The deep rumble of a muscle car pulling up the curb nearby interrupted Ky’s stream of inane small talk. “Ah! Beau’s here.” 

Titus scanned the street, his gaze landing on a black vehicle with a pair of red racing stripes bisecting it from hood to trunk. As the growl of what was probably a V-8 engine fell silent, Titus waited for the occupant to make himself known. He surmised that this wasn’t the first time this Beau had been called in to assist the department; the familiarity with which Ky had addressed him on the phone seemed to indicate that. And yet, despite the preconceptions he’d armed himself with, Titus still felt unprepared for the man that actually stepped out of the car.

The driver seemed to unfold himself from the vehicle like origami in reverse. He carried himself wound tight, his black chinos and deep blue button up seeming to barely contain the nervous energy he exuded. Wild red hair the color of fox fur fluffed up the top of his head and spilled down in a messy tail that seemed to be winning a fight against the elastic band trying desperately to hold it together. Wrap around shades hid his eyes until he stepped under the overhang of the patio and removed them, giving way to a piercing hazel gaze that Titus wanted to either stare into or look quickly away from with nothing in between. And up close, Titus could see the hallmarks of his Lyco heritage clearly in the points of his ears half hidden beneath his bushy mane of hair and in the jut of his chiseled jaw, all framing a wide nose with a clear hump in the middle from being broken at least once. That red hair also spilled out from the ends of his cuffs and collar, a testament to the hirsute tendencies of Lycos. 

Beside Titus, Ky got to his feet as Beau approached. “Hey, Beau! Glad you could make it.”

“Of course.” Though Beau spoke lightly, Titus could hear something dark hiding just out of sight behind the words. It made him think of storm clouds rolling across a bright blue sky. “What can little ol’ me do for the boys in blue?”

“This is Officer Titus Westman, in from Arizona. He’s here working on a missing teen case. Titus, this is Beau Black, our department’s Lyco on retainer.” Ky’s introduction came with a small sweep of his hand in Titus’ direction as he turned the discussion over.

“Well. You’re a long way from home, Officer Westman.”

Titus had to try not to shiver under that penetrating hazel gaze. He imagined for the briefest moment that this was what it felt like to be on the wrong end of a sniper’s scope. Even though Beau was of a height with him, Titus felt like he was all of two feet tall beneath the scrutiny. “Um…yes. Yeah, I am.” Not the best start. Titus cleared his throat and tried to get his shit together. “Yes, as Officer Branch said, I’m working a missing teen case. Sixteen year old Lyco girl with a history of mental illness and running away from home. We were able to gather information that she’d boarded a bus bound for this location.” 

The snort that ripped out of Beau’s nose made Titus have to stop himself from falling back a step. “Lemme guess. Your chief over there didn’t give two shits about this kid. And you…” He paused to sniff at Titus, which the latter found incredibly unnerving. It sounded like air being drawn into an enormous bellows. “Huh. You actually give a damn. Okay, then. Let’s find your missing kid. Presuming you got a scent item for me?”

Titus jerked back to himself, realizing he’d been mesmerized by the country drawl that was so at odds with the rest of Beau’s cultured appearance. “Yeah. Got a shirt that’s been bagged.” Quickly, he dug the package out of his briefcase and handed it over.

Fascinated, Titus watched intently as Beau turned the sealed evidence bag over and around in his hands. He had no idea what the Lyco was looking for, but he also didn’t dare interrupt the process. Hazel eyes darted over the sealed bag. Titus guessed he either found what he was looking for or at least nothing suspicious, because a moment later, Beau cracked the seal on the package. He shoved his nose deep into the bag and pressed the shirt up to the top before inhaling deeply. The Lyco held his breath for a beat, eyes sliding shut, then exhaled through his mouth before sucking in a second deep lungful of scent. Only then did he draw the bag away from his face and seal it shut.

“You checked any of the Nostu haunts yet?” Beau finally asked.

“Haunts?” Though he was fairly certain he understood what Beau was referencing, Titus had never heard the term before.

“Yeah. Places where Nostu gather to feed.” Beau’s look was critical. “Can’t imagine you don’t have places like that in Arizona.”

“We do. Just haven’t heard them called any specific name before.” Titus decided against admitting that most residents called them by much more offensive terms. Haunt at least sounded like it was something their community had created for itself rather than an offensive moniker that had grown entirely too popular. “Anyway, to answer your question: no, not yet. I’ve only been in town less than 12 hours. Why?”

