#.. eve farran

For not the first time since she set out from her house at the beginning of the evening, Talia wished she could shift. Prowling around was so much easier, more intuitive, when her wolf was out. Considering she was sniffing out the site of what was potentially another werewolf murder, it likely wasn’t safe to be in her pelt. No matter how much comfort it would bring her. 

That proved a smart decision when, a few feet further into the woods, Talia heard the rustle of something moving behind her. The forest had too many confounding variables to be sure, but she was fairly certain it was a human. Or a humanoid, at least; a person. Her shoulders compressed along her spine, muscles of her legs quivering. She was close to the body, she knew. Could just smell the hint of copper on the air that meant blood. Was whoever was trailing behind her the murderer? Could Talia be that lucky?

Talia loosened her spine by degrees, walking on as if she were just strolling through the woods. That’s all anyone would see if they passed her along the trail: someone enjoying a nice walk. Unless, of course, it was the ranger who killed the other werewolf. But Talia was confident that she could more than handle things if it was the hunter. That was half the reason she came out that night, anyway. 

The werewolf who had been killed wasn’t her kin, she likely hadn’t even met them before. But it was the second Talia had heard of dying recently and she would just have to forgive herself for breaking her promise to Oliver. An eye for an eye, after all. 

—

Another week, another corpse Eve got a call about. A werewolf had been killed in their wolf form, on a major hiking route. Now, if this had been a hunter kill, Eve would have given said hunter incredible shit for being so sloppy. There was a whole forest out here, after all, and The Pines were not her favourite place to be at night, considering everything that could be out here. But it hadn’t been a hunter who had called it in, it had been a spellcaster. Not their kill, either. Which meant that whoever had been out here might still be out here… and they might not be friendly. So Eve set her proximity sensors wide, only for one to send a vibration to her wrist just as she was placing the last one. There was someone nearby. 

Pulling her latex gloves off, Eve’s hand idly slipped into her pocket, where her gun was ready for use. Her long hiking pants rustled as she casually walked over to the sound of the noise, her left foot too heavy to offer her any stealth, right until she spotted a figure. Ever the one to look innocent, Eve called out in greeting. “Hi there!” As she approached, she realised she knew that face. “Hot damn, you’re Talia, right? We’ve talked online. Eve.” That was not a face card Eve would easily forget, but saying that was coming on far more strongly than she wanted to. 

“There’s been a chemical spill that way. I called 911, they told me to get everyone out of the area. You’re a park ranger, right? Could you pass that on on your walkie talkie?”

—

Talia had not been expecting the cheery greeting called from afar. Too tense and paranoid, ready for the first hello to come from a fist, or a blade, or a bullet instead, she whirled around. Only to find a vaguely familiar-looking woman before her, smiling. A lost hiker, maybe? Just happy to find someone to help?

But then the other person introduced herself and “Oh,” was all Talia had to offer, taken completely off-guard in her surprise. “I mean, yeah, that’s me.” Eve. The cute blonde who had helped her with techy stuff. Not the hunter who had slain a shifter. Or maybe she was. Talia hardly knew her, after all. Despite telling herself to stay wary, a smile crossed Talia’s face. “I remember. Fancy meeting you here.” 

Before she could ask what the hell Eve was doing out here, she explained. A chemical spill? Talia supposed anything was possible in Wicked’s Rest but it was a little too convenient for her to believe right off the bat. She keyed her walkie once but closed the line immediately, more like a nervous tic than a call out. “Chemical spill? What kind? Did you see it?” Not that she wanted to interrogate anyone who messaged her out of the blue to tell her how hot she was. But online compliments aside, Eve was still out there in the middle of nowhere, just a few hundred feet from a dead werewolf. A murdered werewolf. Talia couldn’t let that go without a few more questions.

“You should really get out of the area too, if it’s dangerous.” Even if there were a chemical spill, Talia had come out into the woods for a reason. If she could just get Eve out of there, she could still find the body, inspect it for any clue it might have and… And offer it a proper burial.

—

Talia was completely surprised by her appearance, which was fair enough. Eve had been caught by surprise too. And it was a little strange to meet someone this far out, even on the hiking trail, at this time of day. What if Talia was the killer? Then the question might quickly become if it had been that werewolf in particular, or if she was more of a serial killer type. “This wasn’t how I was planning to meet you, I gotta say.” 

Understandably, Talia had follow up questions. While Eve could easily make up the exact type of chemical skill, a tech wouldn’t know, so she chose a more convincing lie instead: “Not sure, it smells like melted plastic and sulfur, and a lot of the nearby plants look unhappy. Honestly, my lungs started to hurt just being there a minute. You might want to close the trail.”

