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"Make them pay."

"What?"

"I said make them pay!"

"Okay! Alright. Jesus."

Three slaps.

"Okay that's one, now give 'em one more to remember!"

Three slaps.

"Yes! Good job man!"

I got a pat on my back for my troubles. The man from Homicide, a grizzled older man named Will, grumbled to himself and got up from the table, pulling his wallet from his jacket as he went to the counter of the bar to pay for the next round of drinks. The lot of us laughed our asses off.

"Next round is on whoever loses again, man!"

Riggs laughed and gulped from his beer. I smiled and shook my head in exasperation. These men were too much. Gambling drinks on a game of rock paper scissors? Luckily I didn't mind some silliness every now and then. Takes away the edge of our line of work, at least for a little while.

Will comes back with a tray of beers and other drinks. I take my glass from the tray as he sets it down on the table. Bloody Mary, I don't know why but it tastes so good. I'm the designated driver though, and I have to stay at least semi clean. I promise to myself that this will be my last drink tonight and I gulp it. Meanwhile the guys are busy passing around a basket of fries covered in cheese and chili flakes, so I grab a few. It's just another typical night out with the guys, a weekly routine that we all had settled into for some months now. Keeps the spirits up and the mind clear, instead of being depressed and stressed and overworked.

At the other end of the table, Riggs was regaling the rest of the boys with one of his long winded stories from his years on the force. Judging from the goofy smiles and raucous laughter, it was one of the funny ones. I couldn't hear over the general din, but I knew how funny his stories were. I couldn't help but smile and chuckle myself. That man never failed to make me smile. Good friend, awesome person. Had his fair share of setbacks in life but, as fair as I know, he never let that get to him. Two years coming on three I've known the man, heard he was a good friend of my dad during his time on the force. When he heard that Andrew's boy was signing on, he apparently was so stoked that he immediately volunteered to mentor me once I was out of the academy, so he did. I became a normal trooper for a while, worked my way up to the detective desks, slogged long and hard, that I did. Then the chief decided to up me to Detective and put me on Traffic, but Riggs told him he wanted me in Vice. Daddy's old desk, he told me later, after my transfer was approved. Two years later and here I was, with one of the closest friends I ever had as a partner, trying hard to fill my dad's shoes.

Another round of drinks arrived, but I didn't take any. I was still on my first drink and I didn't want to any higher. Like I said before, I'm designated driver. Riggs and the gang laughed louder and I smiled, taking a sip from my drink. For a while, I forgot everything that happened in the past week. The start of this case, the mysterious figure, my transformation. I'd stayed in my disguise spell for the whole week, never once took it down. I wondered briefly if I should at least get used to living without it at home or something, but I saved the answer to that for later. Right now I was still human, and I had to be human too. No point mulling too much over my options once I had time to think for myself for once.

As tense as everyone was over the case, no one expected all our phones to start ringing spontaneously. I put mine to my ear. It was Evey.

"Daniel?"

"Yeah babe, what's up?"

"An all points bulletin was just put out, our killer's struck again, barely an hour ago, we're tracing him now but we need all you boys to gear up and prep for a takedown."

She was serious. Dead serious. I could tell in her voice, and I could tell that the rest of the guys were hearing the same thing from the rest of their teams. I stood so fast I nearly toppled my drink.

"Gotcha Evey, sit tight, me and the boys are on the way back."

I hung up and made to leave. The rest of the boys did the same. As we left, Riggs caught up to me.

"Dude, did we just get pulled into an emergency?"

"I think so, Riggs. Not even time to gear up. All we have are our peashooters and shirts and badges."

"Shit man, at least twenty years on the force and this is the first time I'm going into a situation naked. Jeez."

"Think my dad would've thought the same thing. Let's go."

Me and Riggs ran to our SUV. As we got in, I pulled out the car's radio and called Dispatch.

