150 Bait?

I raised an eyebrow as I went through the crime scene pictures. I passed them to Mathew as I was done with them so he could study as well.

"We have no clues to go on and no idea where to go next," grunted Mike as he took another sip of his drink. "Frankly, I've never seen anything like this, and that is saying something since this is New York."

I nodded my head in agreement on both fronts. This would be a first for me, too, but I agreed; New York seemed to attract all of the crazies…

Well, New York and California.

"It almost looks like vamps," grunted Mathew as he looked at the pictures before handing them back to me.

"A little too much," I grunted. There were two perfect puncture holes in the neck of the victim, but that was the only place. "I have never known a vamp to only drink from one part of the body if they were going to gorge."

"True," nodded Matt. "And the lack of organs seems to be more of a wolf thing than a sucker thing."

Once again, I nodded. "But there was no fun found on the body or around it," I frowned, looking at the crime scene report.

"I honestly don't know if they even looked for animal fur," admitted Mike as he sipped his drink. "The body was found in Central Park, so maybe they assumed that animal fur was a given."

"I guess cats have been known to eat dead bodies too," I murmured… but something still wasn't…

"No claws or teeth," I said suddenly, looking at one of the close up shots of the torso from the medical examiner's office.

Mathew raised an eyebrow before he turned to where Dom was quietly sitting in the room. I don't even remember seeing him come in. The guy was a fucking ninja.

"Skinwalker?" asked Matt, looking at our resident Skinwalker. Dom straightened from where he was leaning against a bookshelf. He blended perfectly into the shadows with his dress uniform. Walking toward us, he took a picture from Matt and studied it.

"And he is?" asked Mike with a half smirk on his face. However, I could tell by the tightening around his eyes that he was not happy having 'strangers' in my office with an active crime scene.

"Mike, this is one of my mates, Dementyev Maximovich Marka, Dom for short. He was originally in House Skinwalker and will be able to provide valuable insight into whether or not they have anything to do with the murders. Dom, this is my Beta Mike, also known as my old boss from the NYPD."

"Pleasure, Sir," nodded Dom, not bothering to tell him that he worked for the military. His unform told that without him needed to emphasize it.

Mike nodded his head before he turned his attention to the picture. "So, is it a Skinwalker?"

"It could be," admitted Dom, and he walked around my desk until he was standing beside me. "We don't tend to leave a lot of evidence behind. But the perp even took the stomach… and I can't think of a reason why."

Matt wrinkled his nose. "It tastes terrible. Fine if you have nothing else to eat, but definitely not one of those go to organs."

Dom absent mindedly nodded in agreement.

"So, just to be clear, it could be a human, wolf, vampire, or a Skinwalker?" asked Mike with a soft chuckle. But after working with him for so long, I knew that that laugh was never a result of him thinking something was funny.

"Could also be a demon," I cringed, not meeting Mike's eyes. I know he came to me to narrow down the list of potential suspects, but I had to be honest.

"Demons… right."

"Could be a witch too," muttered Mathew, not looking up from the paper in his hands. "I mean, removing organs and blood could be part of some summoning ceremony or curse."

"Perfect," smiled Mike as his hand gripped his glass tighter. "So we went from it being a human to it could possibly be anyone in the city of New York."

"Technically, if it is a witch, they don't even have to be in the city. They could have sent someone to get her the stuff. What do we know about the victims?" asked Dom as he perched on the side of my desk.

"The normal stuff, but there is absolutely nothing tying them together. They don't live in the same area, they don't go to the same bars or restaurants, and they aren't even the same age. There is literally nothing linking them together other than the fact that they all live and work in New York City," sighed Mike, and I could see where his frustration was coming from.

Normally killers, especially serial killers, stayed within a particular area to find their target, make the kill, and dispose of the body. Still, this one was just shitting all over the profile.

The only way that might be the case is if the killer didn't have a territory.

"Have you contacted anyone out of state to see if they have come across the same thing?" I asked. Maybe the killer was on the move. If that were the case, then maybe there would be a trail to follow.

"I'll have to do that," grumbled Mike, and I had to bite my lip to stop from smiling.

He didn't want to have to deal with the typical jurisdiction bullshit that came from a killer crossing lines.

"I have a contact in the FBI that I could ask," suggested Greyson as he pulled out his phone.

"Let's not involve the Feds if we don't have to," shot down Mike, gritting his teeth. The only thing worse than two police forces fighting over jurisdiction was getting the FBI involved. They took all the credit, and everyone else who laid out the footwork at the beginning of the case just disappeared in the shadows.

No, I am pretty sure that Mike would offer himself up as bait for the serial killer rather than get the Feds involved…

Wait…

"Want me to play bait?"