There were certain character traits that made distinguishing a supernatural from within a crowd of humans fairly easy, if you were observant enough to notice the signs. Vampires were the easiest to spot- inhuman beauty, porcelain skin, delicate features, and an almost dance-like gait when they walked. They always breathed a moment too late, as if barely remembering to do what humans do instinctively. Little gestures like adjusting their stance or keeping their limbs from a state of complete stillness always felt acted rather than natural.
Wolves were generally characterized by a confident air, borderline aggressive, and always swept a room with their eyes, gauging potential threats, before moving forward. A wolf's walk was swift and graceful, reminiscent of the animal whose name and form they shared.
Fae were the hardest to spot. More so than wolves or vampires, fae have mastered the art of disguise, blending almost seamlessly with the human population. Some were more prone to sharp, feral expressions or a conversational slip into a far older, more traditional pattern of speech, but those were rare and not to be counted on. One of the few reliable methods of ferreting out a fae was to watch their reaction to iron. Any good hunter generally kept a pendant or weapon made of the stuff on their person at all times.
But Caleb knew, even without trying to guess, that the women that walked into the restaurant were wolves. One sported the trademark characteristics- confidence, assertiveness, and charm. And the other... well, she certainly was no typical wolf.
But the one wolf called her "Rosemary", and he had already heard that name not ten minutes ago...
"Hmm," he said, thinking. If this is his sister, could this be the other woman he's been spending time with? The distraction? Guess she's certainly pretty enough to be distracting. Can't blame the guy. "You know what, forget the #17. You'll likely be more interested in the #4 or the #23. More meat on those."
The chocolate-haired one smiled at him, revealing dimples on each cheek. "Aren't you a sharp one?"
Caleb shrugged. "Part of the job."
"Flipping hamburgers requires a degree in werewolfology?"
"Hunting them does."
Dayle's attention perk, and her smile deepened as her mind raced. This guy's a hunter? Gee, King, thanks for sharing that handy little tidbit. If he's a Hunter, Jeremy will need to know about it... which might interfere with our plans. "Guess that would come in handy, now, wouldn't it?" Dayle replied sweetly.