Broken Page 72


I nodded. “If he’s working with Shanahan, he’d like nothing more than to go back to the hotel with us.”

“You think he’s full of shit, then?” Clay asked.

Jeremy shook his head. “I have no idea.”

“We could skip the wrap-up,” Clay said as he held open our hotel room door. “Let Jeremy bring the others up to date, while we get an early night.”

“No, I want to-” I stopped, seeing the bed across the room, so inviting, and feeling lead seep into my bones at the thought of heading out again. “Yes, I want to be there, but…sure, let’s call it a night. They don’t need-”

Clay had moved to the middle of the room, and was slowly turning, scanning the room, nostrils flaring. “Someone’s been here.” He strode to the work desk. “I left this drawer open when I grabbed my key card.”

He dropped to a crouch and inhaled. A pause and a frown, then another sniff, his head dipping almost to the carpet.

I walked over. “Maybe the maid service popped in-”

“Someone’s been here. I can’t smell anyone, but my papers-” He gestured at a stack of notes he’d brought on the trip. “Someone’s flipped through them, and straightened them up.”

I pulled open the dresser drawer I’d been using for my clothes. They were still haphazardly stuffed in, but the piles were separated, neater, as if someone had rifled through, and made some effort to cover his tracks.

I walked to the door, dropped to all fours and sniffed. I did the same at the connecting door into the next room.

“Our scents, and the cleaning woman’s from this morning. That’s it.”

As Clay did a quick check of the room, I picked up the phone and called Jeremy’s number. There was no answer. When I went to try Antonio’s room, Clay shook his head.

“I’ll find them.” He strode to the connecting door and opened it. “Nick?”

A muffled answer from the bathroom.

“When you’re done, get in here,” Clay called. “Stay with Elena for me.”

I grabbed the door from Clay. “Go on. I’ll wait in there.”

Clay left. I stepped into Nick’s room, then realized I had a call of nature of my own to answer. A word to Nick through the bathroom door, then back into our room.

The bathroom door was half-closed. Hadn’t I just watched Clay shove it open, glancing inside as he’d checked the room?

I crept closer to the door and inhaled. Nothing. Another step, and I could see into the bathroom. Empty and still no scent.

Okay, now I was getting paranoid.

I walked in, and pushed the bathroom door shut behind me. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a blur through the mirror. I started wheeling, fists flying up, but an invisible force hit me with awerewolf-strength uppercut to the jaw. As I fell, my head cracked against the toilet and I blacked out.

My eyelids fluttered, and I saw a figure hunched over me. I punched, but a hand closed around mine before I could make contact.

Still dazed, I struggled to get up and throw my attacker-

“Elena.”

That voice slapped me to my senses. I focused and saw Jeremy over me, his hand still gripping mine. Clay was behind me, cradling my head.

“What happ-?” I tried to jump up, but Jeremy’s grip held me back, letting me rise slowly until I was sitting on the bathroom floor.

“Someone hit-” I looked around. “Did you catch-?”

“He’s gone,” Jeremy said.

“I heard you yell,” Nick said from behind Jeremy. “I ran in here, but he was already in the hall. I took off after him, but all I saw was…I don’t know. Like a blur, I guess. I probably should’ve chased him but I was worried about you…”

“The right decision,” Jeremy said.

“Is there a trail?” I asked. “Maybe we can track-”

“No trail.” Antonio’s head popped through the bathroom doorway. “I checked to the elevator and the stairs. This floor is practically empty, and the only strong trails are ours.”

“No scents in here. No scents out there. That’s not possible-”

“Shanahan,” Clay said. “Potion or spell to cover his scent. A knockback spell to hit Elena. A blur spell to escape.”

“So he knows what we are. Damn it. But if he was here-either lying in wait for me or looking for the letter-I bet his zombies are nearby. And no potion or spell can cover their stink.”

I pushed my feet, wobbled for a second, then steadied myself.

“Can we Change?” I asked Jeremy.

He nodded.

We Changed inside an empty loading dock near the train tracks.

When I was done, I stuck my muzzle out and inhaled. An explosion of scent hit me, so complex and strong that I almost reeled back. Clay’s nose brushed my shoulder as he pushed out for a sniff of his own.

Cities smell foreign. There’s no better way to describe it. As a human, the smell of the city conjures up many emotions and connotations, some good, some bad, but all…normal.

As a wolf, though, I’m assaulted by a combination of incongruent scents. With the forest, I know what to expect-flora and fauna, all earthy, musky, natural smells. Here in one whiff, I picked up dirt and asphalt, mouse droppings and sewer gas, leaves and fresh paint, sweat and cologne, rotting roadkill and fresh cut fries. None of it seemed to fit together, but the incongruence, while jarring, was like a wonderful puzzle for my brain, picking apart the scents and trying to identify each.

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