It was a command, one I ignored. The would-be assassin was running toward South Bank, perhaps hoping to shake any pursuit in the crowd gathered near the casino. Meaning he either didn't realize I was a wolf, or he had no idea just how keen a wolf's hunting sense was
He kept running, looking over his shoulder as he did so, barreling into people and thrusting them out of the way. I loped after him, lithely avoiding the idiot humans who screamed or stepped into my path rather than out of it. The man ahead was another Gautier, right down to the long, greasy ponytail. He was obviously aware that he was being pursued, but he was looking over the wrong shoulder and I was drawing closer and closer. His scent was cloying, the minty smell barely covering the growing odor of death and decay. I wrinkled my nose and resisted the temptation to sneeze
He didn't head over the bridge, as I'd expected, running instead into the Clocks poker machine venue. I shifted shape, retied the shirt, then strode in after him
He weaved through the machines, not quite running. I kept back, out of sight. His scent lingered in the air, a trail I could follow anywhere, even in a venue layered with so many conflicting odors
Another aroma joined the throng - sandalwood. I smiled and glanced over my shoulder. Quinn was three feet behind me, my bag slung casually over his shoulder
His dark gaze was filled with anger as it met mine. "You could have gotten yourself into trouble running off like that." He handed me my sweater, and I put it on as he added, "It might have been a trap."
It still could be. Who knew where Gautier's double might lead us? "That arrow was aimed at you, not me."
"It would have got me, too." He reached out, catching my hand and raising it to his mouth as we walked. The brief caress of his lips across my fingers was unlike anything I'd ever felt before. Sweet, and yet at the same time, erotic. "Thank you," he added softly
I took a deep breath, trying to control my suddenly erratic pulse
Ahead, our would-be murderer ducked through a door and disappeared. I looked up at the sign above the door and smiled. He'd gone to the toilet. Perfect
"You mind the door." Quinn handed me back my bag and coat. "I'll have a little talk with our friend."
"Anyone else in there?"
His gaze narrowed slightly, and I knew he was using his infrared vision to check. "No."
"Good."
I followed him in, but stopped just inside, leaning back against the door as it closed. I have to say, the smell of men's toilets was never pleasant, no matter how much air freshener they used. Not that I'd been in all that many, but hey, it was one way of avoiding the queues in the women's during intermission at the theatre or concerts
The urinals weren't occupied, but one stall was. It had to be our man. Why he thought he'd be safe behind the closed door of a toilet was anyone's guess. Maybe he didn't get out amongst vamps or werewolves much
Quinn raised a foot and kicked the door open, then blurred so fast one second he was there, and the next he wasn't. There a brief flurry of sound, flesh smacking against flesh, then a squeak that was more a note of pain than fear. It wasn't Quinn's squeak
Silence fell. No conversation, no nothing. But I knew what was happening. Quinn was raiding the other man's mind
The door behind me bumped slightly, then someone knocked. "Sorry," I called. "Closed for cleaning. Someone vomited."
The gent on the other side cursed and walked away. "You'd better hurry, Quinn. Security will have seen us come in here. We probably haven't much longer before they investigate."
He came out five seconds later and closed the stall door before walking over to the basin to wash his hands. I watched him for a moment, then my gaze drifted back to that closed door and I felt a sudden chill. "He's dead, isn't he?"
"Yes." He didn't look at me, just finished washing his hands, then tore off some paper towel to dry them
"How?" I hadn't heard the snap of bones, so he certainly hadn't broken the other man's neck
"Heart attack." His dark gaze met mine and the coldness there chilled me. "An easy thing to do when you can read their minds and know their worst fears - and have the empathic capabilities to enforce the belief those fears are currently happening."
So he was empathic as well as telepathic. That certainly explained why he was catching my aura so strongly, despite my shields and his. "He died of fright?"
"I'm afraid so."
He dumped the paper in the bin and walked toward me. I would have backed away had I had anywhere to go. And while I recognized it was a ridiculous reaction, I just couldn't help it. As much as I was certain I could protect myself, I had the strangest feeling that, against this vampire, there was no defense
"We'd better get out of here," he continued, in that same soft, flat tone. "Security is coming."
I opened the door and walked out. Sure enough, two men in black security outfits were walking toward us. They didn't look at us, didn't even appear to notice us, and I knew Quinn had touched their minds, diverting their attention away from us
His fingers pressed into my back, but this time I stepped away from his warm touch, walking quickly through the room and out into the night. I stopped at the curb, crossing my arms and drawing the cool, flavorsome air deep