|Annotation:||'You don't volunteer for slugfests with vampires.|
It shortens your life expectancy.'
And you don't fall in love with a werewolf. It interferes with your work. Especially when you're a preternatural expert like me. My business brings me up close and personal with all shapes and sizes of monsters. And not all of them want to kill me.
Take, for instance, the local pack of lycanthropes – that's werewolves to you. A number of them are missing, and they've come to me for help. I've survived a lot – from jealous vampires to killer zombies – but this love thing may kill me yet...
It was barely dark, and I was tired. Tired enough to go home and crawl into bed and hide. Instead, I was on my way to the Lunatic Cafe. I was going to try and convince Marcus to let me talk to the police. Eight missing, one dead human. It didn't have to be connected. But if it was a werewolf, Then Marcus would know who did the killing, or not, but I had to ask. They'd come closer to telling me the truth than they would the police. Funny how all the monsters talked to me and not the police. You had to begin to wonder why the monsters were so damn comfortable around me.
I raised zombies and slew vampires. Who was I to throw stones?