"Dispatch, this is car Lima Whiskey Four Five Niner, we are with car Foxtrot Tango Five Six and we need a status on an APB that was called in roughly four minutes ago by a detective Evelyn Troy?"

"Roger Lima Whiskey, checking."

For a tense minute or two we sat in the car, engine in idle. The other guys from Homicide were right beside us in their own vehicle, no doubt feeling the same thing.

"Lima Whiskey, this is Dispatch, APB is on a small white sedan, license plate Kilo Tango Gamma Four Eight Niner, driver is a Caucasian male, roughly five feet nine, blonde hair, medium build. Car is currently eastbound on 53rd, heading for the bridge."

"Alright thanks Dispatch. Cars en route. Send word to the chief for us."

We peeled out of the parking lot and sped off into the night. No sirens, but we had guns and a grim desire to catch this bastard before he could kill any more cops.

---

We stumbled across the wreck an hour later. After following the APB east across the bay bridge to mainland New York City, a 911 call was put out by a citizen about a car crash involving the car in question. We followed the instructions and found the wreck. Our driver wasn't in it, and the wreck wasn't a wreck per se, more like someone disposing of evidence. The whole car was ablaze when we got there, and by the time city fire department had put it out, the whole thing was burnt to a crisp. Techs pulled no useful evidence from the vehicle. Back to square one, it seems. As Riggs and I stared over the wreckage, I voiced my thoughts.

"This guy is a real professional. We got our work cut out for us, man."

"Yeah no shit. Like, how the hell did he pull this one this time? Kidnapping two officers on patrol without alerting anyone in the vicinity? Gone without a trace? Jesus."

"I know, this is getting into impossible territory. Let's just hope we catch the guy."

Suddenly Riggs' phone started ringing and he moved away to answer the call. As I gazed over the smouldering heap, I suddenly had a thought: what if I used my new senses to do what others couldn't? I walked past the crime scene tape and headed for the wreck. As I got closer, I let my mental blocks go, and instantly I got hit with a million different feelings and smells and sounds, a cacophony in my head that I did my best to quell. I pushed all the irrelevant ones out of my focus and returned my attention to the wreck. Charred, yes, smelled like ash and petrol. But there was something else there, a hint of something...nice. Cologne, perhaps? I followed the scent to the front of the car. There, in what used to be the dashboard. Amidst the twisted metal and glass, I prised free a small, burnt piece of plastic. Air freshener, pine scented. Did our killer like fresh smells?

I left the freshener where it was and stepped back. I looked over the whole scene again. Burnt car, petrol smell, air freshener. He doused the car with gas and set it alight, obviously to erase any material evidence. I ambled to the back of the car. The trunk was closed.

Aha.

I pulled on a pair of gloves I nicked from a tech and popped the trunk open. More air fresheners, loads of them, some charred, others that lay at the bottom of the pile were almost unscathed.

Idea.

I called one of the techs over and asked if they had a UV light handy. Turns out he did, a handheld one. I borrowed it from him, with thanks, and shone it on the trunk interior. The whole thing lit up like a Christmas tree.

My jaw fell open. So did the jaw of the tech I borrowed the light from. I called Riggs over. His jaw dropped too. After about ten seconds, he spoke.

"That's a lotta blood man."

"Tell me something I don't know."

"Well, there's a trail leading away from the car."

He pointed to the sidewalk. He was right, there were several splatters of blood on the pavement right beneath the trunk that led away from the car. I followed the trail as it went down the sidewalk towards a fenced off area with an apartment block. Abandoned, the sign said, condemned for demolition. There were signs of a demo crew here, but I guess they were gone for the day. The whole place was already prepared for demolition, charges placed and walls knocked out, the whole shebang. The trail led inward.

Shit.

I drew my pistol. Riggs caught my drift and drew his along with his flashlight. With him behind me we ran inside, following the blood trail close. It winded into the building and up the stairs. That's when we slowed down.

Double shit.

