a document, setting it on the desk.“Harper Town,” he said. “You leave tonight.”Evelyn barely heard the words. Her vision blurred as she read the transfer notice. Harper Town—a quiet c
The night air felt heavier than usual as Evelyn stepped out of the station. The streetlights buzzed above, casting pools of dim orange light over the wet pavement. Ramirez was waiting by her car, his face drawn tight. “We need to talk,” he said, his voice low. Evelyn didn’t answer right away. Her mind was still replaying the moment Judge Carter dismissed the case, the moment her boss made it clear—Voss wasn’t just above the law. He owned it. She reached for her keys, but Ramirez caught her wrist. “Evelyn, listen to me. We’re in way too deep.” His voice was urgent now. “If they got to Carter, they can get to anyone. You know what this means, right?” “They already got to the chief,” she said bitterly, yanking her hand free. “That means we’re alone in this.” Ramirez exhaled, glancing around like he expected someone to be watching. Maybe they were. “I don’t know, Cross. Maybe it’s time to let this go.” Evelyn scoffed. “You want to walk away?” “I want to survive,” he shot back. “And
Evelyn’s heartbeat thundered in her ears as she clutched the evidence in her trembling hands. The photograph of Damian Voss standing over her father’s body burned into her mind.She had spent years chasing shadows, searching for answers that never came. But now, the truth was staring back at her.Voss had killed her father.Her fingers tightened around the old crime scene photo, but something made her pause.A strange feeling crept up her spine.Her eyes flickered back to the grainy surveillance still, scanning every detail. The dim lighting, the position of her father’s lifeless body… and then—Voss.Her breath caught.She grabbed another picture from the pile—one taken recently at a corporate gala.Her stomach dropped.Damian Voss.The same sharp features. The same piercing silver eyes. The same cold expression.Not a single change.Thirty years apart, and he looks the same.Her pulse pounded as she compared the photos side by side. There were no signs of aging—no wrinkles, no gray h
Pain throbbed in Evelyn’s arm, a relentless reminder of the impossible truth. The nurse’s words echoed in her mind."They are, Detective. And if you don’t start believing that, you’re already dead."She wasn’t crazy. She wasn’t seeing things. The blood seeping through the hospital bandages proved that. The creature in the Red Hollow Club was real—impossibly fast, impossibly strong. A werewolf.And Damian Voss knew about it.The sterile hospital room felt suffocating. The fluorescent lights buzzed, and the scent of antiseptic burned her nose. She needed answers. She needed to move.Ignoring the nurse’s protests, Evelyn ripped off her IV and stumbled toward the exit. Her head swam, but she pushed through it. She couldn’t afford to rest.The moment she stepped outside, the night felt different—thick with something unseen, something watching.A shiver ran down her spine.She wasn’t alone.Her fingers hovered over her holster as she scanned the parking lot. Empty. Quiet. Too quiet.Then—mo
Evelyn barely drive back to the station. Her hands gripped the wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white. Damian Voss knew something—something about her father. He wanted her to know it, wanted to dangle the truth just out of reach.Her mind replayed his words, over and over."Do you know what his last words were?"That smug smile. That mocking tone.Voss was taunting her.But he had made a mistake.She wasn’t walking away.She parked outside the station, heart hammering. The confrontation at Voss Enterprises had left her rattled, but she still had unfinished business. Detective Decker. The cop selling them out.The moment she walked into the station, the noise felt different—forced, unnatural. Officers typed on their computers, chatted in groups, but there was an undercurrent of tension, a shift in the air.They knew.Evelyn’s gaze locked onto Decker, standing near the vending machine, sipping coffee like nothing was wrong.But he was wrong.She strode toward him, her presence like