Lana let her eyes feast on the the sexy waiter's walk, admiring his firm ass until it disappeared into the crowd of euphoric, dancing partiers.

She gave an impressed nod. "That is one fine ass if I do say so myself."

Then she swigged down her third shot of Jack. Instantly, her tummy was greeted by warmth. It felt as though the whiskey had given her whole body a hug, and she realized that in some cases, a bottle of Jack to somebody is, sadly, a bottle of hugs. Lonely people, cranky people, people whose life is just completely effed up - they all need hugs from time to time.

Raya interrupted Lana's deep thinking with shrill words, fighting to be heard over the incessant thump, thump of the club music. "So, Lana, you feeling it yet?"

"Nah. I'm barely feeling anything, but I should be humming after three shots - usually two shots has me ready to shake my little booty," she said, with a half-hearted jig. She saw Raya's face redden and Lana giggled. "Come on, Raya! You know you wanna give it a whirl on the dance floor," Lana teased, doing her best cabbage patch.

Raya made a noise somewhere between a whimper and a growl. "Lana! Stop embarrassing me!"

Raya reached out, snatching at Lana to pull her crazy ass back down into her seat.

"Damn it! How in Hades am I suppose to get any action tonight if you're over here doing wack-ass dance moves that should've been left in the nineties?" Raya whined.

"Hey, now! People love my wack. Besides, you haven't even spotted a target yet." Lana snapped as she transformed her cabbage patch into the running man. "Oh yeah, you like that don't ya, sis?"

Raya's lips began to turn up as a smile broke through her sour-puss expression.

"Yeah, that's right, Raya. Come on, let it out. This charismatic, silly gal knows what she's doing. I could get laid while doing this dance if I fancied." Lana swung her hips to and fro in pelvic thrust like a confidant male stripper, grunting and hopping in Raya's direction with each pump.

Raya couldn't resist anymore, and busted out in hysterics. Lana joined. The girls giggled until their tummies hurt. It was as though the laughter were water washing away all their stress and worries; drowning all the crazy BS that happened since being bitten by a werewolf.

"Now sit down," Raya insisted once she could breathe again. She patted the wooden bar stool, hoping Lana would plant her bottom there and chill.

A not-dancing Lana cocked her head to the side and raised a brow. "You no likey?" she said, trying some other embarrassing dance move that Raya couldn't even name. Raya knew her best bet would be to ignore Lana's silliness.

"Where's the waiter?" Raya wondered, but gave up when she ccouldn't find him after a few scans of the room. "Eh, just go get us some more drinks. Pretty please?" Raya gave the pouty face that always caved Lana. "You know I love you!" She yelled as Lana trotted off.

"Yeah, yeah." Lana waved her sister's endearment off.

Raya sat alone, growing bored with the hunt, which hadn't turned up anything at all. No-one seemed stunningly interesting enough. And if I'm going to give out a freebie, they darn well better be worth it, she thought.

The scantily clad bartenders showed off, tossing multi-sized bottles up high. Laser lights reflected on them, causing a rainbow effect. Lana wondered if the colors were visible to all, or only enhanced through her werewolf eyes.

"What can I get you, Dollface?" a medium built, twenty-something man asked with a wink. "Flirt" might as well have been tattooed across his nude, shaved chest. Noticing that she was looking, he made his pectoral muscles bounce at her before leaning over the bar, a tad too close, to hear her answer.

A man-boob dance wasn't something Lana had actually ever witnessed in person, and a week before, she'd have been embarrassed. But now, after all she'd been through, it was only annoying.

How rude. Lana thought, and coughed without covering her mouth into the face of Mr. Ego. He got the hint, scrunching his face and raising his arm to shield off the tiny spit shower, while he retreated a few steps.

Good boy, Lana thought. She consumed the laughter that was emerging inside and signaled a fake apologetic gesture, mouthing the word "oops." Practically screaming, she placed her order. "Four shots of jack please!"

"Coming right up." Mr. Ego bartender's voice was lower than Lana's. Was it because she was a werewolf? Ugh, she was starting to question everything!

