It was late—early hours in the morning late. 2:47 a.m. The moon hung high, stars scattered faintly around it. The air was sharp, chilled enough to sting the lungs. A perfect night—or morning, whatever—for a murder investigation. They’d been at it for hours already.

Emrys stood a little apart from the others, cigarette balanced lazily between his fingers, the other hand tucked into the pocket of his trench coat. His face was unreadable, but there was no doubt he was turning the case over in his head. Brown hair shifted in the cold wind as tired light-brown eyes stared off at nothing in particular.

The background hum of officers talking, radios crackling, and an ambulance idling blurred together—until it all shattered with a far too familiar voice.

"HEYA, DINOSAUR!"

The nickname made the muscle near Emrys’s eye twitch. He didn’t even need to turn to know who it was.

"Why you smoking, huh? Shouldn’t you be on the case?" Evern rambled on, words tumbling over each other with relentless energy.

Emrys fought the urge to groan, dragging on his cigarette instead. Two months and three weeks since Evern had been dumped under his wing. Two months and three weeks of zero peace. At. All.