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He had an oversized black hoodie on him, and as soon as he made it to the sidewalk, he pulled up his hoodie, covering half his face, stuck his hands in his dark wash jeans, and started walking east.
My heart was already slamming against my chest by the time I got out of the car, made sure I had my gun in my holster on the right side of my hips, and rushed to get to the other side of the street.
It was him. Even though I couldn’t see his face anymore, it washim. Even though I was terrible with names, I never forgot a face. And he had been there last night. He knew about Crackdown and who those other guys had been and where I could find them.
Finally.Those hours waiting by myself in the car were paying off.
The guy walked fast, shoulders hunched and head down, and he kept on going straight, never turning back. At first I rushed to get as close to him as I could without looking suspicious, and then I slowed down keeping the same pace as him, right hand close to my holster, just in case. If he made a move, I’d shoot him in the leg and take him in. He was the best lead I had, the only one who could point me in the right direction—for now, at least.
I regretted not having called Hunter to come join me now, but it was too late. I didn’t actually think I’d find anything today, but I wasn’t complaining. Wherever this guy was going, even if he walked all the way across the City, I was going to stick to him until I saw my chance.
While I walked, I sent a quick text to Hunter so that he knew where I was and what I was doing. Just in case. You never knew what could happen, who this guy was going to meet, if I could take them all by myself. And if I needed backup, Hunter would have them ready for me.
Got it. Tracking your phone,he texted back the next minute, and I was already feeling better.
The guy kept on going, faster by the second, but I had no trouble keeping up. The adrenaline had my blood rushing.
Until he turned his head back abruptly, as if he knew exactly that I was ten feet away from him, and his eyes met mine.
I stopped walking. He stopped walking. We stared at each other for a short second before my hand closed around the grip of my gun.
“Stop!” I shouted. He turned around, pulling his hoodie down, and started running.
I ran after him, gun in hand, while the people walking the street noticed and stepped to the side, leaving way for me to pass through. My eyes were on the back of the guy’s head, and I didn’t dare even blink for fear he’d disappear into thin air. I breathed heavily and my heart was galloping in my chest, but the excitement felt mighty fine, too. Even my magic reacted to it, coming alive inside me, making my skin tingle a little bit. I was starting to understand it a bit better now that I was actually doing something other than sitting behind a desk all day. I was starting to see that it responded to my emotions, not mywill, the way all pixie magic did and the way I was taught to try to control it my whole life. My will was never enough. Picturing things was never enough—but intense emotions? That seemed to do the trick.
Right now, there were too many people around us, probably all human. I’d have wanted nothing more than to test how far I could throw my magic, how much damage I could do with it now that it felt like a living thing under my skin, but it was too risky. Somebody could get hurt, not to mention all the work the repair crew would have to do on all these people to wipe out their memories. Too much risk, so I settled for running.
The asshole was fast. He kept crossing the street, moving in front of passing cars like he was hoping that would stop me, but it didn’t. Even if I got run over, I was not going to let him get away. It was my only chance—myfastestchance to getting an answer, and I’d be damned if I didn’t get it today.
At least ten minutes must have passed while we ran, deeper and deeper into the streets. Sweat trickled down my back and my hairline, and my palms were sweaty, too. My muscles screamed every time my feet hit the asphalt, but at least the guy had slowed down, too. When he disappeared from my view, I thought maybe he stepped into the street to cross to the other side again, hoping to lose me like that, but no. He’d disappeared to the other side, in an alley between two buildings. By the time I got to the mouth of it, he was already in the middle.
And nobody else was walking the narrow alley right now.
“Freeze!” I shouted and aimed my gun at the brick wall of the building to my right before I pulled the trigger. The sound of the gunshot scared him much more than I’d hoped. He jumped, wrapping his arms around his head, and I shot the gun at the wall another time to make him jump again. The guy must have been just as tired as me because he tripped on his own feet and hit the dirty asphalt of the alley with his face.
I kept on going, even though I still didn’t know if he had any weapons on him or even what he was. What his magic could do to me. But I was too excited to slow down, so I didn’t until I had my knee between his shoulder blades, and he had his hands over his head still.
“Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot!” he kept yelling, and for whatever reason, I had a big smile on my face, though I was sweating so much my shirt was sticking to my back uncomfortably. My hands didn’t shake when I put my gun in my holster and grabbed his to cuff him. That he hadn’t attacked me with his magic yet could mean two things—either he was human or it was too weak to rely on it…kinda like me. When I called Hunter to send a patrol car to pick him up, I was still expecting the guy to attack me, to say anything other thanI didn’t do anything wrong,just so I could test my magic on him. Right now would be the best time, and I didn’t even know when I’d gotten so thirsty to use magic—Ineverwas—but I didn’t question it.
Still, the guy didn’t give me a reason. He lay there on the dirty asphalt of the alley with his hands cuffed behind his back while I stood by his head, gun in my hand, waiting for him to make a move.
It was okay, though. I’d caught him. Now, as soon as he gave me some answers, therealwork would begin.
ChapterEight
The interrogation room was spacious,the ventilation system much more functional here than it was at the main office where my desk was. Sometimes it got really hard to breathe in there, especially when most agents were sitting at their desks, but in here, it was quiet. The air was fresh, a bit cold. The adrenaline had faded from my body on the ride back to Headquarters, and the crash had my hands shaking a little bit, but my mind was as focused as ever when I sat in front of Michael Sullivan with a folder in my hands. Hunter sat on my right, and agent McKinley on the other—the only satyr at the ODP that didn’t work for the repair crew. That’s because beyond just feeding on memories, he had an incredible sense of separating lies from truths, and so he participated in interrogations most of the time. I’d heard a lot about him, but this was the first time that I was actually working with him. Though he wore black trousers, and he used magic to shield his horns and his goat legs, knowing what he was made it really easy to imagine him in his true form. Still, his brown eyes were warm, his smile genuine, and he was really easy to talk to. I felt perfectly comfortable with him…until Michael started talking.
“I don’t know anything,” he said, over and over again, shaking his head every few seconds. His hands were cuffed to the chain coming out of the middle of the metal table, but so far he hadn’t even made an attempt at breaking through—or using his magic. His records claimed he was a dryad, a forest nymph. Their magic wasn’t any stronger than a pixie’s, but it could have given him a hand to at least attempt to get away from me earlier today, yet he hadn’t lifted a finger to use it.
Maybe because hecouldn’t?
“Mr. Sullivan,” I said, meeting his wide eyes, the white of them almost completely red.
“Didn’t you hear me? I don’t know anything,” he repeated, but at least he wasn’t shaking his head anymore.
“Yes, I heard you. I just have a few questions for you, okay? Try to relax. It’ll be over in no time.”
I looked at agent McKinley for a moment. He never moved his eyes from Michael, but he did shake his head once curtly. Just like I suspected—Michael Sullivan wasnottelling the truth.
