Most of the papers fluttering out of books and folders—charts with such labels as “Diaspora,” colorful bar graphs, and what looked like mathematical equations—meant nothing at all to Bowman. Cristian kept picking things up, saying, “Interesting,” and not bothering to explain why.
Bowman searched for something he could use, such as a recorded payment to a sniper, or receipts for supplies to breed a monster, but he found nothing. Turner’s desktop computer booted up without a password, but there was nothing on it—according to Jamie, who was clicking away with the mouse. Pierce would be better at determining that, but right now Pierce was looking after Kenzie.
Who was haring around after Gil. Kenzie would get him—Bowman knew she would—and Pierce would help her. That’s my girl.
He hated the thought of Pierce out there with her. Once upon a time, Pierce had touched Kenzie, kissed her, listened while she laughed at him in her dusky, sultry voice . . .
“Bowman?” Cade asked. “You all right?”
Bowman found himself standing in the middle of the room, the papers in his hand shredding under his twisting fingers. He cleared his throat.
“I’m fine. Keep going. I want everything he’s ever written gone through. Then we track him down.”
“Yeah.” Cade’s concern didn’t go away. Bowman’s rage had mounted to a place where he’d soon lose control; one spark from his Collar confirmed that.
He needed to find Turner and beat answers out of him, then find Kenzie and let her soothe him down. She was the only one who ever could.
* * *
Kenzie landed on her feet, the impact jarring, but she was up and running in seconds. She might not be as graceful as a Feline, but out of all the Shifters, Lupines made the best hunters. Or so Uncle Cristian always said.
The back of the hotel gave onto a small empty lot. Kenzie dashed across it to an alley that led between stores in this touristy part of the town. She scattered a clump of cats who were investigating trash cans in the shadows and ran out into the street beyond.
A flash of movement took her attention to the right. Gil was still trying to cloak himself, to blend into the white mist that was rising in the dark. He couldn’t hide from Kenzie’s Shifter sight, though, and she wanted to laugh as she sprinted after him.
The road Gil ran down ended in woods, which Gil plunged into. Kenzie dashed after him.
A motorcycle roared up behind her, Pierce’s back tire skidding as he stopped. “Kenz, wait.”
Kenzie flung off her jacket. “I’m going after him. Either stay here and guard my clothes or come with me.”
“Damn it, if anything happens to you, Bowman will take my head off.”
Kenzie ripped free of her sweatshirt, kicking off her boots. “Tell Bowman you tried to stop me, and I fought you. He’ll believe that.”
She started running even as her jeans slid away. She tossed her underwear behind her, becoming wolf before she went another three strides.
The woods here were so thick snow hadn’t made it to the forest floor. The carpet of old pine needles and mud was frozen, cold and slick under her paws.
Kenzie had been raised in dense woods in the Transylvanian mountains—wild country, and remote. She’d roamed far and wide as a cub, fearless in her innocence.
Even now, she was more at home in woods than in towns. She craved clear air; to feel the ground, not concrete, beneath her feet; and untainted wind rushing through her fur.
Gil’s distinctive scent lay in a clear trail before her. Foolish man—or whatever he was—to think a Shifter couldn’t track him. Out here it was even easier, with fewer human scents to get in her way.
Gil could run, though, Kenzie gave him that. He was moving almost as fast as a Shifter could. But not quite.
She burst through the trees, terrifying smaller creatures who huddled in the night, and caught sight of Gil ahead of her. Kenzie rejoiced, the wolf in her ready to land on the man and tear into him. The human part of her that abhorred murder and wanted answers was almost as furious.
Gil was pounding along a narrow trail, nothing ghostly about him . . . until he disappeared again. Kenzie put on a burst of speed, determined not to lose him.
She slid to a halt on the edge of a ravine, her paws backpedaling, dirt and pine needles raining over the edge into the darkness.
Crap. Had Gil gone down this? Fallen to his death? Or did he know a secret path?
Kenzie howled. Partly to let Pierce know her location, partly in frustration.
She could still see and scent pretty well, so she started picking her way along the edge of the cliff, testing ways down into the ravine. She heard water below, one of the many rivers and creeks that crisscrossed the mountains. Rushing water, not frozen, meaning a fair-sized stream.
She sniffed, catching a tang of scent that might be Gil’s. But it was confused now, damn him. He’d known exactly where to go to elude her.