Sliding Faces Inc: the Shapeshifting Detective

Chapter 2

I checked my phone for the fifth time and nodded. Rookie Cop Rosalina Romero left her shabby one story starter home at precisely 7:41am every morning to make it to her 8am shift at the precinct.

Getting up this early should be a crime. Breaking into a police officer’s house, leaving them unconscious, and then impersonating them for several hours was definitely a crime, so maybe I shouldn't complain about the time of day when I was facing federal prison.

But unless I became twenty five overnight, I couldn’t get licensed and I had no access to databases that would allow me to run license plates numbers. So, giving Rookie Cop Romero the day off and using her access at Quincy PD was the most likely option.

I took a deep breath, solidified my evershifting face, and screamed. “Justin! Where are you, Justin!”

I stopped in front of Romero’s house and cupped my hands over my mouth. “Justin! Please, anyone he’s a seven year old boy with dark brown hair, a green vest and jeans. Oh God.”

Romero, known for her own missing brother, opened the door with a frown. “Ma’am, are you okay?”

I rushed to her. “No, no, my son- he’s- oh God. I lost him.” Tears poured down my cheeks and I looked back toward the street. “Justin!”

“Ma’am, I’m a police officer-.”

“Can I use your phone? He must be trying to call me but I left it on the bus when I realized he’d gotten off without me. What am I going to do?”

“Yes, yeah, come in.” Romero swept one arm toward her house and set another on my back to guide me. “Take deep breaths. We’ll find him.”

Once I was in the threshold, Romero went to the kitchen to get me a glass of water. When her back was turned, I locked the front door and ran my hand through my straight locks. A duffle bag sat on the cluttered dining room table.

Was that where her gun was or did she still have it locked up?

“Tell me what happened to Justin. You two were separated on the bus?”

I wiped the tears from my face and moved into the kitchen, blocking the cop from her bag and an exit. Romero’s thick brows narrowed, but she handed me the glass. I set it down on the counter beside me and pressed further in.

As I moved, my previous red and puffy eyes cleared up and narrowed. My brows arched and my canine’s elongated. Romero’s eyes flicked to her bag, then back to me.

“I should apologize for the ruse,” I said, layering honey in my voice.

“Ma’am, step back.”

“I just really needed to see you for myself.” I ran a tongue over my new fang and smiled. “Rookie Cop of the Year, Rosalina Romero.”

Romero side-stepped, but I mirrored her.

“ You took down the biggest cyber terrorism plot with one punch and a few clicks of the keyboard.”

“Move. Back,” Romero stressed. “I want you out of my house.”

“Sexy cop voice ya got there.” I lifted my hands up, palms facing her. I took a few steps back, but not nearly enough to give her an escape. “I just came to offer you a proposition.”

She looked again to her duffle bag. “I’m not giving you blood.”

“Giving me blood?” I laughed. “No, I’m here to give you something. An escape. All that media coverage. All those people taking pictures while you're on the job, compromising your work.”

Romera clenched her jaw.

“Sure you got the raise and the key to the city, but what does it matter if your new celebrity status keeps you at the desk.” I clicked the “k.” “I want to give you a break. Let me help you relax and forget the pressure. Whenever you want.”

Romero relaxed a fraction.

“I’ll be at your mercy.”

Please, don’t run. Don’t run.

I have never shifted into a Vampire. If I had, I might still have a taste of their speed, agility, and strength. Instead, I have years of Hollywood martial arts movies, seventy five kilograms of muscle crammed into a five seven body, and average reflexes.

So when Romero charged forward, hand ready to punch me, I ducked down and buried my shoulder in her chest and slammed her against the back wall. She rammed an elbow onto my back, but I slammed her again, then grabbed her face.

“We could have done this the easy way,” I growled, grabbing hold of her neck and fielding off her attacks. “Just breathe, Rosalina. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Her brown eyes widened with fear. Her lips, thinner than expected, were moving in curses and angry grunts. I concentrated, taking in her short stubby nose, and the moles dotting her face. There was a small cut above her right eye. A few gray hairs dotted her hairline. Her breath smelled like eggs.

Romero’s brows drooped and she went limp. I shuddered, my heart pounding and my mind racing. My frame cracked and trembled, giving me broader shoulders. My straight brown hair fell into a crude bob. The muscles I’d toned in the academy replaced the useless bulk I’d walked in with.

