“Grim,” I rasp.
“We’ve got a runner,” Sally from the office tells me. “He’s big and aggressive. He’s also overdue as of this morning. You need to go after him right away.”
My dragon perks up for half a second. I perk up a whole damned lot. Finally, some action.
“Send me the details.”
“Already done.”
The call ends, and within seconds, my phone buzzes with incoming information. A picture loads on my screen of a big male shifter with long, blond hair and gray eyes. Mean-looking bastard. I also get the coordinates of his last known location.
Falkor returns with a coat slung over his arm.
“Something’s come up,” I tell him, already moving toward my SUV. “Something important that can’t wait. I’ll be back to collect you a little later. You sit tight.”
His face falls, but he nods. “I’ll be waiting. I promise I’m not going anywhere.”
“Good.” I’m already jogging to my vehicle.
I head out, gravel spraying, and point the SUV toward the city. The information sent to me tells me everything I need to know about my target.
His name is Kaine. He’s thirty-two. He’s received multiple warnings for being late for his vaccination in the past. The male is known to be hostile and uncooperative. When last seen earlier today, he was wearing a dark blue tank top and gray shorts.
The drive takes all of ten minutes, and I spend most of it weaving through traffic. My dragon has gone from barely there to riding me hard, wanting out, wanting to hunt. I keep him leashed.
It’s how it has been since she fucked us up.
He’s either absent or angry as all hell.
It’s getting harder and harder to reach him, but when he wants out, it’s getting more difficult to contain him.
I have to, because an illegal shift would see me thrown in jail. I’d lose my job. It would fuck things up for me.
When I reach the asshole’s last known location, namely a busy street corner near the market district, I park and jump out. The city is alive with activity, shifters and humans alike moving through their day.
I stop a female shifter who’s browsing a fruit stand.
“Excuse me.” I show her the picture. “Have you seen this male? He’s big, with blond hair, wearing a dark blue tank top.”
She squints at the phone, then shakes her head. “Sorry, no.”
I move on. A shopkeeper barely glances at the picture before waving me off. A street vendor gives it more attention but comes up empty. A kid selling newspapers hasn’t seen him either.
I’m about to move to the next block when an elderly male shifter sitting on a bench outside a coffee shop waves me over.
“You looking for someone?” he calls out. “I heard you talking to that lady.”
I approach him, hope sparking despite myself.
“Yeah. Have you seen this guy?” I show him Kaine’s picture.
The old shifter nods. “Yep. He’s a big blond fellow. Mean-looking and a serious troublemaker. Yeah, he was here maybe ten minutes ago.” He points down the street. “Stopped right over there at that newspaper stand. Got real aggressive with the owner about something. Grabbed one of the papers, crumpled it up, and threw it on the ground. Then stormed off that way.” He gestures toward the older part of the market district.
“Thanks,” I tell him, already moving.
Sure enough, there’s a crumpled newspaper lying in the gutter beside the stand. I crouch down and pick it up. I uncrumple the newspaper. On the front page is a large advertput out by the Mainland Health Department reminding shifters not to be late for their annual appointment. It highlights the dangers of an outbreak of Hemorrhagic Fever.
I’m pretty sure it was Kaine, alright. I lift the paper to my nose and lock onto the scent.
