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“Nothing,” said Levi, breathing hard. “Where else would she have placed the bomb? Or is there some chance the demon was just fucking with us? Because, honestly, I don’t even know why Muriel would bother planting one here. It’s not the original building.”

“I didn’t get the feeling that the demon was playing a game with us,” said Knox. “But yes, it’s possible that it was lying. Still, we need to be certain. We have to keep looking.”

Tanner squared his shoulders. “I can find the bomb. I just need to follow her scent trail to see where else in the building she’s been. If there’s a bomb here, I’ll locate it.”

Knox gave a sharp nod. “Do it.”

Planting his feet, Tanner rolled his shoulders and closed his eyes. Latching onto Muriel’s scent, he stripped it of the hairspray, perfume, and other smells that tainted it; needing it in its purest form. Frosted cherries and cream.

His eyes flipped open. “Got it.” The call of the hunt trickled through his veins, pounded in his blood, wrapped around his bones, and filled every part of him all the way to his fingertips and toes.

With his demon close to the surface, Tanner followed Muriel’s scent out of the room and down the hallway, aware that Knox and Levi were following him. Adrenaline pumped through him, sharpening his senses, readying him for action.

Tanner cursed as they reached the bank of elevators. “We’re going to have to pause at every floor so I can step out and test the air for her scent.” And since there were eighteen floors, that was going to be a motherfucking bitch.

“Then that’s what we’ll do,” said Knox, jabbing the down button. “There are two floors above this, but that’s where the luxury rooms are located. Guests who are staying up there need to insert their keycard in the elevator panel before pushing the buttons for those floors or the elevator simply won’t take them up. That means Muriel could only have gone down, so we only need to check the fifteen floors below us.”

Well that was something.

The silver, metal doors opened with a chime, and the three of them stepped inside the empty elevator. With the call of the hunt still nagging him to move, move, move, Tanner jabbed the button for floor fifteen. He blocked out the soft music and hum of machinery, keeping a tight hold on Muriel’s scent. When the doors slid open, Tanner stepped out and breathed in deeply. “Nothing. She didn’t stop here.”

They stopped at floor fourteen. Still nothing. Then thirteen. Still nothing. And on and on it went. As the building had been evacuated, there were no guests trying to join them in the elevator, so Tanner was free to concentrate solely on his task.

Finally, they reached the ground floor. Tanner stepped out and inhaled deeply. Frosted cherries and cream. “Here. She stopped here.”

“Either that or this leads outside—you could be simply following the trail she left on entering the building,” Levi pointed out.

“Only one way to know for sure.” Tanner latched onto the scent again and followed it, prowling through the lobby. He halted, because there were two threads of Muriel’s scent. One led to the reception area, but it was faint. The other thread was fresher, and it seemed to head in a whole other direction.

Honing his senses on the fresher thread, Tanner stalked out of the lobby, passing the sitting area, bar, gift shop … and walked right into a small café.

Dozens of distracting scents assaulted him. Fresh-brewed coffee. Ground beans. Baked goods. Orange juice. Chocolate. Vanilla. Cinnamon. Herbal tea. Tomato soup. Sweet desserts—it went on and on.

A sharp pain struck him right between his eyebrows that felt much like brain-freeze. A pain he wouldn’t have felt if he hadn’t been extending his sense of smell so much. It was like when you strained to hear something, and then a loud noise came at you from nowhere and hurt your ears.

Tanner shook his head. “I think she came in here hoping I’d lose her scent.”

“Have you?” asked Knox.

“Yes. But I’ll find it again.” He was a fucking alpha hellhound, for Christ’s sake.

Closing his eyes, Tanner dragged the surrounding scents into his lungs, filtering through the café-scents in addition to the perfume, cologne, hairspray, lemon cleaner, air conditioning, fresh flowers—

Frosted cherries and cream. Tanner opened his eyes. “I’ve got her.”

He clung to the scent with metaphorical hands and followed it out of the café, passing the restaurant and conference room, before turning down a carpeted hallway where the scent became stronger.

Blood buzzing with the thrill that always came with being close to his prey—whether it be a person or object—Tanner quickened his pace, following the trail to the end of the hallway. He shoved open the fire exit door and found himself in a stairwell.

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