“‘Cuz your missing kid’s a Simp pusher. The scent’s strong, like it spilled in the pocket of the hoodie and not in her system. Too strong to be bottled. This was in a syringe, ready to be injected.” Those hazel orbs slipped open and fixed onto Titus, as though waiting for him to refute the finding.

“Huh.” It was the only response Titus could formulate at first. “Our local Lyco said nothing about smelling Simp.”

“Then your local Lyco is a hack.” Titus heard disdain simmering behind Beau’s declaration. “Trust me. Uncut Nostu saliva has a particular tang to it that they just can’t reproduce in the energy shots. Your kid here was running loaded syringes for someone.”

Titus scowled, turning his attention down to the bagged shirt still clutched in Beau’s hands. “Well. That makes my job simultaneously easier and harder,” he grumbled, then hurried to add, “No offense! I appreciate your help on this.” 

“None taken,” came the careful reply. “I reckon you’re referring to the fact that you’re from out of town and don’t know the lay of the land here. Not to mention that 95% of your fellow officers don’t give a rat’s ass about a Lyco kid running Simp and would assume that’s the status quo for all of us.”

There was a miserable feeling in Titus’ gut as he was forced to admit that Beau was right in both of his assessments. “I don’t even know where to start,” he admitted.

“You got a notepad in that fancy case of yours?” Titus looked up just in time to catch the end of a smirk sliding off Beau’s face and answered with a nod. “Give it here and I’ll write out a list of the local haunts. No guarantee they’ll talk to you, what with you being…ya know…a human…”

For a moment, Titus wasn’t sure if the disgust in Beau’s voice was real or feigned. And it didn’t help that Beau fucking winked at him about it, then continued on as if he’d imagined the whole thing.

“...but it’ll at least give you a place to start.”

“I’d appreciate that.” The words came out far weaker than Titus intended, flustered as he was. So rather than dwell on it, he turned his attention to fishing a legal pad out of his briefcase.

Beau, meanwhile, apparently turned back to Ky. “Is that my coffee?” Titus didn’t hear a verbal reply, so just assumed that Ky nodded or some such. Which meant that when he looked up to give Beau the paper, it was to see the Lyco slurping black coffee straight from the carafe like it was a giant mug. “Mmm, thanks,” was the muttered reply as Titus handed over the notepad and a pen. Beau then promptly sat himself down on the bench and started scratching out a list of addresses, all while occasionally slugging down gulps from the coffee pot. The look of surprised concern Titus shot over to Ky merely returned a shrug. Apparently, this was a common enough scene that the other officer was not the least bit put off.

It took several minutes of awkward silence for Beau to finish his list. But eventually, he swigged down the remnants of his coffee before handing the pad up to Titus. “Names and addresses of all the Nostu haunts I know of within about half an hour of here.” Interestingly, he sounded a bit more relaxed. “Not private residences. Mostly clubs and bars. That top one I’ll check out myself and get back to you, if you don’t mind giving me a number where you can be reached. Like I said, don’t know if you’ll get any bites, but maybe one or two of them’ll give you the time of day.”

Scanning the list, Titus nodded. “I appreciate your help today, Mr. Black.”

That seemed to startle the Lyco; Titus distinctly saw his ears twitch. “Please. It’s just Beau. I have about as much in common with a certain fictional werewolf as I do with a can of chipped beef.”

Titus blinked in surprise. “Was that a…?”

“If you have to ask, then yes,” Beau replied quickly, cutting him off with a smirk. “We don’t talk about her out here. She did the Rainbow Mafia dirty. Ky, thanks for the coffee. Anything else you fellas need before I’m on my way?”

Ky gave Titus an inquiring look, which the latter answered with a small shake of his head. “I think that’s it for today. Thanks for your help, Beau. I’ll make sure you get your retainer fee by the end of the month.”

Beau made finger guns at Ky, of all things. “Aight. Lemme just get your contact number then, Officer Westman, and I’ll get outta your hair.”

Titus scribbled out his name and cell number on a corner of the legal pad in almost a trance-like state. He was so thrown off by this Lyco who just came in and took control of the whole thing, then chugged down an entire pot of coffee before breezing off again. Not to mention the fact that Officer Branch was just treating it like an everyday occurrence! Titus tore off the scrap and held it out to be plucked away by Beau. And just like that, the ginger Lyco was on his feet and sauntering away again. 

What the fuck just happened?