Whether the glass was half full or half empty didn’t really matter, he’d never much liked whiskey to start with. Jake Silversmith, werewolf for hire, stared grumpily into his glass, the scent of alcohol powerfully strong in the tiny room. He hadn’t asked for the drink, Marlow had just handed it to him out of some aristocratic habit and apparently expected him to enjoy it. No wonder vampires and werewolves were mortal enemies.
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