“I’m on my way out of the area.” Eve lied, “You don’t have to tell me twice.” Even though she wasn’t. As soon as Talia picked a trail out, Eve would pick another, and then circle back. Unless Talia was the killer, on the way to clean up her own mess.

—

Talia offered a laugh, nodding her agreement. “No, I was hoping for something more along the lines of a very trendy bar with over-priced drinks that we had conned some idiots to buy for us.” God, she hoped Eve wasn’t the ranger responsible for killing the shifter. It would be like discovering Owen was a hunter – someone she had enjoyed in the online space and had been looking forward to translating that into an in-person connection, someone she wanted to get to know more and hoped could be a friend. 

“Although, I have to admit that a large portion of my time is spent in some random corner of the woods.” While being a park ranger really was Talia’s dream job, more or less, it also conveniently offered cover whenever she was trudging around in the trees for werewolf business. Speaking of her job, Talia took a moment to call out on her walkie, reporting the location and the suspected chemical spill.

The more details that came, though, the more Talia doubted the story. Surely, she would have smelled something like that. But… She had been focused on seeking out the shifter’s body. Fuck. The safest option would be to abandon ship, and make sure Eve did as well, and then double back sometime later, while paying more attention to any signs of a potential chemical spill. “C’mon,” she beckoned, chucking her chin to the left. “We’re not far from the connection to the main trail. That’ll get us out of the woods quick.” And then, almost as an after-thought though it was the main question on her mind, Talia asked, “What were you doing all the way out here, anyway?”

—

“Next time,” Eve chuckled, eyes sparkling. If only she didn’t have work to do this evening, she thought to herself. In an ideal world, she would walk the rest of the way back to her van with Talia, get to enjoy the gossip and flirting. Maybe she would even get to bring Talia home, after those drinks that they got to con men out of, Eve thought. But as they began walking, Eve was already looking for her way out, as casually as she could, looking like she was just admiring the fall colours. 

“I was just on a hike. Life’s been… a bitch, lately. So I was just clearing my head. Guess I walked a bit further than I meant to.” Eve said, throwing a side smile to Talia. “If I knew I was going to run into a cute lady, I would have done this far sooner.” She let the conversation devolve into idle flirting, until there was a fork in the path. When Talia went one way, Eve made her excuses and went the other. As soon as Talia’s footsteps faded into silence, she stopped her own path. Fun and games were over. 

 Eve cut back through the woods quickly and quietly, until she found what she was looking for: a shifted werewolf corpse. She unloaded a bodybag and a pair of gloves, and crouched down to the ground. no human had killed this guy, that was for sure. Something had torn them open with claws the size of her hand. Entrails covered the forest floor. Her hand rested on the chest of the corpse. Stone cold, tissue rigid. They had died a few hours ago, it looks like. Incredibly slowly. 

Eve heard a quiet movement, and her head whipped up, hand sliding down to the gun on her hip. Thalia. Shit. At least, if nothing else, they both looked equally surprised to run into each other. Eve huffed. “Shit, I sure hope you’re here for the same reason I am.”

—-

“I was about to make a joke about cute ladies in the woods, but getting lost on a hike is actually one of the best ways to find me.” While Talia obviously made time for fun and friends, the people she saw most often were those she had to lead back to a trail or call aid for in the State Park. Sympathy melted over whatever suspicious she had been fielding. She could relate both to life being a bitch lately and seeking solace in nature. “Sorry your mindfulness meditation got interrupted by a chemical spill.” She still didn’t really buy that story but was more focused on getting Eve out of the way than anything else. 

It seemed like she had succeeded in that and once she could no longer track Eve’s heartbeat, Talia looped back toward the dead shifter. She was so focused on following that trail, and keeping an eye out for any signs of a chemical spill, she missed the familiar scent lurking close. She was nearly to the body before she caught it and, even then, wanted to give the woman the benefit of the doubt. Maybe it was just her scent lingering from earlier.

But no– When Talia broke onto the scene of the dead werewolf, there was Eve, and there were her supplies. She hadn’t just happened upon this murder. Erasing any last hint of doubt Talia might have had was the gun on her hip and the comfortable way Eve was reaching toward it. Talia hated all weapons but particularly guns. It was incredibly difficult to keep track of the whole scope of an altercation when there was a gun in the mix. 

She didn’t answer the other woman, just kept an eye on her gun while edging closer to the body, to get a better look. Something had ripped the poor soul apart, and there was no telltale stench of silver. Whoever, or whatever, had done this was paranormal most likely but not a hunter. 

