The People v. Eleanor Warwick
Known Associates

Paul Henderson is a good agent. A damn good agent.

Every leg of his career was met with exemplary reviews and well-deserved commendations. From Iraq, to Afghanistan, to battlefields in which the U.S. was not officially present, he performed his duties with tenacity and efficiency. Every commanding officer he ever served under was ceaselessly impressed with his work.

All except one.

The last thing Henderson expected when the government granted him the highest level of security clearance it offered was to find out there was another side to the world he knows. A Shadow Side. A side that houses every manner of supernatural freak.

Just a few years earlier, he considered vampires to be a bizarre curiosity. Since then, he’s personally killed 12 of them.

He doesn’t regret accepting his current post. Especially after seeing some of the things he’s seen on this assignment. Yet, every so often, Henderson thinks back fondly on his previous stops. Particularly after moments like the one he knows he’s about to have.

Adjusting his tie, he opens the door to the small office they commandeered in the CPD’s 8th Precinct station house. He isn’t at all surprised to find her going through the file she compiled on their quarry for the dozenth time.

Just the sight of her always puts him on edge. Not that she’s unpleasant to look at. Quite the contrary. She’s in excellent shape with attractive features. Her ebony hair is well-groomed, and her coffee-colored skin is flawless. As looks go, there’s not a single thing wrong with her. Henderson’s problem occurs when he tries to talk to the woman.

Demanding superiors are familiar to him. He’s certainly seen his fair share. There was one Major he served under in the Corps that was a total hard-ass. The difference between him and her is that there were certain conditions that one could meet to make the Major happy. To get yourself a slap on the back and a ‘Helluva job, Marine’. Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ (ꜰind)ɴʘvel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

If such conditions exist with her, Henderson has yet to find them. In all his career, she’s the one person who he repeatedly failed to impress. If he was a screw-up, he’d accept responsibility, but he attacked the job with all the same dedication and has achieved the same level of success. Still, she remains unsatisfied.

In many ways, Henderson respects her. She’s smart, she’s persistent, she knows how to work the system, and she’s willing to do what has to be done, regardless of how unpleasant it is. However, those things are overpowered by her steadfast refusal to acknowledge the hard work or skill of her subordinates.

“Ma’am.” At the sound of his voice, her frigid brown gaze lifts from the file. “She’s on the move.”

“Bring her in,” she answers without hesitation. “Blackwell too, if she’s there. If not, forget her. Warwick’s the priority.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Henderson slips back out the door as quickly as possible.

She looks down at her carefully constructed file. Gathered there are Warwick’s suspected activities, established hangouts, and known associates. None of it will stand up in any court. Luckily, she doesn’t need courts.

Closing the folder, she tucks it under her arm and heads to pick the right interrogation room to have her first one-on-one with Eleanor Warwick.

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