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“SIU, gentlemen. Get the hell back!”

With reluctance, they complied. At least initially. She had no doubt they’d follow—just a lot less obviously. That was another thing she’d learned over the years—the press and a good story weren’t easily separated.

And there was a hell of a good story here—one she wanted uncovered as much as they did.

She ran onto Little Bourke Street, heading for the alley behind the cafés. The nearby streetlight flickered off and on, briefly illuminating the broken asphalt and grimy puddles of water that littered the alley’s mouth. She slowed. The perfume of rotting rubbish, urine and water long gone stale rose to greet her, and she wrinkled her nose. So much for the hope that she’d left places like this behind when she’d become a spook.

The alley ran behind half a dozen shops, and rubbish bins lined the rear fences, most of them either overflowing or overturned. At the far end, huddled in the rear entrance of a building, was a sticklike mass of gray hair and stained clothing. He whispered obscenities to the wind, his voice harsh, strained, as he gestured wildly at the night.

A drunk, not the shifter who’d attacked Wetherton.

She holstered the laser and climbed the old wooden fence. Once on the other side, she hesitated, listening. Lights glowed from the back windows of the café. People talked, a distant sound of confusion and concern that meshed perfectly with her emotions.

She looked up. The shifter was still up on the roof. His evil rode the air as easily as the wind stirred her hair.

Why hadn’t he run? What was he waiting for?

Her.

A chill raced down her spine. It was ludicrous, it truly was, and yet the thought—or rather, the certainty—that it was true was absolute.

And yet, she was here by chance, by whim. How could anyone be so certain of her actions that he would know where she’d be at any given moment? It was impossible.

Though not, perhaps, for the man who shared her dreams and her thoughts.

And perhaps it wasn’t even beyond the capacity of her makers, whoever they might be. Who really knew? Not her, that was for sure.

She rubbed her arms, but it did little to erase the cold sensation of dread running through her.

One problem at a time, she thought, and headed resolutely for the fire escape. Her footsteps echoed on the old metal stairs as she began to climb—a loud warning of her approach. Yet no sound greeted her appearance on the roof. No movement. She frowned, not liking the feel of it.

A billboard dominated the concrete expanse. Spotlights lined its base, their brightness aimed upward, leaving the rest of the rooftop a wasteland of shadows. A big old air-con unit rattled to her left. The awareness trembling across her skin suggested that the shifter hid behind it.

She raised her laser. “SIU. Drop your weapon and then come out with your hands up.”

The man hiding in the shadows didn’t respond. On the street below, the wailing sirens abruptly stopped. Flashes of red and blue light ran across the darkness, splashing color across the glass-walled office building opposite. Almost normal sights and sounds in a night that felt anything but normal.

She forced her attention back to the air-con unit and the man who hid behind it. “I repeat, this is the SIU. I know you’re there. Drop your weapon and come out.”

Still no response. She stepped onto the rooftop and edged forward. Underneath the sigh of the wind, she could hear the shifter. If the easy rhythm of his breathing was anything to go by, he wasn’t worried by her presence.

She fired a warning shot. The blue beam flew across the darkness and hit the edge of the air-con unit. Metal sheared away in a jagged cut whose edges glowed with heat.

Still nothing. He didn’t move. Didn’t twitch. She frowned and moved closer. She’d almost reached the right edge of the unit when he exploded forward, his body little more than a shadowed blur as he sprinted across the roof.

He was too fast for a shifter; his speed was more like a vampire’s.

She was nowhere near that fast—a tortoise compared to the hare. But she ran after him anyway. If nothing else, she could track him with her senses until someone from the SIU got here to help her.

Speaking of which, where the fuck were they? This was Stephan’s baby, his master plan, so why the hell didn’t he have backup here already?

Or was this all part of a wider scheme—a scheme she knew nothing about?

No. Whatever was going on here, with this shifter, it had nothing to do with Stephan or the SIU. She was sure of that, if nothing else. But right now, she had no time to worry about it. The shifter leapt across to the next rooftop and ran on. His body faded in and out of existence as he moved, almost as if he were an image viewed through some badly focused lens. Weird.

She jumped the small dividing wall, then went down on one knee and sighted the laser. “Last warning. Stop or I’ll shoot.”

His only response was a fresh burst of speed. As he became little more than a shadowed blur, she fired.

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