If our killer was still here, we would need backup. Two men against a trained and lethal killer did not bode well for the two men. But we didn't have our radios with us.

Triple shit.

I stowed the light as Riggs moved up to cover my front. I pulled my phone from my pocket and sent Evelyn a text with my location and a call for backup to be sent there ASAP. I didn't even wait for a reply before I had the light out again, on the scent and trail of our killer.

The blood trail led further upstairs. Roughly half way up the block it stopped and peeled away into the main hallway. There, we found the bodies.

I stowed the light as I rushed over to the two downed men, Riggs' flashlight giving me some sight in the murky dark. They were chopped up pretty bad and neither of them were moving. In their chests I spied the killer's calling card: prison shivs stuck in their chests. I knelt to check for a pulse on either of them. Nothing. They were all long dead.

God dammit.

I stood, shaking my head in disgust and sadness. Riggs turned to glance at me.

"They gone?"

"Yup, long before we got here."

"Shit man, how many bodied is this guy gonna rack up before we nail his ass?"

"If things keep going like this, not enough."

I barely heard the noise. In all our haste I'd gone into human mode again, but as I let loose and properly scoured the area with my new senses, I heard something. Like the sound of fabric brushing against metal and concrete. I didn't know what it was.

There it was again. I felt my ears prick up under my disguise.

"Riggs?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't think we're alone here."

"Shit. He's here?"

"Yeah. And close."

"Shit, we can't stay. We need our backup."

"Got that right."

We advanced forward slowly towards the stairs.

The figure leaned from his perch on the ceiling, twin blades in his hands. They crept slowly around me.

I barely heard the rustle of fabric and smelled a strong copper scent nearby.

Shit.

An arm closed around my neck and a knife tried to slice my throat open. I caught a wrist with my gun hand and knocked it away, catching the other arm with my other hand and pulling down hard. The killer tumbled from his perch and landed in a heap on the floor. I scampered away and aimed my gun right at him, flashlight on high, so did Riggs.

"Freeze, police!"

He froze in my flashlight like a deer about to become roadkill. I finally had the chance to look at this asshole in person.

He's a scrawny fella, shorter than me, so thin until his ribs showed. A lack of hair on his head and wild brown eyes on his face, wide cheekbones and thin lips. He only wore a pair of thin jeans and sneakers, nothing on his chest, so I could see the lattice of scars on his chest, like a spiderweb all over his body. He smelled clean though, almost sterile, and my sensitive hearing could pick up a very low growl.

It was coming from him.

I hesitated a little before moving forward, keeping my gun focused on him.

"Do not move. Put your weapons down and your hands above your head."

He didn't comply.

"Knives on the ground, buster!"

I inched closer. Gun trained between his eyes. He stared at me with a mad look in his eyes, like he'd just seen the devil himself.

"I said knives on the ground!"

I was within arms reach. He hadn't moved a muscle.

I was scared out of my mind. Why wasn't he moving?

My gun was almost against his forehead. My flashlight blinding in his eyes.

He moved. I started a bit until I realised he was leaning forward. His forehead kissed the muzzle of my pistol.

I never realised he spoke until I concentrated.

"Kill me."

---

A minute passed.

I was too stunned to move.

He was stuck to my gun, unmoving.

He said to me again,

"Kill me."

I stared down at him, shivering a little.

"But...why?"

He tilted his head like a puzzled dog.

"Because I've been a bad, bad boy, Daniel. And I foresaw my death in you, years ago, as scrawlings in the dirt. You are my end, Protector, and ending me will set your destiny in motion."

I froze.

He knew my name.

He saw right through me.

Shit. Not now, not in front of Riggs.

The killer stared at me, curious, almost like a cat with a new toy.

"Are you not Daniel? The whispers have spoken so highly about you."

"I-I am. W-who are you?"

He smiled. My blood ran cold.

"My name is Shank. And I'm your first real enemy."

