Bates' eyes widen. "A supernatural? Wait. Hold up. You two aren't those treaty makers, are you? 'Cause you know what I think about humans making deals with monsters."
"No," Ed says quickly. "Of course not."
"It was a wi—magic-user," you say, remembering the ward on the doorstep.
"Oh." Bates settles back down. "That's okay then."
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"Have you heard of anything like that?" Ed pushes. "Lone werewolves in the city?"
Bates strokes his chin. "No. Are you sure it was a werewolf? You know some vampires can change shape. And this city has a problem with vampires. Those bastards are everywhere."
"They are?"
"You bet. I'm working on this one case right now, this old vampire, goes by Lawrence Blackwell. Real shady motherfucker. Hosts these big vampire parties and brainwashes all the younger weaker vampires. You want in on that? I could use the help. Can't pay though."
"That's... well... that's not really why we're here," Ed mutters.
"You sure? I'm not sure how deep this goes but—"
"We're really only interested in learning about werewolves," you insist.
"Well... in that case... do you want to buy some silver? I have some crossbow bolts I was thinking of getting rid of."
Ed shakes his head. "Nope. Really. We've... eh... got all the silver we need."
Bates sighs. "Right. Okay. For fifty bucks I'll run a cross-check of police and hunter reports for anything werewolf related. Don't reckon it'll turn up much though, if I'm honest. You're looking in the wrong place. Werewolves are a rural problem. Not here. And they don't travel alone. At least, not for very long. They've got this weird thing which means they can't really survive by themselves. No one knows why, but werewolves just go mad and die when they're alone. It's freaky as hell."
"Yeah," you agree. "It is."
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