He'd said that if he'd known what was happening at the time when whoever it was started influencing me, he could have discovered their identity.
I think he planned on trying to force a confession tonight--and if he couldn't, he would wait until they tried it again.
If that was his motivation, I approved in spirit, but at the same time, I really didn't want to wait around until someone tried to make me do their bidding again.
I parked in the corner of the Uptown parking lot where an all- night restaurant was located.
There weren't a lot of cars there but enough that the Rabbit didn't stand out.
I opened Sam's door and he sniffed the air carefully.
"Are you scenting for the fae woman who was here today?" I asked.
He didn't give me any kind of answer, just shook himself and looked at me expectantly--as if he really were the dog we were pretending he was.
Was he slower? Did his tail droop more than usual? Or was I letting Charles's words make me paranoid? I glanced at him and was pretty sure it was both.
Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean you aren't right.
He wasn't quite as responsive, either, as if it took him a moment to translate words into meanings.
I didn't notice anyone who seemed to be watching us as we crossed the parking lot--but we were out where people could see us.
All I could do was act as if I weren't breaking into the shop.
It took me two full minutes to crack the lock on the door of the bookstore, which was about one and a half minutes longer than I was comfortable standing there with my back to the parking lot and the busy street beyond.
I was hopeful that someone from the street couldn't tell that I was playing with my lockpicks instead of fumbling with a stiff lock.
There was a bar that was still open about three stores over, but no one had come or gone while I struggled.
Sheer good luck, something I couldn't always count on.
I was going to have to get some practice in if I kept having to break into buildings.
The door handle turned, and I started to move on to the dead bolt, when I realized that the door had popped open when I'd unlocked the handle.
Someone hadn't engaged the dead bolt.
I held the door for Sam, then slipped inside myself.
He couldn't shut the door--and if there was something unfriendly in the store, he was better able to deal with it.
I turned the dead bolt and looked around.
My eyesight is good in the dark, so we didn't need to attract even more attention by turning on the light.
It was darker in the store than it was outside and the windows were already tinted, so it would be hard for anyone looking to see anything but the reflection of the outside lights.
At first I observed a neat and tidy store that smelled of incense and old books.
Paper holds the memory of any strong scent, so in a used bookstore, it wasn't uncommon to get little trickles of food, tobacco, and perfume.
I took a deep breath to see if I could find anything that stood out.
Blood and fear and rage are a little out of the ordinary.
I stopped where I was and sucked in several deep breaths.