"No, she left off that part. Left off a lot of parts, I'm sure."
"Well, I had to kill some. The rats. Squashed their poor little skulls with a two-by-four and I know payback's coming. Bad karma for the rodent slayer. They can probably sense-" I stopped. "Jeremy?"
"Hmmm?"
"Something brushed my foot. Something furry."
"Don't worry. It was dead."
"Dead?"
"I smelled it, but thought it best not to mention it and hope you passed by."
"Preferably without stepping on it?"
"I'll warn you next time. It can be hard to pinpoint the exact spot, though. The best I can do is say, 'By the way, there's a rotting corpse around here somewhere.' "
"On second thought, ignorance is bliss. So where-?" I stopped as an overpowering stench filled my nose. "Oh, God, I think I smell a ripe one."
"No, that's just the nest."
"N-nest?"
"It's down a side corridor, I think. We'll be past it in a moment. They shouldn't give us any trouble."
"Right. The predator thing. Like the cat. They smell you and run."
"Hmmm."
Not a terribly reassuring response. Elena had told me before that werewolves confuse other animals, that mix of wolf and human and, when confused and faced with a larger potential predator, they run. We'd had problems with the rats in Toronto only because they'd been infected and acting irrationally.
The chattering grew louder as the smell got worse. Mud oozed between my toes. And if it wasn't mud, I didn't want to know about it. I stepped on something that crackled under my toes, hard and thin like twigs… or bones.
"Almost past," Jeremy whispered. "When we reach the entrance to the nest, I'm going to stop and swing you by. All right?"
"Thanks."
A hiss in the darkness. I froze, my hands falling from Jeremy's hips as he kept moving. A loud chatter sounded right at my feet. I resisted the urge to kick and danced backward instead, wildly looking around, seeing only blackness.
"Jaime?"
Another hiss. I stumbled back. My foot slid in the muck and-
Jeremy's hands caught me around the waist and swooped me up.
"Grab my neck and hold on."
As I slid my hands around his neck, my fingertips brushed through his hair, then down along the back of his neck. Just bad aim, of course. Couldn't expect me to see in the dark.
He took two steps, then stopped and cursed under his breath. More hissing. The scrabbling of tiny claws on concrete. The enraged shriek of a rat defending its nest, and I knew our path was blocked.
Jeremy made the low growling noise that had scared off the cat. A few rats' shrieks turned to panic, but more just kept chattering. Jeremy jerked back as he kicked a rat. I resisted the urge to bury my face in his chest like some nineteenth-century heroine.
"Hold on," he murmured. "This is going to take a stronger warning."
I tightened my grip. He twisted, as if leaning away from me, and let out a snarl that resounded through the tunnel. The rats squealed, claws scraping the concrete as they ran.
Jeremy took a few steps, getting us past the rats' nest, then lowered his lips to my ear. "My apologies. That wasn't very civilized."
I wasn't complaining. It'd worked on me too… though not in the same way. I readjusted my grip, pressing closer. His lips brushed my ear, sending a delicious chill down my neck.
"Sorry," he murmured, mouth still at my ear, breath hot on my neck. Then he straightened. "We should keep going."
I agreed wholeheartedly. Unfortunately, he meant walking. And just when I'd started thinking sex in a dank, rat-infested tunnel wouldn't be so bad after all. It would certainly be a first and, with me, that wasn't easy.
I rested in his arms, enjoying the heat of his body, the smell of him, blocking the stench of the tunnel. After a few minutes, though, that twenty-first-century independent woman started nagging at me and, with a silent sigh, I said, "We're far enough away. You can put me down."
"I could. But the tunnel is wide enough here for me to carry you and, from the smell, people use this end, so I suspect there's discarded needle or two on the ground. Not something you should step on in bare feet."
Couldn't argue with that. Another minute and we could see dim light. We soon reached the source-moonlight streaming through a partly boarded-up exit.
Jeremy put me down and I pulled on my shoes. Then we squeezed out through the door and found ourselves at the bottom of stairs leading from a parking lot to the basement door of some building.
We finally escaped the putrid, rat-infested tunnel only to step out into a cold drizzling ran. Never fails. I catch a break and I pay for it. The story of my life.
So we ran, shivering and wet, from under one overhang to the next. Jeremy gave me his coat, and I didn't argue. We finally reached the street and darted under a store awning.
"Not the safe fact-finding mission you had in mind, was it?" Jeremy said. "Are you all right?"
"Sure. It was fun."
The corners of his mouth twitched. "Fun?"
"Well, fun is probably pushing it but, hey, this is the first adventure I've survived without being kidnapped, attacked, knocked unconscious or possessed by evil spirits. A ripped blouse? Ruined skirt? Bad hair? I'd call this progress."
He laughed. Then his eyes met mine, face turning serious. He moved closer, his hand going under my chin, warm fingers against my skin, tilting my face up, leaning down to me.
He wiped his thumb over my cheekbone, frowned and peered at it.
"You cut your cheek on something." He reached for the spot again, then pulled back. "I probably shouldn't touch it. My hands are filthy."
I met his gaze. "I don't mind."
He hung there, over me, one hand at my back, clutching my blouse, eyes darkening, body taut, as if fighting the urge to take me up on my invitation. If I made a move, his resolve would break. I could see that in his eyes. Just reach up, put my arms around his neck, press my body against his and I'd see that fire again, feel that passion. No tortured cab ride back to his hotel. That would take too long. Make my move and I'd be carried back in the shadows of that alcove and-
I swallowed hard and stepped back. Probably the hardest thing I've ever done, but follow through on that impulse and there'd be regret come morning. Take it slow. Make sure it's where I want to go- where he wants to go.
As I fussed with my shoe strap, Jeremy peered out into the dark, wet street, squaring his shoulders against the chill. "We need to get you someplace warm and dry-"
A taxi turned the corner.
A quarter-smile. "Now there's the kind of magic I like."
He stepped out and waved it over, then turned to me. "I'm going back to the shop, to see whether I can pick up Botnick's trail. With any luck, he'll head somewhere interesting after his encounter."
"Are you sure? It might be-"
"Dangerous?" The corners of his mouth twitched. "Don't worry. I'll be careful."
The cab stopped. He opened the rear door halfway, then paused, looking back at me.
"You're welcome to come with me. I didn't mean-" He gestured at the cab. "I'm not trying to get rid of you. I just thought you'd probably had enough…"
"If you could use me, I'd go. But tracking is your field. I'd only get in the way."
I slid past him into the car.
He leaned in and swept a strand of wet hair back from my face. "You're never in the way, Jaime."
I turned my face toward his, lifting my chin…
"Call me when you get to the house," he said. "So I know you arrived safely."
For a second, watching him close the door, I almost suspected he'd been teasing me-here and in the tunnel. But no. Jeremy was nothing if not responsible. At a time like this, flirting would be the last thing on his mind.
Damn.
He jogged around to give the driver directions and a few bills. As the cab pulled away from the curb, I remembered his coat and rolled down my window.
"Your-" I called, but he had his back to me, hurrying to the shelter of the awnings. A second later, he vanished into the shadows, looping back to Botnick's shop.