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Binx clamped her hands over her ears and scowled at the blonde vampire. “You don’t need toshout,” she hissed. “And you didn’t press the right button.”
“No way, I got it labeled.” Tetiana peered down at her radio. Someone—probably one of the techs—had put tape over the majority of the radio’s buttons so Tetiana couldn’t press them.
“Team Blood?” Sarge repeated. “Can you hear me?”
I unhooked my radio and pressed the correct button. “Yes, Sarge.”
“We just received a report from the human police. They got a call that there’s a transformed werewolf running around downtown on your route.”
I peered back in the direction of the streets we already covered. “Can you give us an approximate area?”
“The caller phoned the police while standing by the Flying Curry.”
I lowered the radio. “That’s a couple blocks up from here,” I said. “Going west.”
Binx nodded as she also unhooked her radio. “Understood, Sarge. We’ll look into it.”
“Ah-hah!” Tetiana triumphantly pressed a different button. “WE’LL BE IN TOUCH!” she shouted.
“Would you cut that out?” Binx hissed as she put her radio back on her belt. “The werewolf probably heard you from all the way downtown!”
I double checked that my weapons were secured as Tetiana put her radio away.
“Yes, yes, shifter hearing is so superior, I’m sure,” Tetiana said as she turned to face me again.
I had finished checking the daggers strapped to my thigh when I realized Binx was also watching me, the duo wearing an expectant look.
…what? Was I too slow?
“Ready,” I said.
“Ready!” Tetiana chorused in a sing-song voice.
“Ready,” Binx repeated before she started out.
We jogged the few blocks to the Flying Curry—an amazing Indian restaurant that I’d become extremely fond of as it had great food and an adorable striped cat that sat with me whenever I ate there.
It was closed for the night, but the Irish pub across the street had its lights on and thrummed with Celtic music—which was probably where the call had come from, and possibly what had attracted the werewolf to the area.
“What are the chances that the werewolf has gone feral?” Tetiana whispered as we slunk into the alleyway wedged next to the Flying Curry. The alleyway was open and kept clean as the Flying Curry had some tables and chairs—all stacked neatly—out there for its guests.
“Not very,” Binx said.
“Really?” Tetiana had been peering around the corner of the building and straightened up with Binx’s reply. “Why else would a werewolf be wandering the streets at night in their wolf form?”
Binx shrugged. “Werewolves are single-minded. And slobby. Werecats know better.”
“Ooh, that doesn’t sound like jealousy at all,” Tetiana said with admiration.
“Do you hear anything, Binx?” I asked.
Binx tilted her chin up, then shook her head. “The music is too loud to pinpoint much. Something is going through the trash somewhere nearby. It might be a rat for all I can tell.”
I narrowed my eyes as I considered our options.
Werewolves had superior senses, and crazy amounts of strength that none of us could match. Sneaking up on it was our best bet—if Binx couldn’t tell where it was, there was a good chance it couldn’t hear/sense us, either. How would we find it?
Something crashed—a sound so loud it echoed, bouncing off the buildings.
