Broken (19 page)

A questioning whine by my ear. Clay looked at me, his head tilted, “Still here?” in his eyes.

Oh, right. Before I could enjoy the forest, there was the small matter of a fleeing vampire to contend with.

It had been nine days since my last run, and I paid the price when I tried picking up Zoe’s trail. Every other scent, every sound, every sight, even the feel of muddy ground squelching under my pads, was infinitely more enticing than a vampire’s scent. The faint smell of wood-smoke said: go check it out. The patter of rabbit feet: dinner, come and get me. A glimmer of light in the trees: go see what that is. Come here, they whispered, forget the vampire…

Then I found her trail, and the other voices went silent, drowned under the single overwhelming cry of “prey.” An intelligent, humanoid target, not the silly little bunnies I could have anytime. And not only was I allowed to chase her—I had to.

I ran full speed down the path with Clay at my heels. There was no need to take cover. There wouldn’t be any other predators here, and if we came upon a person, they’d only catch a flash of fur before we dove into the undergrowth.

Faint though Zoe’s scent was, my wolf brain focused on it with a single-mindedness I could never have managed in human form. She was headed for the ravine. Behind me, Clay gave a low growl. I looked up. We’d hit the top of the cliff and there, below, was Zoe’s white shirt bobbing along the path. She’d slowed to a brisk walk, certain she’d left the waddling pregnant chick back in the alley.

I stopped at the top of the path, claws digging into the dirt, feeling the ground below me, soft but dry. Good. Sliding down the incline muzzle-first wasn’t quite the entrance I had in mind.

I glanced at Clay. His mouth hung open, tongue lolling, blue eyes dancing with “go for it.” Hindquarters twitching, I tested my grip for takeoff. A flick of my tail and I barreled down the cliff, picking up speed with every stride.

I was less than ten feet behind Zoe when she finally heard me. She turned. And I got my reward, in that split-second look of “Oh, my God” surprise and, yes, terror. Catch them off guard, and apparently you can even spook a vampire. Nice.

Zoe did what anyone seeing a 140-pound wolf barreling straight at them would do—tried to run. But before she could move, I sprang and caught her in the shoulder. She went down, managing to roll as she fell.

I could have snagged her arm. Could have…but chose not to because it had all been too easy. Normally, I don’t chase humans. Somewhere along the way, my adrenaline-stoked brain could slide from play mode into hunt, and I couldn’t take that chance. But Zoe Takano couldn’t be killed, not accidentally and certainly not easily.

My bite couldn’t even turn her into a werewolf—Clay and I had discovered that while helping Aaron catch a rogue. So I could toy with her, safely. Even Jeremy would see the value in it, giving her a taste of my strength as a bargaining tool for negotiations.

I let Zoe dive out of the way. Then snarling and snapping, I grabbed for her arm, only grazing her bare skin with my fangs, but making a good show of it. A little reminder that she wasn’t completely immune to injury—a good snap of powerful jaws around her wrist or forearm and that was it. Vampires could heal, but if they lost something, it didn’t grow back.

When I charged her again, she feinted to the side and then, hallelujah, she started to run.

Frustration

I GAVE ZOE A TEN
-
SECOND HEAD START WHILE I CHECKED
for Clay, then tore after her. I was an above-average runner, as wolf and human, and I started to close the gap right away. She zagged off the path into the bush, dodging trees and ducking under branches with a gymnast’s grace.

Clay stayed on the path, out of sight, racing ahead to cut Zoe off if she got away from me. I wove through the forest, getting close enough to be spattered with clods of dirt thrown up by her boots.

She didn’t trip or falter once. In the woods, I fell behind. My belly made sharp turns and twists near-impossible.

A car horn blared, and my ears shot forward. The rumble of tires, the stench of exhaust, the faint glow of streetlights. Damn! Another hundred feet and we’d be out of the park. I skidded to a halt, threw back my head and howled. Before the last note left my throat, Clay’s answering cry came from southwest…and Zoe was heading due south. He’d never cut her off in time.

