"If he’s a rat shifter, he’s probably the one in the basement."
He nodded and advanced. I followed, sorting through the scents that filled this place as I did. It smelled of age, refuse, and unwashed humanity. I couldn’t sense a shifter, but if he was down in the basement, then maybe the heavier aromas of oil and machinery were masking his scent.
No one came out to see who we were, although I did hear several movements. Maybe the homeless feared we were the police, sent to roust them out of their free lodging.
The stairs loomed out of the shadows. Valdis’s light died, although if the man we were hunting was a shifter, then he’d smell and hear us coming long before the sword’s brightness could announce us.
Azriel led the way down into the deeper darkness. I kept close to his back, the heat of him washing across my body and somehow making me feel more secure. When we hit the end of the stairs, the darkness became so complete I was virtually blind. I touched Azriel’s shoulder, not wanting to lose him as we continued on.
Gossamer brushed across my face and I bit back my squeak of fright. A web—sans spider, hopefully, I thought with a shudder. Critters that possessed eight legs were definitely not on my favorites list.
Our quarry is on the move, Azriel said, his words warm as they whispered into my brain.
Stop laughing at my phobia. I might not be telepathic, but that apparently didn’t stop him from hearing my thoughts loud and clear.
A point he’d proved time and again.
I wasn’t laughing. I am merely bemused that anyone could fear a creature so small.
Australia has some of the deadliest creatures on the planet, I retorted, and most of them are tiny!
It was an empty web that touched your face, and you squeaked, he said, mirth still very evident. Our quarry is now running.
Should we?
He can’t escape. I have a sense of his soul now.
And I had his scent. It was musty, sharp, and definitely rat-like.