"Make that eight," an intruding voice demanded.

The voice sounded familiar, like the taste of chocolate covered cherries; sweet, pleasing, but bad for you. She had the feeling someone was starting to make a habit of popping up where he was unwanted. Lana turned to confirm her suspicions.

"What the hell do you want?" Lana barked.

Ira flashed a handsome grin. "You're really good at playing hard to get."

She could have sworn her treacherous heart skipped a beat when he smiled at her like that. It annoyed her that she found him so appealing. Hello? Shouldn't she still be hung up on the murdered ex? Okay, so she did eat him, but. . .

"Shove off," she said, reaching for the shots she ordered.

He grabbed her hand, clasping it in his like a carriage driver from the forties would help a high-class lady step aboard. Lana was jolted with an icy shock and pulled back in confusion, making a stank face to cover it. "Unhand me, you fuck."

Ira grinned wider, then released her. "Don't play so tough, girl," lowering his tone, he continued, "I know very well what I do to you." He drank her in with his eyes, focusing a bit longer on her butterfly top. "I can see your perky nips. I must add, I'm not complaining. . ."

Lana's mouth hung wide. Who does this fool think he is? "What. The. Fuck. Did you just say, you crazy son of a bitch?"

Lana's tiny fist balled up as her ears grew warm, the way they always did when she was embarrassed or angry. In this case, both.

The troublesome blonde gestured toward her chest. "You can't deny it," he said smoothly.

Lana couldn't allow this prick to utter another word. She grabbed Ira by his black blazer, pulling him close, and kneed him right slap in the walnuts without holding back.

Turns out, getting hit in the precious by a werewolf hurts like all kinds of hell, because the tough man let out a deep howl of agonizing pain and crumbled; had she not been holding him by his jacket, he'd have been in the floor for sure. She let her hand open, letting Ira fall to his knees, gripping his manhood.

"Anything else, miss?" The bartender called her attention back. He shoved the eight shots of Jack, neatly on a tray, toward her on the counter. He even tossed in another wink, like he hadn't just seen her floor a six-foot-something grown man.

"Thanks. Oh yeah, the blonde one here, on the ground," Lana indicated with a nudge to Ira's ribs with her foot, "he said to put it on his tab. Add a thirty percent gratuity tip on it as well."

Flashing a triumphant grin, she grabbed the tray. Ira still lay hunched over, hissing sorely through his pearly whites. She stepped over him, and shot a warning over her shoulder.

"Don't you ever talk about my perky nipples, you hear me?" she spat, then inspected her breast to reassure herself that, yes, they were perky indeed. "Or anything else on my body." If truth be told, part of her had been flattered. Perhaps the part of her that had been a doormat for too many people for too long. She hated it. "You suck!" she added as she continued to walk away.

"Did he seriously follow us?" Raya asked as Lana joined her back at the table.

"Looks like it." Lana shrugged.

"Loser," Raya grimaced as she watched him rise from the floor. "Damn good hit, by the way."

"Forget him. I'm ready to put on my, my, my boogie shoes," Lana sang.

She started dancing again, and soon moon walked right into Ira, bouncing off like she'd rammed a brick wall. After stumbling, she turned on him.

"Seriously, what's your deal?"

"You're cute," he said playfully.

"Shouldn't you be laying over there writhing or, I don't know, running with scissors, or playing with matches? Anything but be in my happy zone?" she said.

"Come on, Lana, don't be like that," he begged.

Lana glared at him as she downed another shot.

"You're not going to get drunk like that," he told her.

"And why the hell not?" she challenged, downing another for good measure. But it wasn't really doing much of anything unless she counted making her sweat.

"You're a were-"

"Shut up!" Raya jumped in, hopping from her seat and getting in his face. "What do you know? How do you know?"

"Chill, big sis," Ira said. "I knew what you were when I first saw you."

Raya flashed back to the gas station. The other customer who waited in front of her in line. It was him! Then she remembered a glimpse of a man that held the door open for them at Denny's.

"Holy shit! You've been following us!" she accused.

"What are you?" Lana asked suspiciously.

