“You’d better get packing, honey. We don’t want to miss our train.” Janet dropped a collection of half-empty toiletry bottles into a plastic bag and zipped it closed. “Would anyone like the hotel hand lotion from out of the bathroom, or can I have it? And there’s also a bar of hand soap in there that hasn’t been opened…”
Dylan ignored the chatter from her traveling companions as the trio of them continued rounding up their things in preparation of their departure from Prague that evening.
“Shit.”
“What’s wrong?” Nancy asked as she zipped up her small suitcase and propped it on one of the two queen beds in their shared room.
“My boss must not realize that when I said I was leaving Prague tonight, that meant I was leaving Prague tonight.”
Or rather he did understand, and didn’t care. According to his e-mail, Dylan was supposed to meet the Czech photographer tomorrow for a return trip to Jicín.
Marie came over and glanced at the computer. “Is this about your story?”
Dylan nodded. “He thinks it could be interesting with a few more pictures. He wants me to meet someone about it in the morning. He’s already set up the appointment for me.”
“But we’re due at the train station in less than an hour,” Janet pointed out.
“I know,” Dylan said, as she started typing a reply message to that effect.
She explained that she and her companions were taking the evening train to Vienna—their last stop on the tour before they departed back home for the States. She wouldn’t be able to meet with the photographer because as of ten o’clock tonight, she wasn’t going to be around.
Dylan finished typing the reply, but as she moved her cursor over the Send button, she hesitated to let the message go. She already had a reserved seat on Coleman Hogg’s shit list. If she turned down this appointment—for any reason—she knew without a doubt that she would be kissing her job good-bye.
And as tempting as the thought actually was, getting herself fired was something she really couldn’t afford to do right now.
“Damn it,” she muttered, sliding her mouse over to click the Delete button instead. “It’s too late for me to cancel this meeting, and I probably shouldn’t anyway. You all are going to have to continue on to Vienna without me. I have to stay behind and take care of this story.”
Rio disembarked in Prague from a train packed with humans. Thanks to the blood he’d consumed and the rage that was coursing through every nerve ending in his body, his Breed instincts were locked on full alert as he stepped onto the platform of the busy station. Apparently his quarry had fled here, to Prague, after their confrontation earlier today. He’d been able to track her scent from the mountain into Jicín. From there, with a bit of mental persuasion, the operator of the small hotel in town had been cooperative enough to direct him toward Prague, where the American female and her companions had mentioned they were heading for the last leg of their stay abroad.
The tranced human had also been persuaded to fit Rio with a lightweight trench coat from the hotel’s lost-and-found. Although the taupe garment was out of season and several sizes too small, it did a decent job hiding the worst of the filthy, bloodstained rags he wore underneath. He didn’t give a shit about style or his looks, or even his certain stench, but he didn’t need to draw undue attention by walking into a public place like some kind of castaway freak show.
Rio tried to mask his muscular bulk and height, assuming a hunched yet purposeful shuffle as he ambled through the busy station. No one gave him anything more than a passing glance, the humans subconsciously dismissing him as one of the dozen-plus homeless unfortunates who loitered near the platforms or slept in corners of the station as the trains screeched and roared through the terminal.
With his head down to hide the scar-riddled left side of his face, eyes intense beneath the fall of his unkempt hair, Rio headed for the exit that would put him on a direct path into the heart of the city, where his hunt for the woman and her damning pictures would resume.
Anger kept him focused, even when his head began to spin in the noisy, harshly lit cavern of the station. He ignored the swamping feelings of dizziness and confusion, pushing them down deep so he could find his course and keep it.
Forcing his vision to clear, he moved through a tight knot of young men engaged in a sudden argument in the middle of the terminal. The verbal contest turned physical as Rio passed, one skinny kid from the group getting shoved into a well-dressed English tourist who was yammering on a cell phone as he hurried for the train. The unwitting mark scowled as he recovered from the very deliberate collision and continued on, unaware that he’d just lost his wallet to the gang of professional pickpockets. The thieves moved off with their score, dispersing into the crowd where they would probably pull the same stunt a few more times before the night was through.