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I woke to the sound of men's voices. They were rough and ordinary, not the shimmering silken sounds I had fallen asleep to.
I kept my eyes closed and my breaths even. From what I could smell, the men were human, so they wouldn't be able to sense the change in my heart rate. I forced my confused mind to shake off the haze that swathed it and think. I was lying on my side on something fuzzy, with a hard surface underneath.
Fur. Right. The Magic Mushroom. The rug in the fancy room.
And Angel.
Shame and fury rose up in me like a tidal wave, and it was all I could do to keep still and not give away my alert state to the men in the room with me. When I found the siren, I was going to gut him and leave his carcass out for the giant mole rats that roamed the city walls looking for refuse.
My eyes prickled and I fought back the urge to do something stupid, like cry. I replayed the night's events in my head as my cur metabolism burned off what was left of the alcohol and the fucking aphrodisiac drugs he'd put in my last drink. This was what I got for being pathetic enough to crave the company of another person. Fucking fuck.
The worst part? He didn't even need to drug me. My pathetic ass would have followed him anywhere, all on my own.
I slowly took inventory. Someone had at least had the courtesy to put my underwear and t-shirt back on. My hands were bound behind my back. My legs were tied together at knees and ankles. And my damned mouth was duct taped shut. The strong chemical smell that wafted up from the tape made my head spin.
I was going to kill Angel.
But I had to get free first. Footsteps thumped across the room and a floorboard creaked. "It's still out."
Another voice replied. I didn't recognize either of them. "The whore said it'll be out for at least another four or five hours. That should get us close to sunset."
The other guy snorted. "Good enough for me. Boss said to detain the mutt 'til then, but it sure as fuck doesn't look like it's going anywhere any time soon, even if it does wake up."
There was a shifting of fabric as someone shrugged into a coat. The jangle of keys sliding off the table. "Good. Let's go find some food, then. I'm sick of just twiddling my thumbs watching some damned monster sleep off a bender. We can check back before we leave. It ain't going nowhere."
I waited until the door closed, then counted to one hundred. When I was sure they weren't coming back, I opened my eyes. I had no clue what the fuck was going on. I shifted, wiggling my hands to see if I could snap whatever held me. I felt the rough rope give a little, but it was too thick, and I didn't have enough leverage to break it, even with my enhanced strength.
I sagged, thumping my head against the floor. Then I registered the feeling of something else on my wrist, besides the rope. I jiggled my arms best as I could. There was a dull clink against the floorboards under my hands when I wriggled off the rug. Like wood hitting wood.
I froze. It couldn't be.
I worked my fingers around, grasping and straining, using the floor to brace my arm so I could contort my wrist to the point of pain, and...son of a bitch. It was. One of Angel's ever-present wooden bracelets was wrapped around my wrist, like a kinky fashion statement to go with the t-shirt and boxers I wore with my bondage-chic ropes.
I tried to curse his name, but I couldn't even manage that, since my fucking mouth was taped shut. Why drug me and hand me over to these assholes, then leave me a way out?
It took a lot of maneuvering, and some strained muscles and bruised skin. But I finally got the bracelet into position so I could push the clasp with the middle finger of my opposite hand. On the fifth try, the clasp clicked. I grinned, the tape pulling on the skin around my mouth as the thin, curved blade of the knife unfolded in my hand.
After that it only took a few minutes to awkwardly cut through the bindings. The blades of Angel's weird knives were ridiculously sharp, and I had always suspected there might be magic involved. No wonder he never went anywhere without them.
That I was now in possession of one was a puzzle. But I'd work it out later. Of course, all of my own weapons were gone. And so were my fucking clothes.
For whatever reason, someone wanted me delayed, but not dead. I supposed I should feel lucky about that. But all I could manage was a seething rage that was threatening to overwhelm what little common sense I had left.
He'd used me. Tricked me. It had all been a lie. Why?
I had a momentary memory of tears in the most beautiful golden eyes I'd ever seen. But that couldn't be right. Why cry for your stupid, naive victim?
I turned the knife so the wooden handle fit comfortably in my hand, the blade curving over the back of my knuckles and locking into place. If I had to punch someone, they were going to get a nasty surprise. Angel might look all ethereal and posh, but he was quick, and he fought like a dirty street rat when he needed to.
What the hell had he gotten involved in that concerned me? I searched the room quickly, but didn't find anything useful. I thought about trying to sneak down the hall, but the idiot goons were probably downstairs at one of the tables getting shit-faced. I wondered if Angel had purposefully told them the wrong information about my metabolism and how long the drugs would last, or if he had just overestimated my susceptibility to his magic. Either way, it gave me an easy out.
I jimmied open the one tall, narrow window overlooking a back alley and stuck my head out. It was cold, and the tiles of the shorter kitchen roof glistened with dampness. But it was the only option I had, unless I wanted to just fight my way out of the place. I could do it. But it would slow me down. There'd be questions, and I had a feeling time was important here.
Whoever did this wanted me out of the picture until after dark. That meant I could probably still fuck up whatever their plans were if I hurried. It didn't matter to me what they were trying to delay me for, at this point I was going to escape just out of pure spite.