I roared back into pursuit, scanning the darkness as I ran. Zoe’s T-shirt bobbed to my left, but I already knew she was there. What I wanted was—There, just southeast of us, an open patch.

I flew forward on a southwest angle, coming up to the right of her. Like anything fleeing a predator, she instinctively turned away from me and headed southeast. When she hit the edge of the clearing, I hunkered down, running as fast as I could, counting off the paces between us and then…airborne.

I hit Zoe between the shoulder blades. She tripped, and as she fell, she twisted so we ended face-to-face, me atop her.

Zoe looked up and met my eyes. Hers widened, surprised and…delighted. A throaty laugh.

“It
is
you, isn’t it?” She stroked the ruff on my neck. I growled, but she only smiled. “That hair is unmistakable. I don’t know which is more beautiful—the woman or the wolf.” Her eyes glinted. “Equally deadly either way, I’ll bet.”

She buried her fingers in my fur. I snapped. She laughed.

“Tetchy. You prefer the chase to the catch, don’t you?” A wicked grin. “We can have another go. You’ve won this round, so I’ll give you your forfeit—tell you what I know about the letter. But if you’d rather play some more before we get down to business, I’m game.”

I lifted my head to look for Clay. Zoe brushed her fingertips along the fur at my throat. I snapped again.

“Come now, I’m only curious. I’ve never touched a werewolf. The only two I’ve met weren’t the sort I cared to talk to, much less touch.”

She leaned back for a better look. “A female werewolf. There can’t be many of you around. Shame really. Women make the better predators, I’ve always said. Or certainly the more interesting ones.”

She continued to talk. Being unable to speak gave me a good excuse for not participating in the conversation. Zoe didn’t seem to mind, just lay there on her back, pinned by a wolf, chatting as calmly as if we were back in Miller’s, having a beer.

About ten minutes after my takedown, the bushes rustled. Clay stepped through, Changed into human form and dressed in sweatpants and an oversized T-shirt. Clothesline pickings.

“Got you some clothes, darling,” he said. “Should fit, but probably not well.”

He laid them just outside a thicket where I could Change. At the sound of his voice, Zoe had started. Then she looked over at him, and her eyes narrowed. Turning back to me, she said, “I think we can keep this between ourselves, don’t you?”

Clay put his foot on Zoe’s sternum. I backed off her and loped to the thicket to Change.

“Thank God,” Zoe said when I returned. “He hasn’t stopped talking since you left.”

She glared up at Clay, who stood exactly as I’d left him, his mouth shut, as it likely had been the whole time I’d been gone.

“You can get off me now,” she said.

He lifted his foot and walked over to me, hand brushing mine. “I’ll scout, make sure we don’t have any unexpected guests. You need me, just shout.”

“I will.”

Clay glanced back at Zoe, then at me. “Have fun, darling.”

“Dah-lin’?” Zoe mimicked as Clay walked away. She shuddered. “Please don’t tell me that’s daddy wolf.”

“Don’t tell her then,” Clay said without turning. “None of her business.”

Zoe made a face as she brushed herself off. “Just brimming with southern charm, isn’t he? You could do so much better.” Her gaze met mine and she stretched again. “No? Why don’t we play a little more chase-and-pounce, and see if I can’t change your mind?”

“If we play chase-and-pounce again, you’re not going to like how it ends. When a werewolf chases, the wolf expects a kill. One frustrated hunt it can handle. Not two.”

“Unless the prey can’t be killed.”

“The predator can sure as hell try.”

She threw back her head and laughed. “Touché. As tempting as a chase would be, it clearly won’t arouse the kind of frustration I’d care to relieve. I’ll surrender my forfeit, then. Tell me more about this letter, and I’ll see what I can remember.”

