up Hobbes from you.”
Which meant I wouldn’t be on my own for long, but something in his voice
triggered my internal warning system. It hit me I hadn’t asked what abilities Bishop and Wolf possessed. “What do you know that I don’t?”
Bishop didn’t pretend not to understand. “Nothing for sure, but I’ve got a bad
feeling.”
I choked back a nervous laugh. “Normally I’d ask if you were psychic but guess that’s a bit redundant.”
A soft chuckle accompanied Bishop’s, “That’s not my gift, but my gut’s
talking.”
And that was better than any psychic gift. Anytime a soldier’s gut started talking, you needed to pay close attention. More times than not, that was the only warning you got before things went from sugar to shit.
CHAPTER 17
R amirez led me out of the well-lit, populated areas and into the dark streets
that hid more than graffiti. We were only a couple of streets away from The Dragon, but here, the urban renewal was slow to encroach. Inky eyes of dark storefronts watched our game of cat and mouse, their entryways offering minor concealment. Sprinkled in between were the occasional boarded-up,
abandoned shops.
Following him became a test of nerves. He was definitely jumpy, every little
noise and flash of movement had him looking over his shoulder. Between his twitchy behavior and Bishop’s warning, some of Ramirez’s paranoia transferred
to me. My spine itched, but no matter how many times I checked my back trail,
it stayed clear.
Shadowing someone on a quiet city street was far from easy. Headlights from
passing traffic played havoc with my eyesight. Bass-heavy, tricked out cars kept
drawing Ramirez’s attention and interfering with my ability to stay off his radar.
I had to skirt the occasional cardboard home and watch where I stepped so I wouldn’t injure myself. By the time Ramirez ducked under a flimsy excuse for a
fence, sweat coated my spine, and not just from the heat. Although it was now
well after nine at night the temperature still hovered in the nineties.
When he disappeared into the weed-choked lot, I picked up my pace and
crossed the street. I stood on the cracked sidewalk and studied the narrow area
between the buildings. A tall, looming shadow filled the space. Streetlights couldn’t hold the darkness at bay, but I could make out the boards haphazardly
covering what were once windows. Large signs ringed the lower half of the two-story structure and proclaimed penalties for trespassing. Someone even added a
few lines of spiked wire and metal rods.
It wasn’t much of a deterrent. Ramirez was already inside. It took me a few,
but I finally managed to bypass the half-ass security. When one of those barbs left a painful scratch along my shoulder, I muffled my soft curse and poked at the tear in my shirt.
Kayden’s voice filled my ear. “Where are you?”
I worked my way around the side of the building, my progress accompanied
by the overly loud insect choir. “Between First and Central on Monroe. Ramirez
just disappeared inside an abandoned building.”
“Hobbes just paid his check, I’ll meet up with you.”
“No.” I spotted a gaping hole in the far back corner. “Delacourt’s orders were
to stay on him, so stay. I’m fine.”
There was a pause and when Kayden spoke, he didn’t sound happy. “And if
that changes?”
“It changes,” I shot back.
