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No smell, still. But God, his hearing.
From his hideout, he watched a lone man stroll down the sidewalk. The guy’s clothes were high-class club, but he looked out of it, like he’d scored something that hit him a little hard. And then there was a car that passed by, a junker.
Overhead, a plane came in very low, and as he glanced up, he wondered if it was about to crash into the bridges—
His head ripped around to the alley he’d come down, and every inch of his skin prickled like he’d been dragged through poison sumac.
Before his eyes could confirm what his inner radar reported, he shifted his defensive position to a dumpster at the far corner of the lot. Making sure he stayed out of sight, he was surprised by how calm he was.
Given that he’d been stalked.
Something was coming down the club’s flank, and it was looking for him. He just hadn’t sensed them before now—
Right as he was wondering if he needed to start shooting, a pair of headlights swung across the back of the club, and Evan went to ground to avoid the glare. After the blast of illumination passed him, the sedan he’d been waiting for parked in one of the two cleared-out spots.
As he noted the silver Mercedes S660 with its tinted windows, thesurge of triumph he felt was tempered by the reality that he was being hunted.
He glanced down the alley. The—vampire?—was coming closer. Meanwhile, no one was getting out of that luxury sedan.
Tick-tock.
Which was going to win—
His stalker passed by the door to the VIP section, and in the low glow of the light above it, the identity was confirmed, the scar on that face as obvious as the gun that was pointed in Evan’s direction, like the entity could see him.
Right on cue, just at the tipping point when Evan was going to be forced to pull his own trigger, three men got out of the long Mercedes.
It was his uncle’s lieutenants—the ones who had disrespected Evan last night. And Uncle had to be in that car, in the rear on the opposite side—
Incandescent rage overtook him, and before he could stop himself, he pointed his gun and shot in that direction.
With the suppressor on, there was just awhiff!sound, and then the driver of the car, his second cousin once removed, grabbed for his shoulder and looked confused.
Juiced with triumph, Evan started shooting repeatedly, hitting the men and the car, busting out safety glass, sparking the pavement, nailing the quarter panel and even one of the chromed-out mud flaps.
He didn’t care whether he actually got his uncle. He wanted chaos and fear for the whole organization.
And then he could come for Uncle.
As the lieutenants scrambled back into the car, and the Mercedes was thrown into reverse, those icy-white headlights slapped the back of the club as it spun its tires on the salt, got purchase, and wheeled around.
Just before it shot forward out of the lot, the vampire was spotlit like the felon he was, his gun down by his side, his face a mask of deadly composure as he measured the sedan and then looked in Evan’s direction.
Haul ass, Evan told himself.Fucking haul ass.
He took off from the club, linking up with the cross street behind the lot and sticking to the shadows. He made sure that his boots fell as quietly as he could make them, and avoided cans that would be noisy if they were kicked, and jumped over paper bags and frozen spray paint cans. The wind in his ears roared, but once again, his heart remained steady Freddie.
It wasn’t until he’d gone a good ten blocks that he slowed down and checked if there was anything in his wake.
There was not.
Wherever the vampire was, it wasn’t with him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The cookies turned out perfectly.
Then again, when chocolate chips and melting were involved, and your base was made out of butter and sugar, how badly could you go wrong? Nalla stayed all through the cleanup, too, working side by side with Rahvyn at the sink, the other female on washing, her on drying.
