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Captains (Uno, Lyra, & the Shepherds)

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Clay complained I wasn't breathing before. Well - I stopped breathing entirely as she made eye contract with me. Possibly, I could pretend to be another shaggy-haired pirate that entered into the wrong run-down bar. That would also, somehow, make everything ten times worse.

I took a few steps forward and tried to pretend like I had some business with Clay. I gave a half wave to Lyra, like I was just bumping into an acquaintance at an unexpected place.

"Oh... hi..."

"Wolves in sheep's clothing."

Roger muttered almost inaudibly, and his eyes fell on the window. Clay's nostrils flared. There was a recognition in her eyes. He was too late. She was too far over the threshold.

"Val." he muttered, shaking his head. Then there was a prickle at the base of his neck, and he heard Tyranny barking in the car.

"Reggie." his eyes narrowed on the door. "Best find that fire alarm, Newbie."

An officer, no matter the size, is bound to pick up attention in uniform. People had taken to notice the rising tension in the air.

Lyra's face flushed. She didn't know what to think, or how to feel. Was Val mixed up in all of this somehow too?

Hi? That's it? Just hi?

Sheep in wolves clothing.

Was she actually going insane? Had Roger actually said it, or did she just hear what she wanted to hear from him?

Tyranny was barking. Something was wrong.

Reggie?

She didn't know when her hand went to her holster. She didn't know why she was ready to draw it now. Maybe she just needed to touch something solid, to stop the sense that the rug was being pulled out from under her. Maybe it was a side effect of opening her box of broken memories. She was ready for the boogie man to pop through the door. It would have surprised her less.

She moved defensively to Roger's side, urging him with a quick gesture to get behind her and away from the window. She looked out, briefly, at her cruiser to see if Tyranny was alright...

Like a stack of dominoes, I was watching each piece fall one-by-one now that the first had been dropped.   My gaze flashed from the door to the windows to the back-exit by the kitchens. Tyranny's bark told all I needed to know. Call it a dog's intuition, but something bad was coming.

Lyra's hand was already at the tip of her holster.  I'm sure she had sense not to shoot it - just the same as I was sure Reggie had the sense not to do anything drastic in a crowded bar... but this day had been upside-down from the start.

I left Clay to the front door and crossed my way across the room to take the back-exit by the kitchens.  I had to pass by Lyra as I did so. I tried not to look guilty. But if this was a situation that needed control, then we needed at least all exits accounted for. There was nothing to be done about the windows - I'd just have to hope no one was determined enough to break glass yet.

Roger put a steadying hand on Lyra’s shoulder and squeezed. “Clay’s on our side.” he whispered. “Trust me.

Clay noticed the hand on the gun. His eyes asked that she didn’t use it. He watched Val go. Yet there was another danger Val didn’t see, that Clay was keenly alert to.

Tyranny was safe. No sound of glass breaking or a cry would alert otherwise. But whatever had been out there had moved. Clay seemed trained on it’s presence even as if he could sense it throught the walls. Then all grew eerily silent.

The power cut out.

Lyra's eyes locked on Val when he moved and she watched him go past her. She felt oddly reassured, like maybe he was some sort of guardian angel only she could see in all of this. Honestly, his presence made about as much sense anything else that had happened so far.

Then Roger put his hand on her shoulder. Clay is one of the good guys.

She hoped he was right. She wanted to believe in someone and she wasn't sure who she could trust.

Then the power went out. She froze like a deer in the headlights, mentally. Trying to process what had happened. It would take exactly 2 minutes for the human eye to adjust to darkness. Total darkness. But the bar had been dim already, and there were emergency lights.

Her gaze went back to Clay.

I strained every sense in the dim lighting.  The patrons of the bar were uneasy. Their voices had fallen silent, only to rise in a hushed sort of whisper when the danger is distant.  The sound of their voices made it more difficult to discern individual sounds. Scent, as well, was an equal land of chaos. Although I had spent a good deal of time gaining control of my secondary form, dissecting the overload of sensory input could still give me trouble in crowded urban areas like this.

I focused instead on the exterior of the building. It was easier to separate out the jumble of sounds inside from outside. Then I waited.

Clay met Lyra’s gaze, his own bright, tawny eyes catching the scarce light with a brief, inhuman glint.

Reggie’s intentions were unclear. Clay and Lyra had faced some form of discontent on his behalf earlier in the day, and that they were now both under the same roof was clearly anticipated.

As Reggie had yet to show himself, Clay moved closer to Lyra.

“I’d tell you to stick with me, but they always get the black guy first in Hollywood, so maybe that’s a bad idea.” as he spoke, he was removing his own gun, “Officer Cooper…”

“I can’t-“

”That’s alright, I’m not asking. Protect. Your. Girl. Keep an eye on the front.”

Cooper took the weapon with a steadily trained hand and an inward tremble.

Clay was off, moving quickly to Val’s location. The scent of Reggie was stronger near the back, mingled with the odor of bodily fluids, cigarettes, stale alcohol, and trash. There was a clatter and milk cartons toppled, but it was a stray raccoon behind the door.

“Watch my six, I’m gonna change, nobody gets back here.” Clay said, slipping out the backdoor.

Roger kept his shoulder near Lyra, and his eye on the glass door, the type that swung out..

I watched Clay go and took the exit by the backdoor.  My attention was split between the action outside the door and Lyra and Roger straight ahead of me.  Between those two focal points, I had no further attention to give elsewhere.

I was comforted only in the weapon Clay had lent to me before I left the precinct. Although unfamiliar, I wasn't to be taken as entirely without arms - even against a belligerent werewolf.

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