Titus scratched off another name from the list of haunts Beau had provided. That made the fourth place he’d been outright turned away from, the Nostu at the door pointing to a prominent sign reading, “For the safety of our patrons, only Nostu and Lyco guests allowed on premises.” Which was a polite way of saying that they didn’t want to serve humans. At a guess, Titus reasoned that it was probably due to fear. As bigoted as most of humanity was, it wouldn’t take much for some nut with a rifle to bust in and start shooting. And contrary to the fairy tales, it was all too easy to kill either a Nostu or a Lyco with just a single shot. They didn’t have any supernatural healing or defenses like in the stories. And yet, they still came with the added vulnerabilities: Nostu were highly susceptible to burns from UV light, while Lycos often had some degree of allergy to silver.

Scanning the list, Titus sighed to himself. He’d been at this for two days now. Well, nights really; it made zero sense to show up at a Nostu establishment during the day. They would only leave their homes when they were certain they wouldn’t fry, and that meant after sundown. It made Nostu well suited to employment during swing shift, or in places like movie theaters where daylight wasn’t an issue. But it also meant that Titus had to do all his legwork after bankers’ hours were well past.

Besides the four places that had refused him entrance, two others had let him into a section of the haunt reserved only for humans, and another one had provided him with an escort for his entire stay. And in those few which had allowed him entrance, the primarily Nostu staff hadn’t lingered long enough for him to inquire about the missing teen. When he’d tried asking the chaperone, he’d been brushed off with some comment about how so many people came and went from the establishment that it was impossible to keep track of one Lyco kid in all the hustle and bustle. 

It was frustrating. For a moment, Titus almost understood why so many humans simply gave up on just a single missing teen. Needle in a haystack indeed! But then he remembered that he cared. That every individual was deserving of a chance. Titus remembered why he’d gone into this job in the first place: to make a difference, and to change things from the inside. He’d decided on law enforcement as a career as a fresh faced college graduate. The reality was just turning out to be a lot harder than his more idealistic self from 11 years ago had imagined it to be.

Turning back to the list in his hands, Titus scanned the names again. He’d been avoiding the name at the top, since Beau had said he’d check that one himself. Titus wondered, not for the first time, why it had even been included in the list. It just didn’t make sense. If the Lyco was going to handle it, why even bring it up? Thoroughness? Transparency? Beau did seem like the sort to cross the Ts and dot the Is. And it was good practice in general for a Lyco to bend over backward to cooperate with law enforcement of any variety, even if Titus wasn’t one of the myriad jackasses who demanded abject humility from Lycos and Nostu. 

The thoughts chased each other around in Titus’ brain like hounds after a hare. Ultimately, all he could conclude was that he just didn’t know this Beau well enough yet to draw a conclusion. He’d only met the man once, after all, and that one meeting had left him more confused about Beau Black rather than less. 

Besides, Titus reasoned. He seemed to be fairly close to the location, if his GPS was any indication. He could just pop over there for a look if nothing else. And it certainly couldn’t go worse than any of the other places he’d already tried. Hell, just being let inside would make it statistically better than any of the four times he’d been turned away at the door.

Determination took over as Titus input the name into his GPS: Vital Signs. God, that had to be one of the cheesiest names for a haunt he’d ever heard. It was just a few blocks away, though, so he could swing by and give it a once over, if nothing else. Putting the little hybrid in drive, Titus managed to pull out into traffic without getting hit.

A few minutes and several near accidents later, Titus cruised past the front of the haunt. It was trying really hard to live up to that moniker: two of the three front windows were covered over in plywood and part of the neon sign above the door was flickering. The place would have looked abandoned and derelict if it weren’t for the line of alter-humans trailing halfway down the block. Seemed that this haunt was pretty popular. Especially when it took Titus two laps to find decent parking. He had to fight a subcompact for it, too, since it was a prime spot across the street from the haunt. The maneuver earned him a honk from the other driver that Titus largely ignored.

Titus also ignored the queue, striding directly toward the door. It wasn’t that he was intending to line hop, he told himself. He just wanted to make sure there wasn’t another “no humans allowed” policy posted before he waited for what would probably be a solid hour.

As he got closer, Titus realized two things. The first was that he probably needn’t have worried about being allowed entrance. A decent portion of the line was actually comprised of what appeared to be normal humans. The Lycos were easy to pick out, of course. And the Nostu tended toward abnormally pale skin, even if their fangs weren’t normally visible; much like a snake, they folded up into the roof of a Nostu’s mouth when not in use. Nostu also tended toward a more ruddy undertone, thanks to their need to regularly consume blood meals. It wasn’t their sole source of nutrition, but they tended toward digestive upset if they didn’t balance out a salad with a glass of “claret”.