She was going to kill me. This vampire was going to drain me dry. Always keep your gun on you. Always. And where was mine? In my duffle bag, in the holster, ten feet too far.

I backed away from the body slumped against the wall and snatched the duffle. My hands were shaky as I fumbled for the zipper, but within seconds I had the gun in my hands trained on...me?

No. No that wasn’t right. That couldn’t be right. That couldn’t be me.

“Breathe. Just breathe,” I whispered, staring at the dark haired woman in her police uniform. “s**t. I’m dead.”

I set the gun down and tried to take deep breaths.

I’m dead. I’m dead. I’m dead. I’m dead. I’m...wearing jeans?

I frowned at the blue jeans over my legs, the plain white tee on my chest, and the leather jacket on my arms.

Was my ghost trying out for a Grease Play?

Can Karen see ghosts? Not all witches see ghosts right?

Okay, let’s just take a quick break from losing my mind and think. Why am I wearing different clothes?

What time is it?

I looked down at my wrist and frowned when I didn’t find my wrist watch. I looked at the microwave. 7:46. I am going to be late. Well, I’m dead so- Okay, think. I was getting ready for work so I would be wearing-

Wait, is she breathing?

Slowly, I moved closer to the woman crumpled under my Adorable Kittens 2026 calendar. Her chest rose and fell.

Oh, so I’m alive.

How?

I narrowed my eyes.

Because I wasn’t me. Well, moreover I wasn’t really Rosalina Romero. I was…

I looked down at my hands, then let them go to the inside pocket. The note inside was folded neatly. The handwriting inside was mine.

Me. A shifter. Kay. Kay Costello.

Finding my individuality in the mass of who I shifted into was like taking the first breath of fresh air after nearly drowning. Terrifying when you realized what you could have lost.

I looked to Romero’s gun and rolled my eyes. That definitely could have gone better. I didn’t even get to kiss her. That was the whole point of doing the vampire rouse. The amnesia inducing saliva would have helped explain her time loss when she woke up.

Damnit.

With a groan, I stooped to grab hold under Romero’s arms and dragged her to the bedroom. If experience served correct, I’d have a few hours before she came to.

I pulled and heaved Romero into the bed. I stripped her of her shirt and trousers then tossed them on the floor. I grabbed at her shoes, but found my fingers working to untie the laces rather than pull them off.

As far as I knew, no other Shifter did what I could. Their ability to mimic another person was literally only skin deep. Yes, they might get the voice and the eyes, but they didn’t get their implicit memories, or their preferences, or allergies, or mannerisms.

When I shift, I become them and they...go to sleep. Usually that part is temporary.

I adjusted Rosalina straight in bed, then tucked her in. After checking her breathing once more, I took off my clothes to put on hers. Mine went into the trashbag I’d pulled from under the sink. I set a second note from my pocket on the nightstand.

It would let Rosalina know that I didn’t bite her and that if she wanted to take me up on my vampiric offer, she had my number. It wasn’t exactly a clean way of ending things, but it would give her some kind of closure. Or a fake lead to find this fake vampire.

Grabbing the trashbag, and then the duffle from the kitchen, I went for the car. I snatched the keys from the hook, locked the house, tossed my stuff in, then drove to the police station.

If I was being honest with myself, I would know how shitty my plan was. If impersonating a police officer wasn’t stupid enough, there was too much I had to rely on Romero’s muscle memory. Like passwords. I could have tried harder, taken more, but I did not want to put Rosalina into a coma, or worse kill her. I did not need another death on my conscience. Especially not a cop.

I frowned as I pulled into the parking space labeled Rookie of the Year. Was that Rosalina’s thought or mine?

Ignoring it, I slid out of the car and grabbed the duffle from the backseat. Adrenaline leaked into my blood and I took several deep breaths as I walked into the station. I let Rosalina’s essence take control.

I smiled and waved at some people and gave solemn nods to others. I joined in coffee critiquing banter on my way to the locker rooms. No one in particular looked at me funny. Just the normal coworker’s response.

Most were hunched over their computers or grumbling over files. The night shift sat staring at the ceiling, or trailing in from their patrols. Several of the detectives were in the Crime Cove looking over boards of missing Weres and Humans.

One of these days that was going to be me.

I ducked into the locker room. Despite being Rookie of the Year, they still had me in the damp, dark corner under a too low pipe with several dents from my head.

