I swallowed. “Okay, so how do I subdue a werewolf?”
“Knock him unconscious. Shoot him if you have to. You don’t need silver bullets.”
“I know.”
“Don’t kill him, just—”
“Disable him. Got it.”
I was already hanging up as Tristan promised me a backup team was on the way.
I made it as far as the broom closet door, one hand on the knob, the other on my gun, still hidden in my purse. I turned the handle and—
“You there!”
I dropped the gun into my purse and wheeled as a white-haired security guard strode toward me.
“What are you doing in that room?” he said.
I let go of the knob and stepped away. Inside, a broom clattered to the floor. The guard’s eyes narrowed.
“Let me guess,” I said. “This isn’t the coatroom.”
Something clanged against a metal bucket. Then a clacking, like nails against linoleum. Marsten had changed into a wolf. Of course he’d changed into a wolf. What else would a cornered werewolf do?
The guard reached for the handle. I envisioned him pulling open the door, and a wolf leaping at his throat.
I grabbed the knob and held it. “It’s jammed, see?” I made a show of jangling it. “I heard something inside. That’s why I was trying to open it. But it’s jammed.”
“Probably locked. The janitor has the keys.”
“Good,” I said. “Why don’t you go find him. I’ll wait here.”
The guard started to leave. Then he paused. “First, let me try the door. It might just be sticking.”
I backed into the door so fast my head cracked against it. The guard reached to steady me.
“Heels,” I mumbled. “I’m always tripping in them.”
I stepped forward, and let my knee give way. The guard grabbed my arm as I grimaced.
“My ankle. Damn. I think I twisted it.”
“Just sit down, miss. I’ll find a doctor. Let me try the door.”
Now what? Short of falling to my knees and howling in agony, I was out of stalling tactics. He reached for the handle. Okay, one pratfall coming up—
The knob turned on its own. The door opened. Karl Marsten stepped out, fully dressed.
“Well, that was embarrassing,” he said with a self-deprecating half smile. “I could’ve sworn this was the bathroom, and then the door jammed shut behind me. Thank you. I really didn’t want to call for help.”
He shook the security guard’s hand. Then he turned to me and, with a murmured thank-you, a tip of his head, and a smile, he strolled off down the hall. I took a step after him.
“Miss?” the guard said. “Do you want me to call a doctor?”
“Doctor? Oh, right. My ankle. No, my … my date is a doctor. I’ll just—”
I looked up and down the hall. The guard pointed toward the party … in the opposite direction to Marsten’s retreating back. Damn. I managed a weak smile and a thank-you, and fake-hobbled back to the gala.
When I reached the party, Douglas was still with the Bairds. I tried making a beeline for the opposite door, to go after Marsten, but Douglas hailed me.
“Sorry,” I said as I returned to him. “I saw an old friend over there. I’ll just go say hi.”
“Friend?” He perked up. “What company does he work for?”
“She’s a musician. Classical. With the symphony.”
His face fell. “Ah, well, you go on, then.” He nodded toward the Bairds. “I’m fine here.”
Marsten was gone. I switched on my mental tracking radar to find him before he escaped. I wasn’t giving up that easily. Maybe I was being naive, but Marsten hadn’t acted like a cornered wild beast. He’d barely even exuded any chaos signals.
Tristan could be something of a mother hen. Expisco half-demons were rare, and one willing to work on the side of the white hats was rarer still. So I understood when Tristan didn’t want me in on takedowns or kept me sequestered from other agents. I knew my limitations, which were many, and I was careful.
I cleared my mind, and pulled up the images I’d seen at the buffet table: forest, running, fur, fangs. After about a minute of mental scanning, I picked up Marsten’s frequency. It was faint and flat—meaning he wasn’t causing any trouble. Not yet.
I focused on the signal and followed. I reached the T-junction again. Marsten’s trail went left. Heading for the back exit.
I hurried down the next corridor, turned the corner—and reeled back, smacked by a wave of chaos.
The voice came again, just like before, a gruff voice telling someone he shouldn’t be back here. The plea. Then the scream.
I closed my eyes and pivoted, trying to find the exact location—
There, around that next corner. I walked into a wall of darkness and braced myself as visions flashed.
Metal glinted. A blade winked in a flashlight beam. The flashlight clattered to the floor. A plea. No! Please—! The blade sheered down. Hands flew up. Blood sprayed.
I froze the vision there as I panted, my heart racing.
I fumbled in my purse, took out my key-chain penlight, and waved the weak beam over the walls. There. Blood droplets, invisible in the near darkness.
SIX
Were the blood drops still wet? I almost reached up to one before snatching my hand back. Look, don’t touch. Standing on my tiptoes, I moved the light closer to the specks. They glistened. Still wet, but drying. Recent.
I swung the beam to the floor and found faint smears of blood.
The trail stopped at a door. Tissue over my hand, I turned the knob. The door opened into an office. I shone my flashlight around. Nothing.
As the door closed behind me, I grabbed it and checked to make sure it wouldn’t lock me inside. Reassured, I eased the door shut and moved toward the center of the room.
As I walked, I picked up a twinge of trouble. This had to be the right place, but I couldn’t see anything out of …
A booted toe protruded from behind the desk. I hurried to it. The desk faced the wall, with a wide gap for computer cord access behind it, and that’s where the killer had stuffed the body. The desk was wedged between the adjoining wall and a huge metal filing cabinet, so I had to crawl onto the desk to peer behind it.
I shone the flashlight beam into the gap.
A man lay faceup in the gap. His eyes stared up in a final flash of “I don’t believe this is happening” horror. His security uniform shirt was a mess of gaping holes, the edges torn. Shredded. The flesh beneath the holes looked … mangled. Chewed.
A hand clamped over my mouth.
I kicked backward. My foot connected, but a second arm clinched around my neck and yanked me off the desk. My attacker spun me around, his hand slapping over my mouth again, and I found myself looking into blue eyes so cold and hard that my heart skipped.
“Did you think I wouldn’t smell the body when I walked by?” Marsten’s voice was as cold and hard as his eyes, all traces of smooth charm gone. “You would have been wiser to let me leave through the front door.”
I pulled back my fist and plowed it toward his gut. He caught my hand easily and squeezed. Tears of pain sprang to my eyes. He brought his face down to mine.
“I’m going to let go,” he said, his voice calm. “If you scream, I will crush your fingers. Do you understand?”
I blinked back tears and nodded. He took one hand from my mouth and relaxed the other one just enough to stop the throbbing pain.