Eve clearly hadn’t just been going on a hike, but she wasn’t the killer either. Talia felt a trickle of relief trail down her spine. That was short-lived, though – what was Eve doing here then?

“Just…came to see what happened,” Talia finally said. She rose from the crouch she had settled into and nodded to the gun. “Promise you won’t need that. At least, not for me.” She didn’t mention that even if Eve got a shot off, Talia’s wolf would be the one to spit the bullet out. “So…you’re the cleanup crew?” The bodybag and gloves made that obvious, and Talia had heard whispers of some kind of network for that sort of thing. Which meant Eve wasn’t exactly off the hook, yet.

—

Talia did not look surprised by the sudden appearance of the corpse. She would know better than most that there were no actual wolves in Maine, despite the apparent sightings. She would probably also know that even if there were errant wolves, this wasn’t what a true wolf looked like. She didn’t look surprised at all by what she saw, just Eve’s hand on her gun. Which just meant one thing: Talia had been here for the wolf too. Or perhaps she was here for whatever had killed the wolf. Eve didn’t see the usual hunting gear, but then, hers was well disguised as well. Hell, the park ranger get up was one she knew several actual rangers used. 

“You should be careful with your promises,” Eve remarked wryly.  “We can’t be too careful out here.” But she lowered her hand slowly, gesturing back at the wolf corpse. The clean up crew. She smiled lightly, remembering just how many people at the three daggers called her that, in one way or another. Now that her name was getting out there with the fae and the undead (and hell, even some shifters), even more people were starting to recognise the value she was bringing to the area.  “Yeah. A spellcaster called me about this poor fucker. I wanted to move them before the golden hour hiking crowd came out here.” She grimaced, looking back at Talia sheepishly. “Sorry for the lie. I didn’t want an ordinary park ranger stumbling across this and then trying to figure out what caused it. I should have guessed you were more than one kind of ranger.”

—

A twitch of concern folded over Talia (fae was one of the few things she couldn’t sense outright) but Eve’s tone made her think the joke was just a warning, not a threat. Still, she would have to be smarter about her words. “Spellcaster’s not the one who did the deed though?” It was posed as half-question, half-confirmation. Sure, there had to be some kinda spell that could do this damage but. Occam’s razor. And Talia really didn’t want to have to go after a spellcaster. Magic made her fur stand up on end.

A grin tweaked at her mouth and Talia huffed a laugh that she hoped tracked as being in on the joke. More than one kind of ranger. Right. Let Eve think that’s what she was for now. Until she was sure what exactly Eve was, she was in a holding pattern with just a little bit of a lean toward hunter-aligned. Cleaning up killed supernatural bodies didn’t bode well for her, but so far that seemed…neutral. And she wasn’t a ranger, obviously, or Talia would already have a silver bullet between her eyes. “S’all right. Wouldn’t want an ordinary park ranger stumbling across this, either.” That much they could agree on at least. 

She trailed out in a spiral from the body, checking the ground and surrounding brush while she let Eve do her thing. There were definitely tracks from something she didn’t recognize, but just the one wolf. “Think he was a lone wolf,” she called back to Eve. “Doesn’t look like there were any others with him, or that have been by since.” They wouldn’t have to worry about some pack running through with revenge on their mind. Her eyes skipped back to the body, her kin on some level, and she had to swallow back the grief that hit her. “Where’re you carting him to?” There was a thriving underground market for supernatural body parts, Talia knew, and she would have to kill Eve on the spot if that was her plan.

—

“I don't think so. But then, not everyone admits that they're calling me about their kill.” Eve replied, nonchalantly, even though it was what bothered her most. It was bad enough cleaning the corpses her friends made, without them pretending that wasn't what they were asking for. Or pretending not to be the ones that did it. It would be nice if at least during one step of the process, people took accountability for the blood on their hands. She took Talia’s dry chuckle as affirmation, and relaxed further, unfurling the tightly rolled body bag and unzipping it to carefully lift the werewolf halves into it, taking special care around its teeth. She peripherally tracked Talia’s careful, scouting movements, and nodded at her assessment. “They died a few hours ago. Looks like the injury happened here, so I’m assuming that means it was quick.” Nothing worse than slowly bleeding out in a forest by yourself, waiting to find out if rescue would come before Death did. Not that Eve was speaking from experience. 

