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time?"
    I made a left turn onto the access ramp to get on the highway. The Tiburon purred beneath me like a happy little kitten and I smiled. "I'll call you at nightfall."
    "Talk to you then."
    "'Til then," I responded and hung up.
    The chances weren't that high that we'd find the werewolf, but it was best to be prepared. It wasn't being a preternatural investigator that gave me the right to execute a werewolf. Nor was it the fact that we didn't have the same rights as citizens. According to Oklahoma state law, a person found guilty for killing a werewolf had only one threat held over their head-if the family of said werewolf decided to press charges. That threat was animal cruelty. This meant that a murderer could walk away with either a fine, or imprisonment not exceeding five years in a state penitentiary. Now, here's the catch. If I were to kill the werewolf in human form, it's cold-blooded murder. That is until, I presume, scientists learn to recognize the lycanthropy virus.
    Unfortunately, they're working on it. Which would probably explain why one side is pushing to be recognized as human beings, and the other side is pushing adamantly against it.
    No, what gave me the right to take this bastard down was the paranormal huntress badge in my wallet alongside the one that stated I was a preternatural investigator. My old boss tried to convince people to take the course and get the badge. Oddly enough, a good majority of them refused. There were maybe two officers in our department that had taken the course with me.
    The class was easy. In fact, it had been too easy. We listened to an already licensed Paranormal Hunter lecture us on the how-tos of "humanely" executing shape shifters and other super beasties.
    My boss had wanted to cover his ass, but it was only another reason for me to cover mine after the incident.
    The words on the actual license stated that I had the right to execute any paranormal that had committed a murderous crime when granted the authority or the proof. The downside was that it covered a broad spectrum of paranormals and unfortunately the class hadn't. You'd think that would make my life easier, but there are some things even I don't want to sniff out and hunt down.

Chapter Five
    It wasn't until around six that I arrived back at the office. I wanted to get the Pro .40 out of my desk drawer tonight instead of tomorrow. If I did it tonight, my entire afternoon tomorrow would be free, since Rit was working. Her name is actually Avani Ritika. I fell into the habit of calling her Rit for short, and not long after that June started calling her by it as well. Oh, she was a bit irked with me for a few weeks, telling me that I made her sound like clothing dye or a lice-killing shampoo. I think it eventually grew on her, because she finally stopped complaining. Rit and I alternated days. She worked one day and I worked the next. It helped us both to keep a healthy balance between fieldwork and office work. Every P.I. works differently. It's what worked for us.
    There were days when I got called out of the office while the only person here was June. If that was the case, she told any potential clients to make an appointment. She tried not to schedule any appointments that would interfere with our days off, but as with any job, it happened.
    I crossed the street and stepped onto the sidewalk, reaching for the door. My fingertips had just brushed the handle when the smell hit me. The breeze smelled of forest, of damp leaves and moist soil. It was an earthy scent, not the salty scent of a human. I let my hand fall away from the door. I didn't reach for my gun. My nostrils flared as I took that scent inside of me. It flooded my senses better than any alcoholic burst of air freshener. Being a werewolf, I'd recognize another werewolf from a mile away. This wolf was much closer than that. I turned my face toward the direction of the smell.
    She stood about ten feet away wearing a yellow sweater and jeans. Her skin