I approached a building in Yaletown. Posh and trendy, with boutiques oozing glamour and the eclectic vintage look that cost a fortune, or in other words, not where I’d normally hang out.
Maybe I should quit and become a handler. My nails scraped against hard asphalt. If Landen could afford to live here…he likely had gone rogue. A government paycheck couldn’t pay for this.
I huffed and pawed the pavement to stir up the scents, confirming this was Landen’s place. The front entrance had layers of his scent. None were newer than the one I’d followed. My hackles rose with apprehension. Either Landen had run or he’d holed up soon after our meeting. Neither could be for a good reason, but it did explain why he hadn’t cleaned his scent trail.
I circled the building and my sense of unease built. No new trails. Landen was in the building or gone. Sitting back on my haunches, I scanned the building for what I needed—an open window. The night, not particularly cold or wet for once, meant there were several.
Behind a dumpster, I willed the change and stretched my wings out wide. It felt good. My falcon had been neglected since my ill-fated escape attempt. I soared, letting the wind push me up, and relishing the freedom, I hovered a little longer than needed before maneuvering through the open window.
My falcon shifted away before my feet hit the plush carpet. I looked around the room. An elderly couple slept soundly beside each other in bed holding hands above the covers. How sweet. The faint odour of pharmaceuticals surrounded them. Most likely, they were drugged up on a cocktail of prescription medication to get through the night with as little pain as possible. They slept on their backs with their mouths open. Spittle blew in and out with each breath before pooling at the corners of their mouths.
They both snored loudly.
I wondered why they left their window open. Old people were cold all the time. My grandmother used to complain about it. “It seeps into my bones,” she would say.
Smiling at the memory, I slunk out of the room and walked through their cluttered apartment decorated by a nation’s worth of doilies. The view from their front door peephole didn’t reveal anyone loitering in the hallway. I snuck out and sprinted to the staircase, like the roadrunner on crack. Although it would’ve been easier and less physical to ride the elevator to each floor to look for Landen, it contained too much risk. I was butt naked and it would take one person to hit the up or down button to ruin my night. Talk about an awkward elevator conversation.
Hi, how are you?
Naked and yourself?
The door to the hallway staircase wouldn’t open. I cursed. I needed a key fob, but that didn’t stop me from jiggling the doorknob a couple more times just in case I could open it with sheer strength and will power.
Admitting temporary defeat, I jogged back to the old folk’s home. It didn’t take long to find their keys because they were in a dish by the door, next to some candies. What was with old people and sweet stuff?
I made my way back to the stairs and used their key fob to get in. Landen seemed like the type to enjoy looking down on others, so I headed up the stairs. Luckily, the doors were not locked from inside the stairwell. I opened the door on each level to see if I could smell my handler. Five floors up, I found his scent.
And something else unpleasant. Death.
It would be strong enough in a couple more days for the norms to detect, which meant old death. My wolf howled in my head and the back of my neck tingled as the tiny hairs rose. This didn’t bode well. I walked to the doorway suffused with the smell of Landen and the stench of decay. There was no need to knock. The door was unlocked.
I pushed open the solid door, and bracing for what was on the other side, walked in and pulled the door closed behind me. I didn’t want the smell to get out any more than it already had and alert the norms before I had a chance to investigate.
If there was a way to turn off my nose, I would’ve gladly used it.
Landen lay splayed in the middle of his living room—his body eviscerated, with bloody entrails strewn across the hardwood flooring. A quick death, but pain stamped Landen’s once handsome face. And surprise. I reached out to check his body and hesitated.
Death surrounded me every day, but it had been awhile since it visited someone I knew, much less someone I’d fooled around with. I didn’t particularly like Landen, and I was pissed that from all appearances, he’s gone rogue and used me, but his glazed over eyes made something inside me hurt a little.
Odd.
My stay at Wick Wonderland had made me soft. I might be spending eternity as Clint’s sexy-time play-toy. I shouldn’t feel bad for this guy. Hell, if he hadn’t already been killed, I might’ve done it myself.