"Hold up," Roman rolled his shoulders, cracking his neck side to side. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple despite the cold night air. "You know what sucks about police standoffs?" He scratched at his neck, fingernails leaving red welts. "All this waiting."
"I said don't move!" The lead officer's voice cracked.
"Seriously, you guys need to work on your timing," Roman's fingers twitched, nails darkening and extending into points. He dug them into his own neck, tearing strips of flesh. But instead of blood, silver fur pushed through the wounds. "I wish I could stay, but I have places to go."
Colette's grip tightened on her weapon. "What the fuck?"
Roman's laugh came out wrong - too deep, too wet. His teeth gleamed as he smiled, canines visibly lengthening. "Why don't we start the party, eh?"
"Last warning!" The officer's hands shook on his rifle. "Get on the ground or—"
