I didn't hang about, simply imagined the dark and grimy warehouse area where I'd first confronted the no-face stranger, and suddenly I was there.
The first person I saw wasn't our faceless killer but my Cazador follower.
Fancy meeting you here, I said, my voice dry.
He bowed slightly, amusement creasing the corners of his brown eyes. You sound about as pleased to be here as I am.
It's more accurate to say I'm less than pleased about my reasons for being here. A soft vibration began to stir the air, a sensation that crawled across my skin and made me shiver. I rubbed imaginary arms and added, I gather you're still on a watching brief?
Yes. His gaze swept me critically, one warrior sizing up another. Not that I'd ever be half the warrior Aunt Riley was, let alone go up against someone like him. But your energy levels do not seem up to scratch right now, so I will step in if he threatens harm.
I frowned. Why?
Because Hunter would not be pleased if you were in any way hurt during this.
Yeah, because then I wouldn't be able to do her dirty work. The unpleasant vibration was getting stronger, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I turned and scanned the shadowy environs, glad that at least on the fields you couldn't actually smell anything. With the heat of the last few days, the rubbish and putrid-looking puddles would have been close to rank.
The sensations rolling across my skin seemed to reach a peak. Once again both the Dušan and the charm at my neck reacted, the latter burning so fiercely it cast the figure of the man who suddenly appeared into stark relief.
Fear stirred briefly. There was something very wrong with this man. Yet he wasn't evil. Just wrong.
I resisted the urge to retreat and studied him as intently as he seemed to be studying me. He still had no facial features, but lank hair that seemed to merge with the shadows around us covered half his brow, and he was dressed casually in faded jeans and an Adidas sweater. For some reason, that struck me as odd. I hadn't noticed his hair last time, let alone his clothes, and I suddenly wondered why I was doing so now.
Was it deliberate on his part? Because he certainly didn't look comfortable in them.
You came. His voice, as before, held little in the way of emotion, and yet I had an odd sense of amusement.
For the second time that day, I said, It's not like I had any other choice.