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And what a beautiful hunt this was.
He stood and strode for her car, careful to stay behind a row of taller vans to hide from the police cameras. He still wore his helmet. One check of the car door handle, and he shook his head. Hallie had left it unlocked. That woman had so much to learn, but also, if anyone wanted to get into her car or cause her harm, they would find a way.
Shifters could be monsters, but so could humans.
He sank into the car and pulled down the visor so it would shield his actions from the angle of the parking lot camera. When he did, a spare set of keys fell into his lap.
Tsk tsk tsk. Hallie, Hallie, Hallie. All the wrong moves.
A flash of a memory drifted across his mind. It was of the uncertainty and fear in her pretty hazel eyes as he had asked who would hate the shorts she was wearing.
A growl rippled from his chest as he ducked down and sniffed at the radio, the gear shift, and the passenger’s seat. He would check the undercarriage of the car next, but he had a feeling he would find it inside.
Gunner ran his finger across a seam of carpet under the steering wheel that seemed out of place. He slid out of the car for a better angle and ripped the carpet down. There was a small circuit board, but the first plug-in looked different than the others. It had metal prongs, while the others were plastic.
He narrowed his eyes and pulled it out, replaced the carpet, and sat back in her car. Hmm. He’d been right, and that pretty woman was really being stalked more thoroughly than she’d even realized.
It made the blood in his veins boil.
He considered crushing it, but on second thought, he shoved it into his pocket. Let that motherfucker stalk him now. See where it got him—an early grave, likely.
Gunner retracted from the car. He locked the car and shut the door, then strode away from it, his back to the camera.
All it would pick up was black jeans, a destroyed black hoodie, and a motorcycle helmet.
Outside of that, he didn’t care much about being caught. He didn’t care about anything anymore.
Put him out of his fuckin’ misery.
But this…this hunt…this mystery woman…she was a beautiful distraction from the hell he’d found himself in.
Gunner had ruined everything.
He’d fallen apart over the years, lost control of his animal, and then he’d done something even worse. He’d lost control of the man as well.
He’d burned his friends’ lives to the ground.
He was a shifter with nothing to lose anymore, because his entire life had revolved around causing damage.
What a beautiful temptation to fix something for someone, for once, instead of destroying them.
He needed to find out who this tracker belonged to.
Gunner jogged across the street and into the dark lot a block away, then slid his leg over the seat of his motorcycle and turned the key. The engine growled to life.
He needed to see someone he trusted to figure out this tracking device.
Someone who understood technology, but was quiet about it.
Someone who had been around since he’d been born.
He needed to return to Damon’s Mountains and visit Bash of the Boarlanders.
Chapter Four
It was four in the morning, and Hallie still couldn’t sleep.
She couldn’t keep her eyes off the slow-spinning ceiling fan above her, illuminated by the glow of a small, plug-in nightlight. She’d never been scared of the dark until the last year, and now she had to have some kind of light to be able to let her body go vulnerable with unconsciousness. Usually when she couldn’t sleep like this, it was because she had that scared, hunted feeling from what she’d been through, but tonight her mind was spinning round and round like the ceiling fan above her for a different reason.
