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My heart skipped several beats. “You’ve found the missing man behind the consortium?”
“Nope.”
“You’ve discovered who our mystery man known only as Harlen really is?”
“Remember, I used the word minor,” he said drily. “So no.”
“Then what?”
“Remember that rat-faced guy you were looking for? The one who delivered the Dušan’s book and the first letter from your father?”
“You’ve discovered who he is?”
“Better than that. I know where you can find him. And he’s there right now if you want to talk to him.”
Chapter Eight
THE CAB PULLED UP SEVERAL DOORS DOWN FROM the run-down building. I paid the driver and climbed out,
the wind snatching my coat ends and flinging them backward. I shivered and zipped it up, shoving my hands into my pocket as I studied the building.
According to Stane, this area had recently been rezoned from industrial to residential, but the demolition teams had yet to move in. As a result, the city’s homeless had taken up residence.
The building the rat-faced courier had entered was a quaint two-story brown-brick building sandwiched between two bigger warehouses. Large windows looked out onto the street but there was little chance of anyone seeing me standing here, as somewhat grimy blinds had been drawn down in all of them.
“These are the premises we seek?” Azriel said softly.
I nodded. “Stane couldn’t give us his name, but thanks to the traffic cams down the road, he spotted our rat-faced shifter enter here forty-five minutes ago. He hasn’t come out.”
“Then let us go in and find him.” He drew his sword. Valdis gleamed brightly in the dull afternoon light.
“You do realize we can’t kill him?” I commented as we crossed the road.
Azriel looked at me. “You seem to be of the opinion that I enjoy shedding blood.”
“I am of the opinion that you’ll do whatever is necessary to complete your mission. And if that means killing, then yeah.”
“I cannot kill if it is not warranted—something you’ve been told several times.”
Then he pushed the door open and stepped through, Valdis’s fire imparting an eerie glow to the shadow-filled hallway.
His gaze swept the immediate vicinity, then he looked up. “There are three people upstairs, five people on this level, and one downstairs, in the basement.”
“If he’s a rat shifter, he’s probably the one in the basement.”
He nodded and advanced. I followed, sorting through the scents that filled this place as I did. It smelled of age, refuse, and unwashed humanity. I couldn’t sense a shifter, but if he was down in the basement, then maybe the heavier aromas of oil and machinery were masking his scent.
No one came out to see who we were, although I did hear several movements. Maybe the homeless feared we were the police, sent to roust them out of their free lodging.
The stairs loomed out of the shadows. Valdis’s light died, although if the man we were hunting was a shifter, then he’d smell and hear us coming long before the sword’s brightness could announce us.
Azriel led the way down into the deeper darkness. I kept close to his back, the heat of him washing across my body and somehow making me feel more secure. When we hit the end of the stairs, the darkness became so complete I was virtually blind. I touched Azriel’s shoulder, not wanting to lose him as we continued on.
Gossamer brushed across my face and I bit back my squeak of fright. A web—sans spider, hopefully, I thought with a shudder. Critters that possessed eight legs were definitely not on my favorites list.
Our quarry is on the move, Azriel said, his words warm as they whispered into my brain.
Stop laughing at my phobia. I might not be telepathic, but that apparently didn’t stop him from hearing my thoughts loud and clear.
