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If it was for his work, though…

It was a possibility.

She actually knew a few of his team due to them making use of her sanctuary, and she could definitely see Trent or Hector being happy to write terrible emails on the Agency’s time. Though she also knew that they would have serious reservations about taking any sort of action against her… and, in her heart, she knew that Robb would, too.

Maybe he was here to warn her about something. Maybe his superiors had asked him to hunt her down, and he was giving her an opportunity to run before he started the official chase. Not that she would ever run – not if it meant abandoning her sanctuary. Maybe –

Maybe, said the brolga with an enormous, wing-fluttering sigh, you should just ask him.

That’s easy for you to say, she muttered – but she knew it was right. They couldn’t just stand here in the alley staring at each other until they died of hypothermia… especially since, as shifters, that would take a really, really long time.

Tahnee opened her mouth, not quite sure what would come out of it –

And almost gagged as a sickly-sweet smell rushed through her sinuses and down her throat, like someone had concentrated all the world’s musk sticks and lolly bananas into one horrendous, inescapable miasma.

“Robb –” she managed to gasp out, although, she had to admit, it probably came out more like rgaggh.

Poison! the brolga screeched, flapping madly.

No shit! Tahnee yelled back, clutching at her throat. Looking up through her streaming eyes, she managed to spot Robb staggering almost to his knees, one arm sagging at his side while the other struggled to prop him up against the filthy alley wall. Yellow mist tumbled and billowed along the length of the alley, casting everything in an eerie glow – and, apparently, a lung-searing stench.

Tahnee’s vision swam. Even though she knew that, reasonably, Robb couldn’t be all that far from her, he seemed very, very distant.

Tunnel vision, Tahnee thought vaguely. If I don’t get out of here, I’m going to pass out.

Shift! the brolga insisted, trying to force Tahnee to shift through sheer force of will. Take wing, and rescue our mate!

Struggling to stay in control of her own body even as she gasped for breath, Tahnee shook her head vehemently. There was no way that a brolga could carry a grown man to safety, even with shifter strength and fear for one’s mate factored in. Throw in the fact that she was literally breathing in poison, and it was a complete impossibility. It was just pointless to even contemplate.

But the mist is only a little above head height. Maybe… maybe if I shift and fly up above it, I can at least catch my breath and formulate an escape plan, she thought desperately, even as she cursed herself for having let her guard down. She’d come here to find out who had sent that email to her private address, and she’d been distracted the moment she’d seen Robb, looking all dapper and handsome.

Robb.

The mist was now so thick that she could barely see him, pooling around him at the spot where the laneway dog-legged, thick and yellow and cloying. But she could just see his outline, and he was not doing well.

I’m so sorry, Robb, she thought, trying to send a feeling of reassurance to him through the mate bond as she prepared to shift into her brolga form and launch into the air. She had no idea if the two of them had the quasi-telepathy that mates usually shared – she’d done her utmost to sever any kind of connection they had, and she was sure he would’ve done the same. I’ll be back with help – or something – as soon as I can, I promise.

Bracing herself, she bent her knees, and took off.

Or, at least, that had been the plan.

What the fuck?! she thought desperately, as her feet remained firmly planted on the ground, her body stubbornly staying in human form. Is that what this gas does? It keeps you from shifting?!

She tried again – but, nothing.

I’m going to be human forever? the brolga cried, aghast.

Neither of us are going to be much of anything for long if we don’t figure out how to deal with this! Tahnee shot back.

She could probably manage to stagger out the end of the alley – it was only about ten meters away, and presumably the mist would disperse somewhat after that. If the effects cleared quickly, she could clear her head and work out what to do next.

If all else failed, she could call the cops – or, she supposed, the Agency. She’d never had any real contact with them, her history with Robb aside, but every shifter knew they existed. As much as the idea chafed at her, she knew that they would be the best people to call.

And she knew that someone was going to call the regular cops sooner or later – there was no way that a yellow mist that smelt like the world’s most rancid lolly factory would escape people’s notice for long. Better to have the Agency deal with it first.

Wheezing, she turned around and staggered toward the main street. The mist was starting to thin out a little as it got battered about by the driving rain and the wind that was now whipping through the alley, and she dragged in a grateful lungful of semi-clean air. The urge to look over her shoulder at Robb was almost unbearable, but she had to get out of there and regain her strength.

She gritted her teeth.