"Henry's checking the traffic and security cameras around the area now."
"Henry, hurry."
"I am, boss, believe me."
Eryn kept her eye on the screen, watching the people come and go. Grey wasn't among them—or was he? As a face shifter, he could assume the shape of any male he touched.
He could be the smart-looking black dude moseying out the store right now with his hands filled with grocery bags. Or he could be the gray-haired old man trying to hide the bottle of whisky from his quick-stepping wife.
Her gaze went to the shabby-looking man currently walking though the doors. He carried several bottles of beer, and his thin lips were pursed, as if whistling. Like the others, the body shape was about right, though he looked nothing like Grey. Didn't even walk like him.
Yet she knew, without a doubt, that it was him. How, she couldn't really explain, except to say that something deep inside twitched in recognition.
"There he is," she said, pointing at the fast disappearing figure. "You'd better get someone into the store and check the men's room. I bet he's knocked someone out and taken their clothes."
Jack didn't waste any time refuting her certainty. "Henry, get the cameras on him. Bob, contact our eye and advise him of Grey's change of appearance. And get someone to check the store out." Jack glanced at her. "You want to stick around in case we lose him again?"
She nodded. Going home while it was pouring rain held no appeal. She didn't have a car and would have to hike several blocks to the subway. And while Jack would undoubtedly arrange a car for her, home didn't have the appeal of sitting here and watching Grey.
Leaning back in her chair, she kicked off her shoes and rested her feet on the corner of the table. "I bet you twenty bucks he'll attempt another changeover in the next ten minutes."
Jack handed her a full coffee mug that had seen better days. "No bet. Henry, make sure you don't lose him."
"We won't."
But after ten minutes of watching, they did. Only Grey didn't go into another store and change form. He simply cut through a tree-filled park, moving beyond the range of the security cameras and their eye in the sky for all of one minute. But one minute was all it took.
Jack swore, and threw down his ear mike in disgust.
"There goes our only chance to discover where he lived."
"He'll be back tomorrow night."
Jack glanced at her. "If he knew he was being followed, he might just cut his losses and run."
"He's not your killer. And he'll be back."
"You seem awfully certain of that."
"I am. He's after the killer, same as we are." Only she suspected Grey had no intention of arresting the killer and seeing him brought to trial. No, Grey had something far more permanent in mind.
She sipped her coffee and tried to ignore the chill running down her spine. It was a chill that had nothing to do with the fact that she was lusting after a man who was, by training, a killer, but rather the fact that she kept getting these strange little insights and certainties about a man she only knew sexually.
"So," she added, lifting her feet off the table, "we here again tonight?"
Jack nodded. "Approval's been given. Hopefully Gantry will make an appearance tonight."
"It's not Gantry."
"And you know this because…?"
"I smelled that smell in the club tonight. It couldn't have been Gantry because he wasn't there."
He gave her a long look. "And you were intending to mention this when?"
"When I remembered it, which I just did." She shrugged an apology. "Trouble is, it was coming from a booth two women were sitting in."
"Which could mean one of those two women has already met the killer."
Especially since both women looked like the type the killer went after. "Might be worth putting a trace on them."
"Which booth were they in?"
"The same one Grey was sitting in earlier. Both women had dark hair. One was in green, the other red."
Jack grunted as he wrote down the information. "We'll grab their pics from the security cams. You want a ride home?"
She hesitated, listening. The rain no longer pounded the van's roof, though the vehicle still trembled under the assault of the wind. She shook her head. "No, I like walking through predawn hours like this. Everything smells so fresh, so new."
"Only a shifter would say something inane like that. The rest of us would be happy to catch a lift so we could get home to the warmth of our beds."
She would have been happy to catch a lift, too, if there'd been someone home to warm her bed. But after too many nights of going to bed alone, and too many mornings of waking alone, she had to catch her pleasures where she could. And there was something delicious about walking through the wet hours just before dawn, especially when the rest of the city had yet to stir.
She finished her coffee and placed the cup on the table.
"Same bat time?"
Jack nodded and held out a hand. "Ear pieces."
She undid them both and dropped them into his palm.
"You and the boys planning to stick around here?"
He glanced at his watch, then nodded. "Changeover is at six."
"Do you really think watching the bar's security cams day and night is going to magically catch the killer?"
He shrugged. "Right now, we've got nothing else. Not unless your nose picks up something, anyway."
"Even a hound has to have a scent to follow. And my nose certainly didn't prove much of a help tonight."
"If you caught the scent once, you'll catch it again. Give it time, Eryn."
Time was the one thing they didn't have much of, because the countdown had begun. The killer was killing a woman every four days. The four-day deadline was up tomorrow… today, she silently amended. But everyone in the van was more than aware of that fact.
"See you tonight."
He nodded and turned back to the screen. She grabbed her coat, pulling it on as she opened the door and stepped into the crisp morning. She took a moment to breathe deep, enjoying the sensation of air so fresh that it was filled with nothing more than the sharp aroma of the passing storm and the warm tang of wet concrete. It wouldn't stay that way for long—even now, the city was stirring. Soon the fumes of cars and factories and life would belch into the air, and this brief moment of revival would be lost for another day.
God, how sad was her life that reveling in a wet dawn was getting to be a high point?
She smiled wryly and shoved her hands into her pockets.
Truth was, until this assignment, she hadn't exactly realized how stale her life had become. Yeah, she loved her job, and hell, she loved sunrises, but there was more to life than that.
And it was about time she started exploring other avenues of enjoyment.
Like Grey.
She bit her lip and stepped out from the van's cover. The wind blew her hair in a hundred different directions, and her ears, which were oversensitive at the best of times, became chilled. She reached back, snagging the jacket's hood, tugging it over her head and tightening the draw strings.
What good did it do her lusting after Grey? While she couldn't guess at his reasons for bedding the victims, she was positive about one thing. He was here for one reason only—to hunt down a killer. A relationship of any kind was not on his agenda.
Which was a damn shame, because the connection that had formed between them in such a brief amount of time suggested even a casual relationship could be a mind-blowing experience.
Still, she at least had the promise of tonight to look forward to.
She splashed across the road, leapt the pool of water gathering around the drain, then continued on towards the subway. Another good thing about traveling at this hour was the lack of people on the trains. Though few people didn't necessarily equate to no aromas. She screwed up her nose, trying to ignore the stale scent of sweat and humanity and old perfume as she traveled the three stops to the station closest to her apartment.