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scenes and although she had not seen Santiago at any of them, she had been aware of his presence nearby. She was vaguely disappointed that he hadn't called her and annoyed with herself for feeling that way. Life was complicated enough without adding a vampire to the mix, especially a vampire like Joaquin Santiago.
    Going into the kitchen, she pulled a can of soda from the fridge. The only good thing about the recent murders was that she was again on the police payroll, although it seemed wrong somehow to profit by the suffering of others. Still, the Department had asked for her expertise, such as it was.
    Carrying the soda, Regan went back into the living room, switched on her computer, and did a Google search for werewolves. If it turned out that Santiago was right and the killer was a werewolf, then she wanted to know what she was up against. As far as she knew, there weren't any werewolf hunters in the city, which meant the job was wide open, and she was as qualified as anyone else, maybe more so.
    She was about to shut down her computer and get ready for bed when the phone rang. She stared at it a moment and then, grimacing, she picked it up. Lately, whenever the phone rang, it was bad news. Tonight was no different.
    "Our killer's struck again," Flynn said.
    "Same M.O.?" she asked, reaching for her shoes.
    "Looks like it."
    "Okay, I'll be right there."
    "It isn't at the park."
    "Where is it?"
    "Uptown, behind the high school."
    Regan's hand tightened on the phone. "I'll be there in ten minutes," she said, and disconnected the call.
    Behind the high school
. Nausea roiled in her stomach as she slid behind the wheel of her car and drove uptown.
Not kids
, she thought.
Please, not kids
.
    Fifteen minutes later, she pulled up behind Flynn's patrol car, which was parked at the curb next to the football field. While alighting from her car, she noted that the M.E.'s van was also there. Taking a deep breath, she cut across a corner of the football field, her shoes squishing in the damp grass. She passed a couple of police officers as she made her way to the storm drain located in a ravine behind the field.
    The crime scene had been cordoned off with yellow tape. A number of uniformed police stood at the top of the ravine, looking down. She could see the M.E. kneeling on the ground beside the storm drain. The forensic team was bagging evidence, their voices low.
    Moving carefully, Regan made her way down the slippery slope toward the M.E. She felt a wave of sympathy for a young cop who looked like he was about to lose his dinner. With a reassuring smile, she hurried forward so she wouldn't be a witness if he suddenly lost it.
    Regan nodded to a few of the officers she knew, her steps slowing as she reached the crime scene. The bodies were sprawled in the dirt. The girl, clad in the bloody remains of a green polka-dot sundress and white sandals, looked like she was sixteen or seventeen. Her long, dark hair was tied back in a ponytail. The body of a young man wearing a mud-and-blood splattered white shirt and a pair of dark trousers lay facedown beside her. Both bodies had been mutilated. Both had been drained of blood.
    "According to the M.E., they've been dead about four hours," Flynn said, coming up behind her. "The girl's mother said her daughter went to a movie with her boyfriend. She was supposed to be home by ten. When she wasn't home by midnight, the mother got worried. She called the boyfriend's house but his folks hadn't heard from him. What with the recent killings making headlines, the girl's mother called the police."
    "What made them look here?"
    Flynn jerked his head toward where a tall, skinny young man stood, a dog the size of a pony at his side.
    "The dog found the bodies. The kid called nine-one-one."
    Regan nodded.
    Flynn swore, something he rarely did in Regan's presence. "We've got big trouble."
    "More than this?" Regan stared at the girl's body, her stomach roiling. It was bad enough when this kind of thing