Hunter's Oath (Changeling Blood Book 2) by Glynn Stewart

Author:Glynn Stewart [Stewart, Glynn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Faolan's Pen Publishing Inc.
Published: 2018-05-17T22:00:00+00:00

As Barry had figured, even the police barely gave us a glance-over as we left the parking lot, following Chernenkov’s scent. A young couple with an oversized dog, out for the walk the animal definitely needed. Too far away to have heard anything out of the chaos that had swept over the area.

If they identified the building as the sniper’s perch, they might have changed their mind—but the only reliable way to do that would have been to examine the Pouka’s leftover brass, which was now jingling in my pocket.

Barry was doing a spectacular impression of a big, happy, well-trained floofball of a dog, bouncing forward and sideways to the “limits” of the easily-broken leash but always returning to “heel” at the sight of another animal or person. Despite the seeming joyful randomness in his movements, however, he was definitely leading us on a specific path.

Chernenkov had fled north, moving deeper into the suburb and weaving a twisted course around and through about ten blocks of houses before she exited into a massive park area. There were more dogs and people around at the entrance, but Barry led us through them with practiced ease.

Once we were out of sight of the crowd, the werewolf growled and took off in a straight line. Fast as Mary and I were, we were hard pressed to keep up with Barry’s run. We’d be very obvious if we were seen, but Barry was clearly relying on our superior senses to avoid interception.

I appreciated his rush. The trail had to be growing cold now. Chernenkov would go only so far before acquiring a vehicle, which would dead-end the trail. We were probably already too late, a thought that was reinforced when we came down a hill into an almost-empty parking lot.

Barry sniffed forward into the lot, beelining to an empty spot between two large SUVs and circling it quickly as he poked around. Finally, using the two SUVs for cover, he shimmered and transformed back into a massive dark-haired young man.

“I love hunting old supes sometimes,” he told me cheerfully.

“What do you mean?” I asked. “I’m guessing she had a car here and is gone?”

“You get half a dog treat, Jason my brother,” he told me. “She’s gone, but she didn’t have a car here. She stole a car. And she’s, what, two hundred? Hundred fifty?”

“Younger than that,” I said bluntly. “But yeah, old by human standards. Your point?”

“She stole a Flexfuel car.” He grinned at my blank face. “That means it can use a bunch of fuels, usually mixes of gas and ethanol. Smart engine, adjusts the mixture, but super-distinctive scent.”

“Oh.”

“Especially if the sensor is off calibration and the owner’s been adding ethanol manually,” Barry concluded. “She thinks she’s cut off the trail, but I can track that vehicle till she runs it out of gas.”

He paused, then sighed.

“On foot, sadly, but I can follow her. I suggest I do just that…and you two go get my truck.” His grin widened.

“If nothing else, my shotgun is in there and we may need a quick getaway.

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