Suzanne McLeod - The Shifting Price of Prey

‘I was chasing a couple of the Emperor’s werewolves.’ I shrugged, like it was an everyday occurrence, and started walking towards him. ‘Don’t suppose you’ve seen any sniffing around?’

A fine line furrowed his brow. ‘Were these werewolves in human, animal or beast form?’

He hadn’t denied the possibility that the Emperor or his werewolves might be about. So, did that mean he knew something, but was going to stall me, or what? ‘Human, last I saw, but that was nearly ten minutes ago.’

‘I see.’ He lifted his chin, nostrils flaring, then his frown cut deeper. ‘It is possible they have come this way, but I cannot tell conclusively.’

My frown joined his. It wasn’t the answer I expected. Or wanted. Annoyed, I stopped a few feet away from him. ‘Why not?’

‘A werewolf in human form does not carry enough of their wolf’s scent for them to be identified by smell alone; it is part of the magic that allows them to be two-natured. I would need to have met them in their human form before I could pick out their scent from the myriad of others that permeate the air about us. As for scenting a werewolf in their wolf or beast form, there are a number of scents upon the air that could be wolf, or a large canine of some description, but with the zoo and the Carnival nearby that is to be expected.’

Right. Good that he was giving me chapter and verse without any prevarication. It meant he was on the level and not trying to hide anything. For a change. My irritation dissipated and I took a step closer. ‘So a werewolf in human form smells like a human, and in their wolf form smells like a wolf?’

‘Yes,’ he agreed, giving me a look that said he had his own questions but was prepared to answer mine. For now. ‘They are much more easily identified by sight, or by their blood.’

I blinked. ‘They don’t smell different, but their blood does?’

He moved closer; his coat brushed against my jeans. I stuck my hands in my back pockets, resisting the urge to run my fingers down his black T-shirt where it stretched over his hard abs. Later .

‘Their blood has a certain tang to it, yes.’

Malik’s voice was low, intimate and turned my knees weak. Embarrassingly, it took me a moment to catch up with his words . . . Oh right, werewolf blood tasted different. Weird that didn’t affect its smell . . . I got my brain back on to business and looked up at him. ‘Have you met any of the Emperor’s werewolves?’

A conflicted expression crossed his face, part sadness, part . . . anger, maybe? ‘I have. But not in more than five hundred years.’

Werewolves only live a human lifespan. So not much point describing the couple to him. Though really, since he’d tacitly admitted that the Emperor and his werewolves could be about, it wasn’t what the couple were that was in question, but where they were, and where they might be going, so we could locate the victims. But if he couldn’t scent them, we couldn’t follow them.

Damn. Looked like the werewolf trail was a dead end.

I cut Malik an enquiring look, and asked the big one. ‘What about the Emperor? Have you met him more recently?’

His eyes turned cold. ‘I have not.’

Nice unequivocal answer, even if his tone had sent a shiver down my spine. Malik really didn’t like the imperial vamp. ‘So does that mean you don’t know where his lair is?’

‘I do not know where he might be if he is in London, which is the question you are asking, I believe?’

‘Yep.’

He stepped back and disappointment sifted in me. I sighed. Well, I was the one who’d spoiled the moment . ‘My question is, why do you want to know, Genevieve?’

‘I told you. The tarot cards say the Emperor has the answer to releasing the fae’s trapped fertility.’

‘But what has that to do with the Bangladeshi ambassador?’

Something, but exactly what I didn’t know. And I wasn’t going to find out staying here. I hitched my small backpack higher. ‘How about I tell you on the way back to the mosque? If I can’t find the werewolves, then I want to see what info I can get out of the ambassador.’

He pushed his hair back, elegant fingers sliding through its long length. ‘The ambassador is no longer there.’

‘Really?’

‘I looked for you at the mosque first. While there I overheard him having an altercation with his security chief. He had received an invitation for an immediate meeting with the British Prime Minster. The security chief did not want the ambassador to go, but moments later the ambassador’s vehicle arrived and I saw him driven away.’

Crap. Tonight was a dead end all round. At least when it came to werewolves, the ambassador and finding his connection to the fae’s trapped fertility. I looked at Malik. Though maybe not when it came to other things, like our date. Not that I wanted to head off to the Blue Heart vamp club, but maybe we didn’t have to. We could stay here. It was way better. Quiet, private, and with the added advantage of no Autarch hanging around to play the psychotic gooseberry.

I gave Malik a bright smile. ‘How about I tell you what the ambassador has to do with this while we take a walk around the lake?’

Malik slipped his coat off and hooked it over his shoulder. ‘A walk would be pleasing, Genevieve,’ he said, his voice taking on its earlier intimate tone.

My pulse sped up. Pleasing wasn’t the half of it.

He moved closer and traced a line along my jaw, setting my skin tingling. ‘Or we could make use of the lake?’ Gentle pressure from his hand turned my gaze down towards the water, to where one of the lake’s small wooden boats bobbed. I hadn’t noticed it before. A boat trip out on the moonlit water was heading into Hallmark romance territory. Not that I had anything against that; in fact, I was all for it. The thought of Malik wielding a pair of oars, in the short-sleeved black T-shirt he was wearing, while I sat back and watched (preferably without any embarrassing drooling on my part) had my heart thudding even faster in anticipation.

‘That would also be . . . very pleasing,’ I said, matching his cool, despite knowing his vamp supersenses had to have picked up the faster tempo of my heartbeat.

‘Shall we?’ He held out his hand, black eyes glinting with quiet amusement.

I gave him a mock quelling look and placed my hand in his. His cool fingers closed around mine as he led me down to the short slope and to the boat. As I stepped in the boat rocked gently then settled. I sat on the low seat, my back to the pointy end (stern or the bow? I wasn’t sure: my knowledge of boats is sadly lacking), and tucked my backpack behind me as a cushion. I stretched my legs out and found the small boat surprisingly comfortable.

Malik jumped in confidently. The boat didn’t move, not even the slightest rock. Dropping his coat behind the middle seat, he sat and faced me, legs either side of mine, forearms resting on his thighs, clasped hands dangling mere inches above my jeans-clad legs. He smiled, a teasing lift of his lips and the boat pushed off and seemed to glide out onto the lake under its own power, quiet ripples in the moon-silvered water following in its wake.

‘Show off,’ I murmured.

His smile widened into a grin with a glimpse of fang and my heart did a little happy flip. Not only was he gorgeous, I’d never seen him so relaxed before. But then most of the time we’d spent together we’d been dealing with some crisis or I’d kept my suspicious barriers up between us. Not without reason; Malik usually knew far more about whatever was going on than I did, and just as usually wasn’t keen on letting me in on it.

But for once, whatever was happening with the vamps, Malik seemed to be as out of the loop as I was.