'Tell me how you know my name, and why you're really here," she said, a slight flush invading her cheeks.
Before he could answer, a howl ran across the night. It was a high-pitched wail of distress that sounded more human than animal. The manarei's mate giving voice to its grief.
Time was running out. Though he still had four silver bullets in the gun, facing a grief-stricken manarei was an entirely different proposition to one in a feeding frenzy. Given the option, he preferred to run.
'The creature had a mate." Her gaze searched the night, and her voice was soft, edged with fear.
Doyle raised his eyebrows, wondering how she knew. "Yeah. And it's going to be a little pissed that we killed him. We have to get out of here."
"Why didn't you just say that earlier, instead of rambling on about the hospital?"
Her gaze met his. It seemed to delve right to his soul, tasting secrets he'd rather keep hidden. "Didn't want to alarm you more than necessary." She snorted softly again. "Like my night hasn't been one huge, monsterfilled nightmare already." And she was counting him as one of those monsters, at least until she knew who and what he was—something he was in no hurry to tell her. "Can we just get in the car?" He touched her elbow. Warmth flared, washing electricity between them. Not her magic but something deeper, something more basic. Her gaze flicked to his, startled, but she didn't pull away, didn't run. But only, he suspected, because the other manarei was still out there hunting her.
He helped her over to the car and opened the door. The lightning still danced across her fingers, stronger now than it had been before. He wondered what her magic was, and why she hadn't used it against the manarei. Another scream cut across the night, closer than before. Doyle slammed the door shut and hurried around to the driver's side. The wind whipped around him, bringing with it the scent of death. Their death, if they didn't get out of here.
He started the engine, switched on the lights and threw the car into gear. The wheels spun on the wet road for several seconds before the car lurched forward.
"You know, you neatly avoided answering my question before." She was leaning against the door, as far away from him as she could possibly get. Her arms were crossed, hands hidden, but he sensed this was less a defensive gesture and more an effort to keep warm. She must have been out in the rain for some time, because she looked soaked.
He leaned forward and switched the heater to full blast. "And what question would that be?"
She made an exasperated sound. "Why are you here?" she repeated. "And how do you know my name?"
The lights changed to red up ahead. Doyle braked and glanced at the rearview mirror. Though he couldn't see anything, he knew the manarei was out there. Its grief was so strong the night reeked with it.
"I'm here because an old witch told me to be here."
"And I suppose this old witch just happened to tell you my name, as well?" Her voice was sharp with disbelief.
"Actually, yes, she did." He shifted gears and edged forward, wishing the lights would hurry up and change again.
"I see."
The tone of her voice told him she didn't. She stared out the window for several seconds. Tension rode her. Ready to run, Doyle thought, and knew if she did, she'd die.
"Look," he said, trying to keep his voice as calm and non-threatening as possible. "I'm a private investigator. I'm working on a case that bears striking similarities to what happened to your friend tonight, and I came to investigate. That's all, nothing more."
'Then why did you stop back there? Why come down Grice Street at all if you were going to my place?"
He shrugged. "I got lost." The lights finally went green. He pressed the accelerator and sped off.
She studied him for several long seconds. "You're a liar, Doyle Fitzgerald."
He glanced at her. Her green eyes were flecked with silver and gleamed brightly in the darkness. So pretty, and yet so full of anguish and mistrust.
"I'm not lying about the reason I'm here."
"Maybe." She looked away. "And maybe you'd better just stop and let me—" She hesitated, and gasped.
The shadows moved ahead, and the streetlights gleamed off the metal garbage can hurtling towards them. Doyle braked hard, and the car slewed sideways. The bin hit the hood of the car, shattering the windshield before rolling off into the rain swept darkness.
Through the spiderweb of cracks, Doyle could see the manarei, eyes gleaming yellow fire as it raced towards them. He cursed and threw the gears into reverse. The tires spun then gripped, and the car lurched backward. But not nearly fast enough.
"Look out," Kirby screamed a second before something heavy hit the hood. Glass shattered, flying everywhere. Kirby screamed again, a sound lost to the manarei's howl. It reached through the large hole it had shattered in the windshield, claws slashing wildly. Doyle braked, but the sudden stop failed to dislodge the creature. He thrust the car into neutral then threw a punch, connecting with the creature's jaw. The force of the blow jarred his whole arm but had little effect on the manarei. He might as well have been hitting concrete.
He grabbed the tire iron and smashed it into the creature's mouth. The manarei recoiled, shaking its head, splattering Doyle and Kirby with blood. Then it snarled and lashed at him. He thrust back in the seat as far he could, but the claws raked his side, tearing past his coat and into skin. He cursed and hit it again.
Blue fire leapt through the night. Kirby, her hands ablaze, touched the creature's arm. The lightning leaped from her fingers and spider-webbed across the manarei's body, encasing it in light. The smell of burnt flesh rent the air, and the creature howled again—this time a sound full of pain rather than anguish. Then it was flung backwards, off the car and onto the road. Doyle grabbed his gun and scrambled out.