I crawled up onto the windowsill and called on what shifter magic I had, feeling my muscles swell and contort, more subtle than a real shift, but still giving me added strength. My claws elongated and gave me purchase on the wood of the sill. I traded my dull human senses for sharp cat hearing and beast eyes. Taking a deep breath, I leapt out the window, arching my body at an impossible angle to snag the peak of the kitchen roof below, managing to land on my feet without too much noise. Nothing that would be heard over the noise in the busy kitchen this time of night.
I crept down the sloped roof and grasped the gutter, somersaulting over the edge and dangling by my hands for a moment before dropping to my feet on the ground. On the other side of the kitchen there were laundry facilities. I slunk in through the back door. There was a big guy doing laundry, probably a bouncer put on back door duty who had been told to earn his keep while he was at it. He blocked my entry, then looked down at my bare legs.
"Rough night, Sam?"
I nodded. I recognized this one. He had worked here for years, and put up with me and Angel's shenanigans with stoic indifference. I was pretty sure he wasn't going to kick up a fuss now. "Something like that. I just need to borrow some pants. I promise, I'll pay the madame back, but I'm in a bit of a pinch at the moment."
He raised an eyebrow and gave me a look that said he knew he should ask, but he really didn't want the hassle. "Fine," he groused, rubbing a hand over the long scar that marred one side of his craggy face. "Over there," he jerked his head toward a basket of folded clothes, and I let out a sigh of relief.
Folding the knife back into a stupid wooden bracelet, I slid the thing onto my wrist and set about finding a serviceable pair of pants and a long-sleeved shirt. They were too big, but I was able to filch a scarf to use as a belt.
The big guy, Claude, if I remembered correctly from when I was a kid, grinned at me. "You look like a crazy bum."
I shrugged. "At least I'm not running around with my dick and tits flapping in the wind. Thanks."
He nodded and returned to folding laundry as I slipped back out the door.
I tried to come up with some reason for Angel to hand me over to thugs. What the hell would they even want with me? Though...I had pissed off a lot of people in my lifetime, most of them hunters.
I was surprised I wasn't dead. But whoever was involved must not want any heat on them. I might be a cur and a pain in the ass, but I was pretty well known for my hunting abilities. If I went missing when I was just about to set out on a big contract, that would be suspicious.
I stopped and slapped my own forehead. Stupid, Sam. I must still be hazy from the booze, and drugs, and mind magic. Because it was obvious what this was about. The fucking unicorn contract.
I made my way to the sidewalk, darting unobtrusive looks around me to make sure I wasn't being followed. Then I walked as fast as I could without running and drawing attention to myself. My movements were stiff with anger, but I didn't let myself dwell on it. Because if I did, the pain and humiliation would come with it and swamp me. Instead, I focused on the hunt.
Fin wasn't at the shabby little hole-in-the wall apartment he rented across town. Hating the necessity of it, I drew on my shifter powers again, not to shift, but to use my enhanced senses. I wasn't a tracking dog, but I did have a good sense of smell, when I cared to use it. I closed my eyes and drew in a deep breath, recalling the warm, fresh scent that was Fin, and the faint taste of his magic on my tongue.
At least that stupid, disaster kiss had served one purpose. The leprechaun was imprinted in my senses, in my mind. Pushing down the memory of every damned romantic aspect of the last two days' events, I turned and let the cool breeze feed me hints of where the little man had disappeared to.
I found him in an alley three blocks from his apartment. I almost ran right by him, mistaking him for a pile of garbage, but then I caught his scent and backtracked. The coppery scent of blood and the stink of a nearby dumpster was intertwined with his smell.
"Damn it," I sighed, my heart in my throat as I crouched and reached out a hand to shake him. I could hear his heart beating, slow but steady.
He didn't respond at first. Then he moaned and curled in on himself. What I could see of his face in the dim light was covered in bruises and lacerations. He'd been beaten pretty badly, from the looks of it.
I ran my hands over his body, looking for any serious injury before I tried to move him. His breath wheezed out as my hands slid over his torso and down his short legs. "Nothing broken, I don't think," he croaked, startling me. I met one mossy eye. The other was swollen shut. "Besides my fingers," he added with a hiss.
I helped him when he struggled to sit up, avoiding the hand he held cradled to his chest. He winced and let out a rush of breath. "And maybe a cracked rib, or ten. Why do fuckers like that always insist on kicking a guy when he’s down?"
I let out a relived huff of laughter. "Impotence?" I suggested.
Fin wheezed a bitter laugh. "Must be."
I helped him slowly to his feet. I had the absurd impulse to scoop him up and carry him. It probably wouldn't be too much trouble, with his size and my shifter-enhanced strength. But I knew better than to even offer. If there was one thing I understood about being different, it was how easily your pride could be offended.
So, I offered a hand and let him lean on me only when he felt it was necessary, enduring his slow, dragging pace as we headed back toward his apartment.
"Did they take the contract?" I asked flatly.
He sighed, grimacing as he yanked his own broken fingers straight and held them in place. "Yeah."
