I spotted a handful sliding out into the greenery beside the library, carrying a set of drums. The wind shifted and brought me a series of scents off the concrete walls, cutting through the motor oil and gasoline fumes.
Family.
One, two—I twisted around, trying to place the odors. Lisa’s father gave me some sort of a base scent for the Middleston family line but I couldn’t be sure until I met the kit face to face. The other Felis scents were foreign. They could be businessmen and women, street vendors or tourists off the beaten path.
I crept along the ground level until I could see the kids gathered in the far corner in the handful of empty handicapped parking spaces.
Five young men, two women. Drums, guitar and a flute player who kept stamping her feet and demanding something by the way she flung her arms around. Another man, a bit older than her, grabbed her forearm and snapped something in French.
I resisted the urge to charge. This was a street culture I knew nothing about and I had no place in. I reached into my pocket and touched my cell phone, making sure it was on and within easy reach.
I wasn’t above calling 911 if it got nasty.
She growled something back and he released her with a laugh, stepping away with his hands raised.
I listened, trying to pick up the speech. It was hard to make out over the thumping and vibrating notes but I got something.
“You don’t deserve more than ten percent.” This from the drummer, crouched over his bongos. “You just got here.”
“But I’m good. All you do is bash away.” The guitar player stood up from tinkering with his acoustic guitar, allowing me a clear view of his face. “I pull in the people. You can’t deny that.”
Evan Chandler. Looking a bit rough around the edges, dark circles under his eyes and a definite strain in his voice. But he was alive and healthy and obviously adapting to his new life.
All good. Now I had to get to him and explain that I wasn’t the police, not his enemy and we needed to talk about Lisa and his future plans.
Evan froze in place and turned in a slow circle, taking short puffs.
“What’s up?” This from the flute player. “You okay?”
I held my breath instinctively even though it wouldn’t make a difference. The wind whipped around us, twisted and warped through the concrete pillars. If I could scent him he sure as hell could scent me.
He snatched up his guitar and bolted, leaping over the low wall dividing the parking lot from the library. He wasn’t taking any chances. I was too close to him, too close for comfort.
“Shit.” I charged between the cars, not caring if anyone saw me or not. “Evan. Evan!”
The kids scattered as I approached, grabbing their instruments and sprinting out in all directions. I ignored them and focused in on Evan.
I hopped over the barrier and hit the thin line of grass in a crouch, ready to pursue. All I needed to do is get a few minutes with him and I’d be able to—
Something slammed into my right side, a meat wall propelling me into the concrete beside me, the bricks not giving an inch as my head bounced. The freshly-healed skin on my left arm screamed on impact and threatened to split open like an over-ripe peach.
Another Felis scent filled my nose, thick and musky as I fell to the ground.
The fuzzy image flashed over me before disappearing from sight.
Not Evan Chandler.
I hiccupped once before the world went black.
Chapter Five
I ran through the forest, the full moon sending down a distorted light to show me the path. It was an unfamiliar area and I chose my steps carefully.
The rising and falling howls behind me said it all.
I was being hunted.
I leaped over the fallen log blocking the path. It slowed me down a fraction of a second but it was enough for my pursuers to gain ground.
The shout came from my left, a flanker keeping me on the trail. It was answered by a trio of growls from behind.
A tree root caught my foot and tripped me. I tumbled head over heels, twisting to the right and finding a hill there eager to accelerate my fall.
I landed a few inches from a deep hole. Scrambling to my feet I assessed the size of the pit.
Too deep to jump across.
I couldn’t see the bottom.
It spread out to each side, the edges out of sight or obscured by deep brush.
I couldn’t get around it.
The roaring behind me intensified. They were going to be on me in seconds.
I took a deep breath and jumped into the darkness.
“I’m sorry about the inconvenience.” The angel’s voice chirped behind my eyes. “You were listed as her emergency contact.”
“That’s all right.” A familiar voice growled somewhere down around my feet, pushing away the darkness. “Damned woman’s pretty high-maintenance. I’ll send the bill to her sweetheart.”
My nostrils were stinging from the acrid smell, prompting a throbbing behind my eyes that jutted down through my veins and into every part of my body.
In short, I felt like hell.
I wrestled my eyes open to see Hank Attersley watching me.
The middle-aged cop grunted as he got out of the hospital-issue chair and walked to the top of the bed. “’Bout time you woke up.”
“What—” I licked bone-dry lips. “What happened?”
“You got smacked in the head.” He pointed to the left side of his balding skull. “Always thought you had a hard head but you didn’t need to prove it to me.”
I lifted myself up a few inches. The hospital gown fluttered around my shoulders, the thin cloth ties barely holding on.
Hank paused, waiting for me to either give him a free show or settle down.
I stopped moving.
Hank looked relieved. “You were out for a bit. They did a MRI, made sure you didn’t crack that eggshell. Nothing there but they’re keeping you overnight to make sure there’s nothing major wrong.”
I lifted my left hand, seeing the thin needle and transparent tube leading back up to the intravenous drip. “Fuck.”
Hank wagged a finger at me. “Language, language. Don’t be hurting my virgin ears.”
I smiled despite the pain. “That might be the only part of you that’s left, smart ass.”
The detective mimed an arrow hitting his heart. “Such disrespect. I came as soon as they called, left a pile of paperwork on my desk for this.” The relief was evident on his face. “I’m just glad you’re okay. I figured your luck had finally run out when they told me you’d gotten smacked in the head. A lot of people don’t do well after that sort of injury.”
I struggled to sit up again, succeeding this time. “I’m sorry, Hank. I didn’t mean to cause you any trouble.”
He grunted again and touched the controls on the edge of the bed, raising the mattress behind me to support my back.
Our relationship had been rocked in the last few weeks by my involvement in a murder and kidnapping. We hadn’t been on opposite sides but it’d been rough, with me falling back on a family lawyer to stay out of jail, putting Hank and me at odds for the first time.
“You feel good enough for a sip?” He poured out a glass of water before I could answer. “Doctor said to take it easy, you got banged up nice. I probably shouldn’t even give you this but you look parched.”
I leaned in and sipped through the straw sticking out of the Styrofoam cup. The cool water washed down my dry throat.