The second realization was that the guy at the door seemed strangely familiar. It just took Titus several more steps to realize why. And then his steps dragged slower and slower until he was staring open mouthed at the man a few feet ahead of him.

The black chinos had been replaced by a pair of black skinny jeans ending in chunky Docs, while the blue button up had made way for a loose grey tank top. A charcoal trucker hat worn backward was trying to contain the fox red fluff rather than the beleaguered elastic band, though with about the same effectiveness based on the puff of hair that poked out above the strap. Thin stripes of eyeliner beneath the eyes made the hazel stand out in stark contrast. The formerly hinted at body hair was definitely in more evidence, yet the thick red pelt now bared by the sleeveless tank did absolutely nothing to disguise the muscles sculpting the arms. 

But it was his expression that made him seem like an entirely different person. He was far more relaxed here, chatting with the individuals at the front of the line as he accepted their cover fees and allowed them entrance. There was still a sense of tension about the man that Titus decided wasn’t ever going to be alleviated. But the hint of a smile tilting the corners of his lips upward made his face so much less severe than it had looked at the precinct.

“Beau Black?” Titus asked breathlessly.

A twitch jerked at the heavy, rounded points of Beau’s ears a moment before that intense hazel regard settled fully onto Titus. “Well, well, well. How’d I know you’d be the sort to not follow directions?”

“I…was just…in the neighborhood…” Titus stammered. 

It was enough to drag a deep chuckle out of Beau. “Were you, now? Having any luck on your business?”

“Ah, no.” Titus took note of how carefully Beau worded that. No calling it a case or an investigation. “No luck so far. And I hadn’t heard back from you yet.”

“Well, that’s because I’ve been working. Which I should get back to doing, since these good folks have been waiting a while now to get inside.” A carefully crafted smirk lifted one side of Beau’s mouth as he inclined his head in what Titus took as a dismissal.

“And what if I’m not here for work?” Titus had no idea why he blurted that out. But it definitely got Beau’s attention. “What if I’m just here for a drink?”

“Well, that would depend on if you’re still on the clock or not.” 

Oh no. Titus heard the note of warning that slid into Beau’s voice like a kid on a slip n’ slide. He needed to answer this very carefully.

“I was when I arrived, but I’m thinking now that I’ve done enough work for today.”

For the span of a heartbeat, Titus was extremely concerned that he’d just given the wrong answer. But then Beau’s face softened fractionally and he inclined his head again. “In that case, gimme a minute. Lemme just get someone to fill in for me so I can take a fifteen.”

Titus let out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding as Beau turned away once more and the pressure of that hazel gaze was broken. He also realized after the second breath just how sweaty his palms were. What’s the matter with me? Titus wondered, noticing the faint tremor in his hands. He tried to scrub the offending limbs dry on his trousers.

“Of course, you know you’re overdressed for this haunt, right?” 

Titus jumped at Beau’s voice almost in his ear. He hadn’t even heard the Lyco approach! With a quick strangulation of the yelp that threatened to escape his throat, Titus managed a nervous chuckle instead. “That…uhm…seems to happen to me often.”

“I can help with that. May I?” Confused, Titus glanced over to find Beau holding out his hands. His bafflement must have been clearly conveyed, as Beau continued, “Just wanna rearrange your attire a bit. You okay with having a virtual stranger paw at you a little?”

Oh. Titus felt his eyes go slightly wide. His instincts decided this would be a great moment to remind him that Lycos were descended from predators. This close, he could clearly make out the elongated canines Beau sported whenever the other man spoke. Both upper and lower. But he pushed aside the curl of fear trying to set up shop in his hindbrain and managed to nod. 

Thick nailed fingers moved with careful deliberation, undoing the top two buttons on his shirt, unbuttoning his cuffs so the sleeves could be rolled up to mid-forearm, and finally dragging lightly through his hair to artfully muss it. None of the movements even touched his skin. Yet when Beau finally stepped back to cast a considering glance over his work, Titus felt in complete disarray instead of just mildly tousled.

“It’ll do,” Beau proclaimed. “Do you even own jeans?”

“Yes,” Titus snipped a little defensively.

Beau seemed to ponder this for a moment. “Wrong question, I guess. Did you bring any with you?”

“I mean, not tonight.” For some reason, Titus felt a blush start to heat his cheeks. “But I’ve got some back in my luggage. Why?”

“Because no matter what I do, you still manage to somehow scream, ‘I’m a cop’. And I’m fairly sure it’s the crisp pressed, navy blue slacks.” 

The glitter in Beau’s eyes confirmed for Titus that he was definitely being teased.