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“What an absolute shitter of a case,” Luke mutters, draining the last dregs of his beer and signalling for refills. Alaric nods in agreement, trying and failing to calculate how many drinks they’re up to by this point. Still not enough to wash the images from his mind, unfortunately. If Luke hadn’t been there to be the first one through the door, Alaric doubts he would have had the strength to make the arrest himself.
“I’m so glad you were there,” he says, helped along by alcohol into speaking these thoughts out loud. “I wouldn’t even have made it into that apartment if you weren’t.”
“You’ll get there,” Luke says. “It’s not easy.”
“You’re telling me.” Alaric rolls his eyes. “I can’t even go on a simple patrol alone without pissing off some street dog and ending up in the ICU.”
Luke laughs, obviously glad for the distraction. “Whoa, hang on, what? When was this?”
“About three weeks ago, I think? When you had time off. They needed extra bodies, so I took a solo shift. Wasn’t supposed to be anything dangerous. Only you know me, main attraction for bad luck obviously—I end up face to face with this enormous dog in a dark little corner. Seriously, the thing looked like a wolf.”
Luke’s laughter dies away. Alaric realises what he must sound like—scared of a dog, honestly, he must seem like the most easily frightened detective in New York. He hastens to grin disarmingly.
“Obviously a trick of the light, right. Still, it gave me a pretty nasty bite.” He downs a few gulps of his beer and decides that he should probably leave it there before he gives Luke the impression that he’s an absolute wuss. Then despite that, he finds himself continuing. “Since then, I’ve been feeling really off. Like—weird. And I’ve had my rabies shots already, right, and the blood tests all came back fine, but I’m just sort of itching all over, still. It’s like my mind is playing tricks on me. I keep hearing things.”
Luke has gone quiet, and worryingly still. Alaric gives him another grin.
“Hey man, I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to dump my hypochondria on you.”
“Where were you patrolling again?” Luke asks.
“Down by the dock. Got a report that some of the gang who hang out by that Chinese place were being extra noisy. They were all out when I got there, though.”
Luke breathes in sharply, and suddenly his eyes look like they’re glowing. And there’s something else, too—it’s like Alaric can see Luke differently, all of a sudden; like his mind is being assaulted by all senses at once and all of them jumbled. He closes his eyes and groans.
“Oh man. What do they put in the beer at this place?”
“Alaric,” Luke says, and there’s something tight and coiled in his voice. “I think you and I need to sober up over some coffee and talk.”