Two bullets each, one in the heart, one in the head, and the pair of werewolves were out for the count. This was the busiest full moon Dean had ever seen in his life. The werewolves had formed a pack despite their usual lone wolf mentality.
Dean heard growls behind him and the hair on the back of his neck rose. Without turning around he popped the clip out of his Colt 1911, the glint of silver flashing in the moonlight. He slipped it back in with a click. He sighed loudly. This was going to be a long night.