"Be careful, Jake. I really don't like the feel of this."
"Oh, great. Maybe I'll call the cops, just to be safe."
"And tell them what? I've a got feeling?” When it came to her psychic abilities, skepticism ran high within the police department. It was doubtful if a statement like that would get anything other than laughter. Jake grunted. “Don't do anything stupid until I get there." Meaning she could do something stupid after he got there? She grinned, though it didn't ease the tension knotting her stomach.
The street narrowed, and the warehouses on either side seemed to loom in on her. She skirted several Dumpsters and screwed up her nose. From the amount of rubbish overflowing onto the street, they hadn't been emptied for several weeks. Combine that with the heat of the last few days, and the result was stomach turning.
Matthew stopped. She ducked behind a stinking Dumpster and held her nose as she peered around the side. He was studying the buildings on either side, but after a few seconds he turned and ran at the fence on the left. She waited until he'd disappeared over the top and moved after him.
"He's just climbed a fence. Third warehouse from the end."
"Wait for me."
"I might lose him if I do."
Jake swore. “Damn it, be careful."
"You be careful. I'm not the one who can die here."
"But you're not immortal either, and I'm more than a little certain Michael didn't tell you everything about his gift of life everlasting."
She smiled grimly. Michael had never told her more than what he thought she needed to know. Bare facts, nothing more—especially when it came to anything concerning his past or what he did for a living.
"I'm heading over."
She grabbed the chain link and pulled herself over the fence. Dropping to the ground on the other side, she crouched, her gaze sweeping the darkness. It had to be some sort of produce warehouse—packing crates were lined in neat rows, those closest containing limp remnants of lettuce leaves. Matthew could have gone anywhere. She stayed where she was, listening intently. The wind moaned through the silence, raising the hairs on the back of her neck. She rubbed her arms, then reached down, withdrawing a knife from her right boot. Made of the purest silver, it was one of two she'd had specially designed after her little dance with Jasper. If an old kitchen knife with only the smallest amount of silver in it could stop him , her new knives should stop just about anything. That's what she was hoping, anyway. From the right came a soft, metallic squeal. She rose, padding quickly through the rows of crates. An old brick building loomed through the darkness. She stopped at the end of the row and peered out. To her left were several large entrances, all shuttered. To the right, nothing but brick wall. The sound had come from around the corner.
She ran to the wall, then edged forward and looked around the corner. Matthew's sandals were disappearing through a window.