What did I have to do to get moved to a better locker? Take down a cyber hacker planning to hold America’s economy hostage? Did that already.

I rolled my eyes and let my hand work the combination. I changed into my uniform, holstered my gun, then went to my desk. Desk duty again. I was on follow up duty for lab reports. According to the reports on my desk, there had been an increase in overdoses as well as an increase in missing persons.

The new drug, Full Moon, was sweeping the Were circles. It made them more aggressive, gave them slightly faster shifting, and increased healing. A lot of the criminals in lock up now had it in their systems, but none of them displayed the same craving behaviors as other drugs.

“Stop,” I whispered to myself. “You’re here for one thing and one thing only.”

The cops can solve their own mysteries.

The computer booted up and I rubbed my face. Another password. I set my fingers on the keyboard, then held the mouse, but nothing happened.

Shit.

“Forget again Lina?”

I shifted in my chair to see a dark skinned woman leaning against my desk. Her name came quickly. “Lisa to the rescue again.”

Lisa smiled and my stomach fluttered. Oh, Rosalina has a crush. The hair on my arms stood. Lina loves a Were. Great. Just great. Lisa nudged my hand and lifted up the plain black mouse pad to reveal the username and password taped underneath.

“I’m surprised you forgot,” she teased.

“Maybe I did,” I said, logging in. “Or maybe I wanted you to come over.”

Lisa rose a brow.

I suppressed a groan. Vague icons were pinned to the taskbar and a few on the desktop, but the program names were foreign. I gave Lisa the doppiest look I could. “How do you run plates again?”

“Got leads on a missing person?” Lisa whispered, ducking her head close to me.

“A tip I can’t get out of my head.” I nodded toward the screen, then grinned when Lisa pulled up “Tyugna” for me. “Why can’t it be called License plate runner or something?”

“It was called the National License Plate Database, but you changed it on a key mash of frustration.”

“I was hoping you forgot.” I typed the plate Mrs. Gimly gave me, but stopped short of hitting run. “Can you come over tonight?”

Lisa frowned.

“Something happened this morning and...I need someone to decompress with.”

She put a hand on my shoulder. “Alright. See you around nine? After your shift?”

I put my hand over hers, squeezed, then went back to my screen. Good, now someone would check on her. If Romero was still unconscious, then Lisa could take her to the hospital. Win-Win, so long as I didn’t f**k up and they realized I was a Shifter instead of a hungry Vamp.

Lisa left and I ran the plates.

Red 2019 Ford F-450 registered to a David Mead. He lived in one of the rundown Normie neighborhoods at the edge of the city. When I clicked his name, it linked me to his police record. One arrest for animal abuse and another for attending an illegal fight ring in Indiana a decade ago. He’s been clean for a few years.

I pulled off a sticky note, then wrote his name and address. I did not want someone figuring out what I had been up to by looking at my indentions. For several minutes, I sifted through the notes on Rosalina’s desk.

Fifty something humans between the age of 12 and 18 were missing which was about twenty up from any given month in the city. Romero was concentrating on children that had been last seen at schools or by their friends. She was completely dismissing a large portion of kids as runaways.

There were thirty missing Weres. The focus was on the 20 to 30 crowd, majority of them were males. Most of them had been missing weeks, but no body was found, and it didn’t appear as if they’d moved or run off. Pets were left behind, no notes to family or friends. Just gone.

Weird.

I logged off, then went to the parking lot. Hopefully people thought I was following a lead, even if it was in a civilian car. Despite what my beating heart suspected, no one stopped me. Too busy doing their jobs I guessed.

I drove back to Rosalina’s, stripped out of her unifo

rm, searched the pockets, then threw it in the washer. She could dry it later. I changed into my clothes, set Romero’s holstered gun in the nightstand drawer, then checked her breathing and heart rate.

Both still good. I gave her a shove, and found no movement. For good measure, I dropped her hand on her face and checked the reactivity of her pupils. To be fair I had no idea what I was doing, but the face smacking bit gave me a good laugh.

I set the house and car keys on the hook by the door, then fought Rosalina’s thought screaming that I needed to lock the front door. I got it, I really did, but if I didn’t keep it unlocked, Lisa wouldn’t know to come in if Romero needed help.

“i***t,” I mumbled to myself.

I put my hands in my pockets and headed home. As soon as I got some sleep, Rookie Cop Rosalina Romero would be washed away and I’d just be me again.