"I'm your fairy godfather," he teased.

The girls gave him a deadpan glare.

"Okay, fine, I'm not a fairy. I am supposed to look over you though. How can I do that if you keep treating me like an enemy?" he asked.

The sisters exchanged meaningful looks. He knew what they were, and he seemed to know things about what they were, not to mention, he had been quite friendly. However, Raya knew that friendly didn't always mean good. Lana knew that he was bad for her - the way she caught herself appreciating the highlights in his hair was just dangerous.

"We haven't had many... friends," Raya supplied finally, deciding they'd see what he was about, and hoping Lana would follow suit.

"Well, I'm a helpful friend to have. I know things," he claimed.

"Like what?" Lana asked skeptically.

"Like you'd have to spend a fortune on that stuff for it to work on you. Your metabolism is insane now. Everything about you is sped up. No way that's going to soak in fast enough," he explained, getting close enough for their wolf-ears only.

"So what are these for?" Lana indicated the tray with six remaining shots.

Ira turned to the crowd. In the middle of the dance floor, stood an obviously drunk guy in leather pants and no shirt, flinging glow sticks around in no particular fashion.

"For him." Ira nodded.

Lana was confused. She'd initially thought he was trying to get her drunk, but that hadn't been his plan at all. Why was she sad about it?

"Are you gay?" she asked, because that would be a good explanation for him to not want to get her drunk and take advantage of her right there on the sticky bar table, or back in the grimy restroom - God what was getting into her?

"Nope, not gay. Just tactful. Finish getting that guy sloshed, take him out back, and you'll get drunk. You'll get drunk off of him," he insisted.

"What? No way. We're not that kind of girls," Raya protested.

"Aren't you?" Ira's brow raised. "Look at his lean flesh, his- well, his less-than-graceful teasing movement, the heat radiating off of his body. Can't you imagine how he would taste? How the warm, satisfying meat would quench your thirst and your hunger?"

Raya and Lana were salivating over the raver. They were so hungry. The wolf in them was murderously hungry, and Ira knew just what to say to the wolf. He knew exactly what they needed. It made perfect sense.

Before they knew it, they'd waltzed over to the sweaty raver, crowing over his physic, which was satisfactory, and his dance skill, which was mediocre at best. They were two vixens with a mission. It didn't take much for the beauties to lure the raver to their table, each taking an arm and leading him. They practically forced the whiskey down his throat.

"Are you angels or Goddesses?" he wondered aloud.

Lana giggled and Raya replied, "Something like that."

Of course they knew in the backs of their minds that it was so very wrong, but they couldn't stop themselves. The wolf had sighted it's prey, and it would have it.

Ira followed them, Lana, Raya, and the raver, out the back door of the club.

Lana ran her fingers through his damp hair, while he struggled to focus on her face. He wanted to remember this moment, the time he bagged two sexy bitches, but he was so sloshed that he knew it would be a fat chance.

"You usually let your boyfriend watch you seduce strangers?" he slurred at Lana. He'd seen her with the blonde earlier, they looked like they were having a lover's spat. The blonde looked like he was getting off on this or something now, though.

"Don't mind him. It's just us, baby," Lana cooed, rubbing herself against him.

Raya slipped up beside her and licked the length of the raver's neck. He tasted salty, and what she really wanted to do was rip into him right then and there.

"Do you want to see a magic trick?" she teased, stepping back. She began to disrobe, lifting her shirt slowly.

The raver was in a drunken, unbelievable stupor. He nodded his head sloppily, lost for words.

What are you doing, Raya? Her mind screamed. Oh, shut the fuck up. She thought back at it.

Lana drew back and followed suit.

There was no chance for him. By the time they'd transformed, and the man realized he wasn't getting laid, it was too late. They ripped, slurped, and chewed him up like a great juicy t-bone steak. The experience was intoxicating to them. It seemed they'd only just begun when an angry voice cut into their dining pleasure.

"What the fuck are you whores doing? In the middle of an alley? Have you lost your damn minds? Stop!"

The girls snapped to attention, unable to disobey their alpha.