Licking my lips, I darted around the pedestrians on the sidewalk. Nice, law-abiding citizens pulled out of my path with cries of dismay. I didn't care if I frightened them or why. Maybe it was the sight of an Eljaffna coming down from a feeding, cleaning his lips and fangs. Or maybe it was the look in my eyes. Perhaps it was the fact that I was running down a city sidewalk like a madman. It didn't matter. I ran for them. For their safety. They'd never thank me, but that didn't matter either. All that mattered was that fucking stench.
Noises came from behind me. The King throwing a fit. Fuck him. He was getting my way. My destination was only a block ahead. I kept running.
Horses neighed. The clatter of wheels came. I kept running.
A shout. Terrible words flung after me. I kept running.
There. I darted around a corner and finally paused.
The Leather District.
I breathed in deeply. The odor came from me alone. Most tanners would keep their supplies in a back room so as not to offend their customers. The ammonia and hydrogen sulfide I smelled weren't tanning supplies. Merely the byproducts of tanning—gases released during the process. The toxic, unavoidable result of turning an animal's skin into leather. To either side of me were leather shops. They stretched a good two blocks. But I wouldn't have to search all of them. Just the ones owned by Brujai.
“Pardon me.” I stopped a Brujai man who was strolling down the sidewalk toward me.
He glanced at me, then again, focusing on my badge. “Yes, Claw-Sir?”
“Do you know which of these leather shops are owned by Brujai?”
“Damn you, Tekhan!” someone roared behind me.
Yes, someone. I didn't recognize the King's voice at first. It was so saturated with rage. But I saw the recognition and horror on the Brujai's face.
“No, don't—” I reached for him.
He ran.
“—run,” I finished and then swung toward the Dragon King with a snarl.
King Tor'rien, who'd been snarling himself, stopped short when he saw my face. He lost some of his bluster, pausing just a foot away from me. To his left was the royal carriage.
“Gods damn it!” I growled and pointed at the carriage driver. “Turn around now! I need you gone. Do you fucking hear me? And you!” I pointed at the King. “Get in there and go away! You are interfering with an active investigation.”
The King gaped at me. Then his expression went feral.
So far, King Tor'rien had tolerated, even encouraged my irreverence. But I had pushed him too far. In his weakened state, he didn't have the strength to hold back his fury. At least, this was the conclusion I came to as he launched himself at me.
The Dragon King grabbed my shirtfront and hauled me to him as he bent his head to growl, “You will not speak to me like that ever again, Claw Shinkai.”
I jerked out of his grip, startling him. “What happened to your appreciation of my candor?”
“I said it was acceptable as long as you were also respectful. You are not being respectful.”
I waved his anger away. “I have evidence that needs to be acted on immediately.”
The King blinked. “Evidence? What evidence?”
“Smell me.”
His face went slack. “Pardon?”
“I said, smell me!” I pulled out my shirt, lifting the portion shredded by the Brujai's claws.
Frowning, the King bent his head and sniffed. Then he jerked back, his nose wrinkling. “Fuck. How did I not notice that earlier?”
“We were a little distracted,” I muttered. “Now, you understand why I need you to leave.”
“Do I?”