He leapt at me faster than I could blink, shoving me over and tumbling over me to go for Riggs instead. He yelled and kicked the killer away, readying his gun up at him. He got back up faster than I could catch.

Riggs fired.

Shank dodged the bullet and shot forward.

Riggs fired again. Shank leaned to the left and dashed forward again. One more bullet and Shank was in his face, up in the air and sending the heel of his foot into his cheek. Riggs sprawled out on the concrete, out cold, and Shank directed his attention towards me.

But my mind was still caught on one thing.

He dodged a bullet.

He. Dodged. A bullet.

No, not A bullet. THREE bullets.

I readied my gun and fired.

He dodged it and charged.

Four.

I fired again. He slipped past like a shadow.

Five.

Another bullet. He ducked under that one and kept going.

Six.

He's up in the air, dagger slicing downward.

Everything slowed.

My hands reflexively flew up to defend myself.

His other dagger came up from below.

My gun hand shot down to block that too.

We're stuck in a lock, so I did what comes naturally.

I headbutted the bastard in the face.

I think I heard bone breaking.

He reeled back and grinned at me with blood streaming out his nose, then he headbutted me back.

Stars flew into my vision. I staggered back. He leapt backward to regain his footing. I recovered enough to get my gun up and fired another three shot salvo.

He dodged all three and came running at me again.

I don't believe it.

He feinted a leap and tried to stab my gut, but I managed to catch his wrist with my free hand, the blade inches away from my stomach. I brought his hand up and shoved my gun in his face.

I failed to notice his other knife sliding into my side.

Pain speared through my body.

He pulled the knife out and slashed across my belly. Glancing cut, nothing deep, but it hurts. He spun around and sliced my chest. With a step forward he slices across my side and goes past me. I think he's stepping away to give me mercy.

Instead he plunges the knife into my back.

I scream.

Everything catches up to me.

My life is flowing out from between my fingers. I can barely stand. I'm bleeding from many places, including my face. There's a knife in my back.

Shank pulled out the knife and left me. I couldn't keep myself up any more. I sunk to my knees, blood soaking my shirt and pooling on the floor. I was gasping for breath, too stunned at how fast he was and how badly he'd left me. I could barely hear him walk away behind me, stop and wipe his knives on the shirt of a dead officer, then come back. I felt his presence come close, real close, right against my ear.

"Mmm, looks like you're not ready yet, Protector... I understand. Your ancestors also were the same way when my predecessors tested them too. Always unable to pick up their swords at their first combat. But you'll learn, just like they once did. Then you'll be able to set your destiny in motion, just like they did too."

He patted my shoulder. I felt strangely calm.

"I'll be back to test you again in two years, Protector. I hope you'll be able to defeat me then."

He disappeared. Faster than a flash. I didn't have any energy left in me to sit straight. I collapsed just as Evelyn rounded the top of the stairs.

I think she screamed my name.

---

The killings stopped.

I was a hero.

I was also in the hospital with a tube in my arm, feeding me some strange clear liquid as I ate mediocre hospital food and smiled at the nurses that attended to me.

I also had the love of my life by my side every day, with her golden hair and bright green eyes, her gleaming smile and her soft, dainty hands. She was with me the whole two weeks I was in. So were Riggs and the rest of the Vice guys. They brought me good food where the hospital stuff was bad, lots of laughs to distract me from the pain and status updates on the precinct.

Doctor told me that the stab wounds barely missed any vital organs, but they were all very serious wounds. I would be sore for at least weeks after my discharge.

Surprise number five: I apparently had regeneration powers, cause within a week of my discharge I was back at my desk, no scars, no sore muscles, nothing. Riggs, meanwhile, nursed a sore jaw.

The chief praised us for our efforts. Even though we didn't catch the guy, we still managed to put a stop to the killings, at least for now. Everyone was relieved that none of them would be targets any more.

I was just happy to be alive. I had two years to get better. Then he'd be back.

Back for good.