The taxi driver hadn't wanted to make a fight of it; that was good. But then one guy against two slavering werewolves weren't terrific odds, Jack guessed. He'd fled his cab, screaming to the wide-open empty street about giant monsters. But the houses around here were set so far back from the road that Jack doubted anyone would hear him for blocks.
Jack and Chung had taken his idling cab and here they were, two naked men sitting in Christmas Eve traffic. Jack was driving. Chung was just sitting in sullen silence, cradling his ruined leather jacket in his lap and shaking his head in shock.
'We should never have left Ava,' Jack muttered for about the thirtieth time.
This time, Chung decided to reply. 'Her mom wants her alive, right? And so does that pink-eyed bastard, Maski,' he said. 'Whereas you – they've got what they want from you. If you'd stayed, you'd have been killed. Wound up on the party platter, belly-up – the cherry on the cake.'