At Talia’s question, Eve sighed, scooping the entrails into a ziplock bag. “Not decided yet. There's no ID, so this is going to have to be a missing persons. There's a site further into the forest where I often take corpses like these, but with the rain recently it's a bit harder to dig the soil. Alternative is a crematory is Alberta that lets me burn bodies on the DL.” She cocked her head, looking back up Talia. “Why do you ask?” Eve asked, suspicion curling her voice. If Talia was a pelt chaser, Eve was not sure she wanted part of it.

—

“That seems stupid,” Talia mused, kicking through some of the leaf litter. Now that she had learned all that she could from the tracks, she was nosing around for anything else there might be in the area. It was pretty obviously an animal attack, but she couldn’t help but be on the lookout for any bullets or dropped weapons. Anything that might indicate a human, a hunter, had been around. “Not like you’re gonna turn them in or anything.”

It took a good amount of the self-control Talia had so carefully built into herself not to lurch forward when Eve lifted the corpse into the body bag. She wanted to shove the other woman aside and do it herself. To ensure that the werewolf, though dead, was handled with the utmost care and respect. Instead, she just watched, fixated, and was slightly mollified to see that Eve wasn’t just tossing the body around. “Let’s hope so,” was all she muttered in response to the other woman’s observation. “I guess you do this kind of thing a lot around here, huh?” High volume of supernatural beings meant a high volume of hunters.

Was there anyway that knowing Eve was a one-woman clean-up crew could help Talia? Not really. Following her wouldn’t offer anything – she got to these scenes after the fact. Maybe there was a chance that going through who she was generally in contact with could give some insight on hunters, but it wasn’t likely. 

The curl of displeasure that had hooked into Talia’s stomach released some as Eve explained her usual process. Not the height of dignity, she had to admit, but at least the bodies weren’t getting sold for parts or unceremoniously dumped in the harbor. Still. An unmarked grave or an anonymous burning? It was wrong. (It was all Tabitha would have gotten, if they had been able to retrieve her body.) “Just making sure you’re good at your job,” Talia teased. That would be a concern for a hunter, right? If they called Eve to take care of something, they would want to know the corpse wouldn’t just show up sometime later. 

She found herself staring at the muzzle of the werewolf, just poking out of the vee of the bodybag’s closure. His eyes were open and glassy gold. He could have been her brother, or her father, or any one of her uncles or cousins or friends. “I can help you,” Talia offered, voice not as clear as she would have hoped. “I mean, if you need a hand transferring the body.”

—

“Can you imagine? Hey officer, people regularly ask me to be their accomplice to murder, but this time I draw the line,” Eve rolled her eyes jokingly, but she could see Talia was distracted, searching the forest bed for signs. “Worried about company?”

Eve huffed a chuckle, relieved that Talia did not want to skin this wolf before Eve took away the corpse. “After ten years of doing this, I’d hope so. This town always feels like it’s half a step away from becoming a global incident, so the more I can do, the better.”

There was something in Talia’s voice that gave Eve pause, before she finished zipping up the glassy-eyed face under the plastic. She got it, though. They all had their triggers. A scene that felt a little too much like home, even if the corpse wasn’t one of theirs. A lot of hunters had moments like this, whether they liked to admit it or not. Here, a corpse in the wood reminded Eve of her own corpses, ripped to shreds by a werewolf. Perhaps Talia saw that too. Or maybe she was just one of the softer hunters (like Henri), who saw an innocent death, no matter who it was. That was not a bad thing, Eve thought, but she’d lost that empathy for the dead a long time ago. She just spent too much time around corpses. 

“Yeah. okay.” Eve replied, “My van’s half a mile west from here. But if you’re busy doing other things, don’t sweat it.” This kind of shifter wasn’t too heavy, at least. “You can lift the legs. I normally over-shoulder carry, avoid the back strain.” 

—

Her head tilted as Eve clocked her investigation of the area. A wry smile slipped over her face and she shrugged her shoulder, hoping to seem nonchalant. “Not worried. Just checking to see that he didn’t have a buddy with him.” No, the prints indicated the wolf had been alone. No pack to run with, not even a mate. Just a lone wolf. Running through the forest, on his own, and then dying the same way. Bloody and pointless. Talia cast her eyes up at the moon, just visible through the branches, wanting the comfort of its presence.

“You can say that again,” she muttered down into the collar of her coat. Wicked’s Rest was unlike any other place Talia had seen. It had become something like a home to her, more even than the packlands back in Montana. But she had yet to decide whether it was haven or paved to hell with its good intentions. She had never had to hide what she was growing up in her pack and the lines were stranger here, in this strange town. Not quite a secret, but not quite out in the open. She wasn’t sure whether it was no way to live a life, or perhaps the only way.