Eli’s eyes narrowed in the short silence that fell as William collected his response. The tapping of the agent’s finger quickened impatiently, a short, nearly imperceptible pause every third tap. When the other man finally responded, Eli’s perpetual scowl deepened at William’s repeated name request.
	Taya glanced to William and cleared her throat, trying to indicate for him to answer the more pressing matter. Though she’d learned to deal with her partner’s personality quirks—and couldn’t help but enjoy, to at least some extent, how much William’s presence seemed to agitate Eli—she’d rather spare William from dealing with more of Archer’s attitude than necessary. 
	Eli snorted at William's vague answer to his question.
	Taya opened her mouth to kindly voice the unspoken request for elaboration from William, when the supposed werewolf raised a hand, cutting her off.
        Eli’s icy blue gaze flicked toward the door, following William’s nearly immediately. His tapping paused. His head bent forward slightly in suspicion. Taya swore she saw his gloved hand twitch for the gun hidden beneath his jacket at his belt.
	“Is everything—?” Before Taya could finish her question, the door opened, drawing her attention. Her brows raised as Lucy entered with their drinks balanced on a small tray. She looked to William, intrigued curiosity glittering in her eyes.
	Taya gave a distracted smile in thanks to Lucy as the waitress placed her drink in front of her. The agent glanced subtly toward the door, trying to figure out if William’s prediction was a trick of observation or a show of the supposed super hearing rumored to be possessed by werewolves. 
	“Privacy,” Eli snapped in answer to the waitress. “If we need something before their orders arrive, [i]we’ll[/i] find [i]you.[/i]” He waved dismissively at Lucy, shooing her toward the door.
	Taya glared at him, but he ignored it as blatantly as he did the waitress’ indignant expression.
	“Sorry, Luce,” she offered, giving the other girl an apologetic smile. “Don’t mind him. I’m still working on his people skills.” She knew it was unprofessional, but the indubitable reprimand that awaited her for it would be worth it. Business or not, there was no reason to be rude to servers.
	Lucey gave her an uneasy smile.
	“[i]Excuse[/i] me?” Eli growled, looking to Taya. His glower only confirmed she’d be getting an earful the moment they were alone.
	It was Taya’s turn to ignore him. “This is more than enough,” she tapped the top of her glass, “thanks! Like he said, though, it’d be great if we could get a bit of extra privacy once our food’s done,” she reiterated, as if giving an example of the polite version of Eli’s demand would help it sink in.
	Taya watched Lucy leave. She stared after her for a moment, taking note of the slight shadow just visible beneath the door as the waitress walked away. A hint of disappointment dusted over her. So [i]that[/i] must have been how he’d known Lucy was coming. Of course.
	Her attention shifted back to William as he sighed. His demeanor had completely shifted, as if the weight of the case they’d met to investigate had finally settled on his shoulders. He looked genuinely troubled.
	Taya took the moment to unwrap her straw and put it in her own glass. Eli pulled off his right black leather glove, revealing a jagged scar in a rough X on top of it. Using his freed fingers, he pinched the tab of the teabag steeping in his mug. He bobbed it around in the steaming water, finally putting a small effort in hiding his impatience at the wait for a full answer from William.
	When, at last, William elaborated on his vague response, Eli gave a grunt in confirmation. Taya nodded solemnly. The weight of that number alone made her heart sink. And was yet another reason the bureau had grown more than willing to ‘help bridge the gap between human and the rumored werewolf’ on this case. Any little bit helped. Even if it meant using crazy to find crazy. 
	“Eighteen as of today,” Taya corrected dismally.
	“Anthony Cormack was found similarly mutilated in an alley behind his office building,” Eli picked up for her. “The janitor discovered him around five this morning while taking trash out. The coroner’s estimated his time of death to be around three a.m., but the recent temperatures make it difficult to be certain.”
	Eli slid the folder across the table to William. A folder housing a detailed summery of each homicide and potential related kidnapping. 
	“It’s believed he tried to fight back; forensics found some hair trapped under his fingernails,” Eli continued, sitting back in his chair. “They’re testing it as we speak.” He lifted the dripping teabag from the mug and placed it at the edge of the plate beneath the cup. “A detail about each murder that’s been kept from the public is each victim’s heart was missing. I suspect they were taken as a trophy, or as proof of the kill.”
	Taya suppressed a shudder at how impassively Eli spoke about the man’s death. No remorse. No obvious compassion. It simply [i]was[/i] to him, just another case, another body, another murderer to get off the street. She knew he’d taken on a record amount of cases, but to grow so calloused to it that it became something as casually discussed as the day’s weather was unimaginable to her.
	“Or to further prove a point,” Taya added, disgustedly. “It’s a part of certain werewolf lore. Which is where you come in, William. If they’re trying to mimic a werewolf attack—or if it [i]is[/i] werewolves doing this,” she added awkwardly, gaining a snort from Eli, “then you’re more qualified to make that call.”