“Out!” she said. “Now!”
She scrambled out. He followed. The phone kept ringing. Then, as the car doors slammed shut behind him, the ringing grew muffled, and he realized she’d left the phone in the car. She prodded him until they were fifty feet away.
“Cell phones are used to set off bombs,” she said before he could ask.
They stood on the curb and watched the car, still running. They were on the edges of the suburb now. A lone truck slowed as it approached. Vanessa waved her own cell phone, telling him it was fine, they’d called a tow truck.
The other phone kept ringing.
“We’re assuming Malcolm put it in there, right?” Nick said. “That he was watching Stokes’s house and planted the phone, and I was in too big a hurry jumping into the car to notice his scent in the garage. Is there any other explanation?”
“No. It’s Malcolm.”
“Okay, then I’m ninety-nine percent sure it’s not a bomb. He’d never use one.”
Vanessa shook her head, gaze still trained on the car. “Anyone can adapt—”
“Not Malcolm. He really is an old dog. Using a bomb is a trick he couldn’t learn even if he wanted to, and believe me, he wouldn’t want to.”
The phone stopped ringing. A few seconds of silence passed. Another car slowed. Vanessa waved it on. The phone started again.
“He’s trying to make contact,” Nick said. “That’s his style. Engage the enemy.” He looked around. “And the alternative is that we leave the car running, with our stuff in it, and walk away.” He looked at her. “You stay here while I check the phone—”
“No. I might be able to tell if it’s been tampered with.”
Nick followed her back to the car. She flung open the passenger side then backpedaled, as if ready to dive aside. When no explosion came, she retrieved the phone and ran from the car. When they got fifty feet away again, Vanessa held the phone out gingerly, turning it over in her hands as it continued to ring.
“Stand back,” she said. “Please.”
Nick did, only because he knew she wouldn’t answer otherwise. Once he was about ten feet away, she hit the talk button.
“Hello.”
Nick could hear the voice on the other end, and it was as chilling as picking up Malcolm’s scent, like being sucked into a time warp back to a place you’d rather never visit again.
“Please put Nicholas on the phone,” Malcolm said.
“I don’t know who you—”
“I was in your car. I smelled him. I’m sure he’s right there. Just look around. Handsome fellow. Terribly charming. Not terribly bright.”
Nick resisted the urge to scowl at that. If—like Stokes—Malcolm considered Nick an idiot, it would only make him easier to catch.
Vanessa looked at Nick. He held out his hand.
“Hello, Malcolm,” he said into the phone.
“Nicky. How are you, boy?”
Not exactly a boy anymore, but Nick knew that wasn’t what Malcolm meant. Like the diminutive, it was meant to put Nick in his place.
“So where is he?” Malcolm asked.
“Where’s who?”
Malcolm laughed. “Are you that dense, boy? Your partner-in-crime. The brains and the brawn.”
“If you mean Clay, he’s at home. Probably sleeping.”
Another laugh, infused with impatience now. “There’s no way he’d send his pup out alone. I remember when you were boys, how you followed him around, just like a puppy. And as helpless as one. Clayton’s not only your friend—he’s your protector. If you’re there, he’s nearby. Guaranteed.”
“Would you like to wager on it?” Nick paused. “I’ve got a new car back home. A Jag. I remember you liked Jags. Mine’s top-of-the-line. If Clay’s here, you can have it. I bet you’d like that. Not a lot of fancy cars in your life these days.”
Silence.
“Yes,” Nick said. “Clay looked after me when I was young, because he was a full werewolf long before I was. And, yes, that’s not the only reason. I’m not my father. I’m not a warrior. But I’m not a boy anymore, either, and neither is Clay. His mate is the Alpha. He has children. Do you really think he’s going to come running after you? Do you really think you’re worth it?”
More silence. Then a laugh. “Yes, I do, because I saw his face at Nast headquarters. He’s not going to let me live out my retirement in peace.”
“No, he’s going to kill you. But first you need to be found, and that’s really more trouble than he’s willing to expend on you.”
More silence as Malcolm seethed. Vanessa motioned he might not want to antagonize Malcolm, but Nick knew what he was doing. No way in hell would Malcolm leave town if Clay wasn’t here. Running from Nick Sorrentino would just be humiliating.
“Clay may have given you his grunt work,” Malcolm said after a minute. “But he’ll show up. You’re in over your head.”
“Slaughtering humans is par for the course with you, Malcolm. Unless you’ve got a posse at your command, you like easy prey.”
“Oh, it isn’t me you need to worry about, Nicky. It’s the guys on the other end of the GPS in that phone you’re holding.”
Nick went quiet.
Malcolm chuckled. “That shut you up. Let me help, or you’ll be there all night figuring it out. Those three werewolf hunters you saw earlier are just one team on the prowl. There are two others, and they’re all in Detroit. And someone has helpfully provided them with the GPS in that phone. So you have two choices. Either you run back home to Daddy or you call Clayton and his bitch to come rescue you. Because otherwise—”
Tires squealed a couple of blocks over.
“In the car!” Nick said as he smacked the phone off. He drew his arm back to pitch the cell, but Vanessa grabbed his elbow. “They’re tracking the GPS,” he said. “He gave it to the werewolf hunters. Three teams of them.”
She took the phone from him. “Then we’ll have better luck throwing them off track with this. Get in and drive.”
18. NICK
Nick peeled off the curb and hit the gas, but it wasn’t exactly the sort of car he was used to, and when he looked into his rearview mirror, he could see a pickup bearing down on them.
“I’ve got their license number,” Vanessa said. “That’ll help later for ID, but right now, we need to lose them. Stay on the straightaway.”
“But they’re gaining—”
“This is no deserted back road. They’ll follow until they can find a place to push us off the street. Just give me two minutes to scramble this.”
“Scramble?”
“The signal. That won’t help with these guys, but it’ll keep the other teams from catching up.”
The truck got about three car lengths behind them and stayed there. While the road wasn’t busy, the occasional other vehicle meant their pursuers weren’t taking a chance. They were waiting for Nick to make his getaway by veering down a quiet side road.
“And … got it,” Vanessa said. “They’ll still see a GPS signal, but it’ll send them on a wild-goose chase. Can you lose these guys?”
“In this car?”
She chuckled. “It’s not a Jag, but there’s a distinct advantage to having an ordinary car—it’ll be much easier to lose them. Do you want to switch spots?”
He glanced over.
“We can do it,” she said. “I have before. Mid-car-chase driver switch.” A flashed grin. “It’s fun.”