Kian lifts his head and levels an irritated glare at me. “You got a better idea?”
“You know I don’t,” I shoot back.
He bares his teeth at me. “That’s what I thought.”
And just like that, the little bit of warmth I had for him after he tended my wounds fades.
Fucker.
Just before three, we help ourselves to some supplies from the house, then head out to get started on the questioning.
It’s not my favorite plan, but like Kian so eloquently pointed out, it’s our only plan.
There isn’t much to the downtown area. It’s a larger place than the nowhere-ville that Erik lived in, but it’s not as big as Oscura. We park our bikes in a small grocery store parking lot then take off on foot, but it becomes clear pretty fast that there isn’t a lot of foot traffic on the sidewalks.
“If all else fails,” Kian says, “we could go into some of the shops.”
Frost holds up a hand, shaking his head “Cameras. We’d get caught on record.”
Kian rolls his eyes. “You think any place in this podunk town has security cameras?”
Malix slides sideways between them. “How about before we crash the stores and brave the cameras, we try that guy over there?” He points out a figure walking down the sidewalk across the street.
Kian moves to step off the sidewalk, but I slap the back of my hand to his barrel chest. “Nope,” I say. “You stay here. You look like you want to kick his ass. We want him to talk, not run like a little girl.”
I hop off the curb and look both ways before jogging across the two lane road to follow after the man.
“Hi! Excuse me?” I say, using my best ditzy midwestern girl accent.
The man turns, his eyes pinched in irritation, but the moment his gaze lands on me, a smile lights up his face. Not a genuine one, since it doesn’t reach his eyes. Just an acknowledgement that at least the girl who’s bothering him is hot.
“I’m so sorry to disturb you,” I say as I stop in front of him. I wind my finger in my dark hair and smile shyly. “It’s just… I’m lost, you see? I’m hoping you might know where I can find the Tree of Life.”
He laughs. “You’re kidding. This is a joke, right?”
I shake my head and do my best to look confused. “No? I’m supposed to meet an old friend there.”
The guy shakes his head, his grin widening. “Come on. A pretty girl like you shouldn’t believe in shit like that. You sound like Crazy Harry.”
I don’t like the way he calls me “a pretty girl,” in a dismissive tone that tells me that’s all he thinks of me as. But getting pissy with him over the tone of his voice won’t get me answers.
I widen my vapid smile and throw a little hip pop in. “Who’s Crazy Harry?”
“Just some local weirdo,” he says with a shrug. “He’s always going on about crazy shit like magic. Standing outside the general store with a sign about the end of days or some shit.”
“Does he live nearby?”
The man steps closer to me, giving me what I figure he thinks is a sexy look. “Oh no, baby. You don’t wanna go anywhere near that psycho.” He reaches up and touches my arm. “But you should let me take you to dinner tonight.”
“Oh, that’s real sweet,” I say, my voice as syrupy as possible. I’m paging through my brain archives, trying to find the right words to let him down easy, since he seems like the type to get offended the moment I say no. Especially since he’s hitting on a girl in an oversized t-shirt, cotton shorts that hang to her knees, and who’s covered in bruises and scratches.
He’s clearly not picky.
Before I can speak again, he moves a little bit closer and lowers his voice. “Are you aware there are three men watching you?”
I glance across the street where I left the feral shifters. They’re all facing us, arms crossed, expressions dead serious.
Jesus, have they never heard of lying low?