So I did, leaving out how we got the letter, how we opened the portal, how we were still in possession of the letter, and focusing instead on the results and what little information we’d gleaned about it.

After I finished, she leaned back and closed her eyes. “The
From Hell
letter? I know I should remember more but…” She looked at me and shook her head. “Remembering a job I did eighty years ago is no different than asking a hundred-year-old human to remember a work assignment he undertook at twenty. The letter was historically significant, yes, but the circumstances surrounding the theft were obviously mundane enough that I can barely remember anything more than that I
did
do this job.”

“There was a spell cast on the original location. Do you remember that?”

She nodded. “A spell to keep the letter—all the letters—from being stolen by any living being. Presumably someone on the police force was a sorcerer, and cast the spell to protect them. That’s why the buyer hired me.”

“This buyer…do you remember who it was?”

“Of course. He is—or was—a regular customer of mine.”

When she didn’t continue, I said, “Can you provide a name?”

She met my gaze. “I’d rather you did, and I can confirm or deny.”

“And I’d rather
you
—”

“His grandson continues to be a customer of mine, and I don’t babble about my clients, past or present, unless there is a very good reason. Granted, a zombie-spewing portal is indeed a good reason, but if you took that letter, as you claim, then you already know the grandson’s name.”

“Patrick Shanahan.”

She nodded. “The original purchaser was his grandfather, Theodore.”

“Did Shanahan commission the theft himself?”

“I presume so…”

“But you don’t remember.”

She shook her head.

“Do you remember whether your client wanted this letter specifically? Or just something from the Ripper files?”

“I believe any…no, maybe it was…” A sharp shake of her head. “Something snagged there, but it’s not coming free.”

When I glanced in Clay’s direction, she said, “You don’t need to call in the muscle to work me over.”

“That wasn’t—”

“If you want to call your mate over to get his opinion on my sincerity, go ahead, but I have no reason to block you. You’ve just informed me that my city has an open dimensional portal, leaking zombies. I’ve lived here all my life and have no intention of leaving, so I’d just as soon see this portal closed.”

“That may be so, but I doubt Toronto is about to be sucked into a dimensional portal, and these zombies aren’t after
you
.”

“That’s just because they haven’t run across me yet. Zombies don’t like vampires very much. Jealousy, I suppose—two kinds of undead, one immune to harm, the other dropping body parts with every sneeze. So I have no incentive to lie about this letter. Let me think about it overnight and I’m sure I’ll remember more.”

I didn’t bother asking about Shanahan. If she knew where he’d run to, she was more likely to tip him off than tell me where to find him.

I gave her my cell number.

“So I leave with a phone number,” she said. “Not bad, but it would be nice to have a name attached.”

When I didn’t respond, she laughed and patted my arm.

“No matter. A smaller challenge before the big one, and something to discuss next time.”

She squeezed my arm, shot a look at Clay, then sauntered into the night.

Clay rolled his eyes. “Vampires.”

Jeremy had struck out with Robert and Jaime too, leaving messages for both, but having heard nothing back.

“God, I hate running in place,” I said, stalking into our hotel room. “This is why we don’t have a treadmill. Energy expended and no destination reached. Frustrating.”

Clay walked up behind me and put his hands on my hips. “Almost as frustrating as hunting with no catch.”

“Or a catch that didn’t mind being hunted.”

He chuckled against my neck. “I thought you liked hunting willing prey.”

“Only one kind. Or, I should say, one specific instance of one kind.”

“Well, then, what if that one specific instance offered to compensate for your loss. It’s not too late to slip back to the park. Change, hunt and…” He nipped my earlobe. “Do as you wish.”

I pressed back, felt him hardening against me and shuddered. “The one problem with that scenario. I
can’t
do as I wish.”

His hands traveled under my shirt and up my sides.

“Or maybe we could try,” I said. “Just one more time. A change of position perhaps.” I bent forward and thrust back against him. “I know you like it face-to-face, but in an emergency…”