The belt took some time to examine my thoughts before it said anything, though it reveled in the exercise as I raced out of the room and down the stairs again. Keith dropped his book and flattened himself against the wall as I rushed past, and I barely remembered myself enough to throw a “Sorry!” over my shoulder before I was outside and breathing in the cold night air.
Bo was already warming up his car, a late model silver BMW. He took off as soon as I slid into the passenger seat, and I gave him directions to Chaz’s gym, thinking hard about where I might search first. He didn’t have an office, but he did have a cabinet with files on his clients near the front desk. Doubtless Kimberly’s information was somewhere in those files. If I could get whoever was manning it to let me check it, I’d be golden. If not, one of the guys might have overheard something, and I could interview whoever was around. It was open twenty-four hours, so depending on who had taken the night shift this time around, there was a good chance one of the employees would know where I could find her.
If not, Chaz had said her office was “next door” to his gym. There couldn’t be that many massage therapists with offices in that area. Process of elimination would serve just as well as digging up the info from Chaz’s files.
It didn’t take us long to get there. Traffic had died down for the most part by now, and we found a parking garage half a block from the building housing the Midtown Elite Fitness Center, not far from the Plaza District—or Royce’s main office. The sign for the gym was clearly visible even from halfway down the block. There were some other businesses in the building, too, including some boutiques and a café on the first floor, but that was to be expected in this part of town. Chaz had a nice brownstone in Queens, not terribly far from here. It made me wonder how many times he’d brought his “work” home with him, which must have pissed me off more than I’d realized, because the oh-shit handle above my door cracked under my fingers.
“Hey, lighten up over there. Did you break something?”
I let go of the handle and concentrated on the parking structure straight ahead, not meeting Bo’s concerned gaze as he glanced at me. “It’s fine. We’re almost there.”
Absently picking at the plastic now embedded in my palm, scowling more in anger than pain, I waited impatiently for Bo to find a spot and park the car. He’d barely come to a stop before I was out the door and moving.
“Shia, what the hell’s gotten into you? Hold up!”
I waited impatiently for Bo to reach my side, hooking my thumbs over the belt under my sweater and drumming my fingers against the leather. Though he didn’t often show signs of his earlier injury, his running days were long over, and when he tried anything faster than a brisk walk, he gained a limp. As he was sporting now while he hurried to catch up with me.
The belt chose that moment to make its first snide remark of the evening. ‘Why do we need him again? He’s just going to slow us down.’
Don’t you get started, I thought at it.
‘There’s nothing to start,’ it complained. ‘You’re doing boring reconnaissance crap. What do you need me for? I’d rather you had me on while you sit and watch those chick flicks of yours than do this wannabe gumshoe crap.’
Oh, for the love of—
“Are you okay?”
The concern in Bo’s voice snapped me out of my murderous thoughts. Forcing a smile, I hooked my arm through his, tilting my head up to give him my best innocent look. “I’m fine. Just a little concerned to be out in the open, that’s all. Let’s get this over with.”
‘The sooner the better.’
He shook his head but didn’t argue, and we made our way to street level. Gleaming towers of concrete and chrome loomed over us like giants in the dark, sharp edges and tinted glass lit by the advertisements and signs and headlights all around us. Even at this hour, the streets were packed with people, most headed to or coming from restaurants, bars, and nightclubs. This wasn’t the best part of town for nightlife in the city, but it had its charms.
We made our way toward Chaz’s building, but I was dragging my feet, looking around. Something felt... off.
Bo didn’t notice. He seemed cheerful enough to have me on his arm, and to go at whatever pace I chose. He didn’t argue when I paused in the middle of the sidewalk, though he did look down at me with mild surprise. The belt was practically thrumming with energy. Whatever was going on, it sensed it, too.
‘Were. Close. Keep scanning the street. It’s here somewhere.’
That sent a shiver of mixed fright and anticipation through me. I didn’t have my armor or my guns. Though I was fast with the belt, I wasn’t sure if I was ready to face a Were without any weapons but the stakes. Even if they were silver, I’d have to get far closer than was safe to use them—and, as far as I knew, Bo didn’t have any weapons on him at all.
But then I saw what the belt and I were looking for, and forgot all sense of caution.
Blond hair in a ponytail and body encased in a pink, Juicy Couture velour tracksuit set, that boyfriend-stealing, two-faced, anorexic bimbo of a cheating whore, Kimberly, was just leaving the building Bo and I had been headed toward. If not for his sudden pained cry, bringing her attention our way, I might have had the element of surprise on my side.
Thanks to my sudden, unthinking rage, my grip had tightened so much that I’d nearly broken the radius of his left forearm. Even after I realized he was in pain because of me, it took me a second to remember I was supposed to let go.
The noise he made drew the attention of Kimberly, along with that of most of the other people on the street around us. Her brown eyes, wide with alarm, met mine for a split second—narrowed with recognition and anger—and then she was running. Away from me.
I didn’t wait to see if Bo was okay. There was no time or room for second thoughts. With the help of the belt, I was after her, and wouldn’t stop until my hands were wet with her blood.
Snarling, I dodged pedestrians and kept my gaze locked on her fleeing back, every step bringing me inches closer to bringing her down.
Distantly—very distantly—I recognized the path she was taking. It would bring us right to Central Park. As a Sunstriker, she had to know that she was as good as dead if she didn’t change direction, and soon.
If I didn’t kill her, there was no doubt in my mind that the Moonwalkers would as soon as she set foot on their territory.
It only made me more determined to catch her first.
Chapter 11
The wind blew back my hair, and it probably outlined the weapons under the sweater, but I didn’t care. I knew my expression was scaring people almost as much as my inhuman speed. They dodged out of our way, making a path for us, which was good. With the way I was feeling, I wouldn’t have minded mowing a few of them down if it meant getting my hands on her that much sooner.
We cut across traffic, raced around and sometimes over cars, but the honking didn’t dissuade me, either.
Kimberly was moving fast, but I was catching up.
She ducked around a decorative pillar in front of a bank and screamed over her shoulder, “Leave me alone!”
It gave me the opportunity to close the distance. I almost managed to wrap a hand around her upper arm, but the velour slipped through my fingers and she was off again, sprinting for the opening into the Grand Army Plaza in Central Park up ahead.