Dog Days...have just begun {Open!}

[Patience Marcone]

The city smelled like smog, fear and urine, a certain figure thought as she leaned back against a wall of moldy brick. It seemed to ooze out of every pore; every crack and gash in the sidewalk beneath her feet…kind of like the stench coming from the homeless man that shuffled passed her. It was the same in every city, she supposed, Hollywood included. Where most thought of it as being some kind of dreamland, where all one’s hopes and aspirations could be fulfilled…she knew better.

Like every city, it was dark, dirty and filled to the brim with monsters. It was the latter that attracted her, that day.

Feigning nonchalance, Patience Marcone watched the snake-like line that formed outside of the nightclub across the street. Screamers, the sign above the door read. Quite fitting, given the hard clash of music and the yowling of drunken women that sang out, every time the door opened. It was a wonder why anyone in their right mind would want to attend such an establishment. Didn’t they know that they were minnows swimming in a sea of sharks?

Obviously not, she thought with a sigh, watching as a particularly scantily dressed woman tried to entice a doorman with her cleavage. Ah, the intelligence of her gender; it was a wonder how men hadn’t become the dominant sex over the years.

Wrinkling her nose, she felt herself starting to tense. Soon, she would have to venture into that foul smelling place. There would be many bodies; many strange bodies pressing close up against her own. Unfamiliar faces, unknown intentions…most importantly, unknown species. Through those doors, the culmination of most of her research dwelled.

And she was terrified.

It took her a good ten minutes of staring to get herself to push off the wall behind her. Ten minutes of the deep breathing exercises she’d found online and fondling the little locket at her neck. None too soon, she was flinging herself across the street and pasting on her most flirtacious smile, becoming as enticing to the doorman as the drunken women she’d mentally berated had previously.

It was good to be female and well endowed, she thought a moment later. Entering the club, she felt her senses heighten and her breathing quicken. There were people everywhere; miling about like pigs to slaughter…touching her. Bile rose up in her throat, but she managed to swallow it back. Finding a corner near the bar, she shoved herself against the counter and the wall…and waited. And watched.

It was all about the hunt, now.

[Brom Fenrisulfr]

"And I think I know what my father meant when he sang about a lost highway and old Brittany Spears I'm glad to see she's finally getting straight, and Ty's staying home and loving Chloe more these days, and nobody wants to get drunk and get loud and all my rowdy friends have settled down." came the semi drunken lyrics from none other than one Brom Fenrisulfr as he navigated the back entrance to Screamers. A quick glance at his watch showed that it was late but shit happened, right? He'd been out on patrol when he'd gotten the call about a dead shifter and had gone to check it out.

Thankfully, it ended up a stray so he'd taken liberty to have a few sips of scotch in celebration of the relief he'd felt. Felt every time a body turning up wasn't one of theirs. These days, when a call came it, one could never be certain what they would find and Brom had started to dread those occurances.

Damn, he was getting to be a nancy. If he didn't start watching it, he'd be asking Kaera to kiss his boo boos better. Just the thought of it made his lips turn up in a silly grin because his sister wasn't one to kiss anyone's boo boos... Much less her full grown brothers. Well, besides Banning's, that was. Those two were so sweet on each other it was almost sickening. Even if it did make him wish for the same thing they had.

Yeah, he was getting old and pansy assed. That was the only explanation for the ache in his gut and the wishful thinking he'd been doing.

Pushing the thoughts to the back of his mind, the dark shifter ran a hand through his hair and straightened his leather coat. Completely unaware of his own persona, the wolf checked his weapons to make sure they were hidden before putting his phone on vibrate.

Then he made for the main floor.

Huge, built and quiet capable of kicking a mans ass even three sheets to the wind, the middle Fenrisulfr sibling continued to whistle in his own off beat manner as he paused to take in the hopping club. From his vantage point, he could make out Ty's normal scowling demeanor and couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him as his gaze went past him to the woman the huge skinwalker was glaring at. Sure enough, Chloe was wearing her typical sort of outfit that made her look like a little sex kitten and put the sort of fantasies in most mens head that Ty no doubt was having in his own. Which in turn, accounted for the "I will rip your head off and dance on your bones" look that presently shadowed his features.

Man, he didn't envy the poor dude.

The hellion was definitely a woman worth taming but he was glad it was Ty and not him. No, while he liked his women with a bit of fire, he preferred them soft, sweet and cuddly. Just like the blond at the bar his eyes narrowed in on as he plunged into the crowd. Since she was at the bar anyways, he smiled and mooseyed up next to her and ordered a scotch that was promptly sat in front of him.

Unfortunately, just as he turned to chat the cutie up, she turn and bumped his glass so that it flew through the air and dumped down the front of a stunning brunette. The only saving grace was that his quick reflexes managed to divert most of the liquid so only a tad went on her dress.

"Well, hell.." he swore to himself even as the blond stammered an apology and he gave the brunette his attention. "Our apologies, lass.... "

By the Gods, this was not going to end well.

[Patience Marcone]

Well, it had been about the Hunt, until the scents of unwashed bodies, sweat, sex and alcohol practically shoved themselves up her nose. When she’d initially planned on coming down to Screamers, home to some of the more famous shifter families, she’d been convinced that she could get her information and leave. It would be easy; just like those little fishing expeditions back in New York. In those situations, she’d had to sleaze with high power attorneys and low class hoodlums. How hard could flirting with a supposed ‘lady killer’ be, for someone with her experience?

She’d never banked on the complete sensory overload she’d feel…or the claustrophobia. She was practically merged with the bar; so unused to trying to sort out scents that she was too overwhelmed to function. She’d practically made her apartment a safe house, using sound proof wallpaper and oder-free air freshener; anything to help with her new sensitivities. She hadn’t yet gotten to the ‘get used to it’ part, given that most of her time was spent pouring over old police files and other articles she’d found on google. Contacts had given her pretty much everything she needed intellectually, and restaurant delivery provided the rest.

Thank God for one random moron’s entrance into her Crazy Town, or she’d have stayed plastered against the bar, looking like she was about to toss her cookies. The chilled liquor splashed against the bare skin of her chest, sliding down her dress and she yelped in surprise. Grabbing a handful of napkins, she dabbed at the mess, immediately snapping out of her previous mental lock. Looking up, she was about to aim an irritable jab on the moron’s intelligence, when she recognized just the face she’d been planning to spot.

Brom Fenrisulfr; younger brother to Wulf, elder brother to Kaera and all around player. Also, a wolf and privy to more information about the werewolf world than she’d ever find online. Perfect!

Palming the listening device she’d managed to buy off a contact downtown out of her pocket, she gave that wide chest a little shove. Holy shit, talk about some muscled pecs, there…was that a jolt of electricity she felt under her fingers? Damn.

”Watch it, buddy!” She pretended to slur, slipping the tiny device into the crease of his collar. Hopefully, the damn thing wouldn’t fall off if he decided to plunge into the crowd again. ‘Drunkenly,’ she continued to blot at her front. ”I might have been the winner of Alpha Kappa Omega’s wet tshirt contest, but this’ silk!”