Time to deal with the devil

"I don't remember," Lochlann said. "I was kind of in shock over the fact that, oh, I don't know, someone just emptied six bullets into my girlfriend's chest. Fuck dude."

Lochlann rubbed his eyes with the flat of his palm. He took a deep breath. He pushed the memory of Dani away for a moment. He needed to focus. He needed to think. He needed to get some kind of information from this detective.

Lochlann chewed on the inside of his cheek. He put his hands back on the table and picked at the skin around his nails. He took a deep breath and tried to look Angelo in the eye, but Lochlann couldn't.

"So you don't know if there's any hired killers with a history of killing women," Lochlann repeated. "We probably should abolish the police. What's the point of doing all of this if you're not even going to keep a record of it?"

Lochlann scolded himself internally.

That's not at all what he wanted to say. The words just slipped out through. Truth be told, Lochlann was lucky they kept limited records. It was the only reason he was given another chance. He should be grateful. He should keep his stupid mouth shut.

He sighed.

"Why did you become a cop?" he asked Angelo.

Shit.

Lochlann definitely would have liked Angelo if he wasn't a cop and if he wasn't interogating him. The dude kept giving him answers, which is not something Lochlann was used to. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, flinching a little when he tasted his own blood.

The sad truth about Lochlann's life was that he was only doing what he was bred to do. He thought he was a monster, but a few hundred years ago, Lochlann's duress at seducing and eating women would have made him a fine water horse. It wasn't impossible for other water horses to subside on livestock, so why did he have such a problem? These were not questions he asked himself. He knew firmly in his mind that he was a monster and that this was all just pretend. He never stopped to consider that he wasn't a monster and he wasn't human, either.

Lochlann was considering what Angelo said about his file.

"Did you read it?" he asked him. He picked at the skin around his nails and now they were bleeding, too. He snatched his hand away from the table and eyed Angelo suspiciously for a moment, wondering if maybe any blood drops left here would be used in some weird spell or policecraft. "My file, I mean."

Angelo's answer bought Lochlann another moment of thought.

"Do you feel that you're doing that?" he asked him. "Making a positive contribution?"

There was genuine interest in his voice for a split second before Lochlann choked it down. he needed a drink. Instead, he asked, "Is it okay if I smoke in here?"

So he'd read the file. Lochlann mulled this over and then scowled at the idea of not smoking in here. He sucked the blood from his finger tips. The saltiness of it surprised him and his eyes dilated for a moment, then contracted.

"I didn't know this island even had hedgehogs," Lochlann said, dubiously. Of all the things to lie about, why this? Was he lying? Fuck.

He needed a drink, but he couldn't have one here, and he couldn't even smoke. He was half tempted to smoke anyway, but Lochlann was already on thin ice and didn't want to risk getting sent back to juvie over a god damn cigarette.

Lochlann leaned back in his chair and eyed Angelo again. He pulled at his sleeves. He said, "Do you know what it's like to watch someone die and know that it's my--your--fault?"

Lochlann watched Angelo's eyes carefully.

Lochlann would have persued the hedgehog line of questioning further. He liked animals, after all. He was a farmer by trade but there was something about the care of another creature when it was not an obligation that struck a chord with him, although Lochlann would never admit it.

But Lochlann would never ask Angelo about the hedgehog because he was floored. He managed to stay in his seat and not fall over, but Lochlann's face went slack. He'd been hoping to find some kind of reaction in Angelo to better judge what he sounded like lying or telling the truth, but this threw Lochlann off.

"I didn't shoot Dani," Lochlann said, and he wasn't sure why, because he was looking at Angelo and picturing him shooting someone. He wondered what kind of person Angelo loved. He wondered what kind of person Angelo killed.

He wondered about what was going to happen to the hedgehog.

"I couldn't have prevented it," Lochlann said. "I wouldn't have been able to get around her in time anyway."

Her.

Lochlann didn't realize he'd slipped up. In all his stories, he'd said that Dani answered the door and someone shot her. But it didn't add up. It would have made more sense if someone was in between them. He'd said the shooter was a woman, though, so the pronouns would fit, but it would mean that Lochlann was hiding information on the shooter.

He was distracted and still fidgeting. His finger had stopped bleeding. Lochlann was looking at Angelo yet. He wasn't sure why this surprised him so much. He really wasn't used to cops being so frank with him.

"How did they die?" Lochlann asked. "When you did it yourself?"