Rhoan grinned, then flicked another glance at the mirror and swung into a side street, pressing his foot hard on the accelerator. The tires squealed as they slipped then caught, and the car shot forward. Another look at the mirror, another left, and then he was stopping. I jumped out of the car and ran into the shadows of the nearest building, hunkering down in the doorway so I was less likely to be seen. Rhoan moved off, but slower this time.
Within a minute, the white Toyota slid around the corner and accelerated. I waited until they'd almost passed, then slipped my laser from its holster and shot out both the nearside tires. Then I was up and running.
The car skidded to an awkward stop, inches away from a blue Ford parked along the curb. Up ahead, Rhoan had stopped at an angle, letting the car block the road as he scrambled out.
Two men tumbled from the Toyota. The driver headed toward Rhoan, while the passenger came running in my direction. I stepped in his path, and a grin split his strong, hairy features. "You're not going to try and stop me, are you, little girl?"
"You're right," I said, moving in so fast he barely had time to blink before my fist was buried into his gut. "I'm not going to try and stop you."
The air left his lungs in a whoosh, and he collapsed to his knees with an odd sort of wheeze. I grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and dragged him back toward the car. A quick look ahead showed that Rhoan had the driver under control.
I threw hairy guy into the side of the car. He hit headfirst and cursed. I ignored it, patted him down for weapons, then caught his right arm and pressed it up and back against his spine. His curse became a hiss of pain.
"Ease up, girly. I ain't done nothin' to you."
"You're following a guardian. While that may not be illegal, it's certainly considered an insane practice by most. Especially us guardians."
"You ain't no guardian."
I pushed just a little bit harder on his arm, then with my free hand, got out my badge and shoved it in his face. "Proof enough, buddy boy?" He nodded, and I put the badge away. "Why were you following us?"
"I was paid to, wasn't I?"
"By whom?"
"I don't know. I didn't talk to the contact, did I?"
"Did your friend the driver talk to him?"
"Yes."
I reached sideways and opened the passenger door. "You will get inside the car and you will not move out of it or I will cut your flaming legs off. Understand?"
He nodded. I shoved him inside, slammed the door shut and walked across to Rhoan. He had the driver spread-eagled against the rear of our car, and was leaning against him, one elbow planted in his back to hold him in place as he went through the driver's wallet.
"You get the name of his employer?" I asked, stopping at an angle so I could keep an eye on hairy guy.
"Not yet. He's demanding we arrest him, and that he gets his phone call before he says anything."
I raised my eyebrows. "You did tell him we're guardians, not cops, didn't you?"
"Nope. Why bother with niceties when it comes to scum?" He closed the wallet and shoved it back into the man's pocket. "You want to do the honors?"
"Honors?" the driver squawked. "What fucking honors? What the hell are you talking about?"
We both ignored him. "You know it's a pain in the ass using telepathy on crap like this - why don't you just beat it out of him?"
"Beat? You can't beat me - it's against the fucking - "
Rhoan dug his elbow in a little harder and the rest of the driver's sentence was lost to his yelp.
"He's human."
"So fucking what? Just beat him up, get the name, and let's get on with it."
"Okay, okay, I'll talk."
Rhoan gave me a grin, then wrapped his arm around the driver's neck and drew him upright. "So talk," he said, voice soft. Deadly.