Flint sat in the lookout car, it was parked across the street and half a block back. He didn’t talk to any passengers, more focused on keeping his eyes peeled for anything suspicious down the street. He feels his way to the glove compartment and removes another old fashioned revolver, he slips it into his jacket pocket then glances to the sawn off shotgun hidden between the seats, beside the hand break. After the last battle, Flint was not going to run out of firepower any time soon. 

Flint caught a few people he could suspect where vampires, how they moved so elegantly or the way there chest rose as they breathed. Despite this they weren’t just here for vampires, they were here for vampires they could use. Flint wasn’t really up to date on the vampire families, if he ever got a case he would read up on them but then would forget a few days later. As he opened up a bottle of cheap whiskey, Flint sighed out of boredom, glugging some of the dark liquid down