I stood up and dug out my credit card. "My turn," I said. "You paid for the last coffee."
"I do have a little more money than you."
"Like I care. And fair is fair."
He leant forward and kissed my forehead. "I do love the fact that my money isn't a factor to you."
"Hey, don't get me wrong, it's nice that you have money." I hesitated, then gave him a cheeky grin. "It means you can get me bigger and better presents come Christmas and birthdays."
"Ah, so there is a mercenary soul deep down inside."
"There's lots of things deep down inside." I paid the waiter, adding a generous tip, then slipped my arm through Kellen's again. "And maybe one day I'll allow you to plum those depths and uncover all my little secrets."
"Oh, a moment to anticipate, to be sure."
We stepped out onto the street. It was nearly two-thirty, and the crowds had thinned out a little. But music still pulsed from the Blue Moon and the scent of lust and arousal ran on the air, as delicious as the aroma of food.
I breathed deep, then gave a contented smile. "I love this place."
He raised an eyebrow, amusement still playing on his lips. "Lygon Street?"
I nodded as we walked toward the club. "I love the scents and the sounds. It always feels so alive, so vibrant, no matter what time of day or night."
"I guess." He looked around, as if taking it all in for the first time. "The only place we have in Sydney that compares to this is the Oxford Street area."
"That's mainly for gays, isn't it?"
"Used to be, before the wolf clubs moved in. Now it's a mix - and a huge tourist attraction, believe it or not."
"Oh, I'd - " I stopped mid-sentence as the ghostly tingle of awareness ran across my skin.
A vampire was near.
A vampire whose stench I'd smelled before, just before he'd taken a potshot at me.
The sensation of danger hit so hard that it left me gasping for air. Something fast and deadly was tearing through the night toward us.
Another goddamn bullet.
I threw myself sideways, knocking Kellen out of the way in the process.
"What the hell - ?" Instinctively, his arms went around me, cushioning my body with his own as we hit the pavement, hard.
Something burned past us, then a woman screamed. It was a high-pitched, wailing sound of horror and utter disbelief.
Gut churning, I broke free of Kellen's grip and twisted around. The bullet intended for me had found the head of the man behind me. And by found, I meant smashed into, and basically obliterated. Blood and bone and bits of god knows what else covered the woman who'd been walking beside him. She didn't even seem to notice, just stood there screaming and staring at the shattered remains of the man at her feet.
"Oh fuck," Kellen said.
Oh fuck, indeed. I pulled free of his arms and scrambled to my feet. After freeing my gun, I shoved my bag at him. "Grab my phone and call the Directorate. Tell them someone's had another potshot at me and taken out a civilian. Tell them I'm hunting the shooter."
"Another potshot?" He made a grab for my arm, his fingers slipping down the leather of my jacket before he gripped my wrist. "What the hell is going on?"
"I don't have time to explain." I stepped back and pulled free of his grip. Saw the surprise flicker in his eyes. Despite knowing what I was, he hadn't really realized the strength that it gave me. "Just ring the Directorate and look after that woman. I'll be back."
"But - "
I didn't hear the rest of his sentence. I simply turned and ran, following the faint scent of death and decay. The shot had come from behind and above, and that was where his scent was still coming from, I scanned the rooftops as I ran, and saw a shadow flicker on one. This time the bastard wasn't going to get away from me.