I bit my lip, irritated with myself. If I hadn't been off having a pity party, I probably would have found Fin sooner. Hell, maybe I would have been with him and this wouldn't have happened at all.
But then, that was probably the plan—get me out of the way so the leprechaun was more vulnerable. It was about Fin, not me. Fin was the one with the contract, the guild master. I stopped and turned to him. "Do you know where Emerson lives?"
He blinked up at me in confusion with his one good eye. Then he seemed to get it. "Fuck. Yeah. But he's gonna kill me for telling anyone."
I shrugged. "Better than dying because they left him bleeding out somewhere." Because if they'd thought to get me away from Fin, then surely they'd think Emerson was a threat too. He and Fin spent a lot of time together prepping for the hunt and talking about Fin's insane dreams for his new guild that didn't exist.
Fin led me to the shadiest part of town. Most of the buildings here were technically abandoned, but filled with squatters. The alleys in between were filled with tarp cities, the homeless sheltering where they could. I shuddered. One tiny spark would make a fire that would spread for blocks. It had happened before.
I stepped over people and ducked under rags and bits of laundry, feeling eyes on me, even as the residents slunk into the shadows and kept to themselves. I felt uncomfortable without my weapons, but I did have Angel's knife. And my claws, if I got desperate.
Fin didn't have to slow down to duck under things, and I muttered under my breath as I tried to keep sight of him. Finally, he stopped outside a run-down shop of some kind. The windows were boarded up and a piece of plywood was padlocked over the entrance door. Fin glanced at me as if waiting for my reaction. I just stared back blandly.
"You and me could almost pass as human," he said softly. "And it's still damned hard to get by. It's nearly impossible for the ones who really stand out to get jobs to pay for food and rent. Even harder to find a place that will actually rent to them." He wasn't telling me anything new.
And Emerson really stood out. He couldn't hide his hulking stature or his green-tinted skin. He was clearly not even remotely human. I sighed. "Is there a secret knock or something?" I said, gesturing at the door.
Fin smirked up at me with his bruised face. "Secret entrance." He led me around the side and through a big, boarded up window where some of the boards were only for show.
But Emerson wasn't in the squat.
After a few brief words with the wary tenants that shared his hovel, it was clear he hadn't been back since last night. So, while Angel was distracting me, someone was taking care of Emerson. I fisted my hands at my sides. The guy might be half-ogre, but he was kind and gentle. An easy mark. I hated to imagine what someone could do to him.
Fin led me to a building a few streets over, on the edge of a slightly more respectable part of town. The locals held markets and sold art and handicrafts here. Apparently, Emerson did tech work, and when he couldn't get that, he made art out of metal scraps. Seriously. Emerson was a perfect name for the sappy idiot.
We found him locked in the back of one of the vendor stalls. He had managed to dent the big metal door, and he'd broken the manacles they bound him with, but the assholes had darted him with something, so he was still a little weak and groggy. His big, red-brown eyes went wide when he saw us, and he fell to his knees in front of the leprechaun. "Fin," he said, reaching out to wrap his big hand around the leprechaun's shoulder. "Your poor face. I'm so sorry I wasn't with you."
Fin snorted and waved it away, embarrassed by the show of concern. "I don't need lookin' after like some fairytale princess," he groused. “And my ugly mug will be fine.”
I slouched against a dusty table in the display area and crossed my arms. "Well, what's the plan now? They stole the contract and tried to delay us so we couldn't catch up to them. But I think they planned on us taking longer to get back together. We can file for another contract and get things handled officially, but that will take at least a few days. And by then, we might have already lost our quarry."
The hunters wouldn't be able to turn the contract in and collect money, since it had our names on it. But they could sell unicorn parts on the black market for nearly as much money.
Why go to all this fuss, I had no idea. But maybe they just wanted us out of the way long enough to get the unicorn parts, and stealing the contract was just another way to slow us down.
Emerson glowered, the frown alarming on his square features. His dark brows pulled down and he stood, clenching his big fists at his sides. "I can make sure we are still named as the contract holders at the association. It'll only take me an hour, tops, to get into their system. I have a friend with the equipment to print the paper contract too, if you want."
I shrugged. "I think as long as we're still in the computer system as the real owners of that contract, that's all that matters. Whoever took it probably won't be trying to cash it in there."
"Well then," Fin said with a grim, determined smile. "I say we get the rest of our shit together and get out there to hunt some unicorns."
I grinned back at him. The smarter thing to do would be to call the whole thing off. But I wasn't smart. I was pissed. I was going to get the unicorns and the idiots who'd attacked us. Then I was going to hunt a siren. "Sounds good to me."
Emerson sighed. "I'm going to regret this."
I grinned up at him. "Yeah, probably."
Fin shook his head. "Nah. It will all work out. I can feel it."
I didn't point out that he'd said that before we all got beaten, hog-tied, and locked up. But eh, details, details. I wanted to shoot some shit. Maybe do some stabbing. If he wanted to be idiotically optimistic about it all, then fine.
"I just have one stop to make when we head out of town," I said softly. "Meet me at the cannery in half an hour and we'll head out."