Alpha Omega 02 - Hunting Ground

witch’s cleaning spell. When lifted to his nose, it smelled faintly of burning flesh and vampire.
    The other four shoes were new and smelled of leather, dye, and, lightly, of Anna. One pair was low-heeled pumps and the other red leather and high-heeled, the kind women wore for men.
    Charles could care less about shoes—and he suspected he wasn’t alone among men in his feelings. Shoe, no shoe, he didn’t care. Naked was good, though over the past couple of weeks he was beginning to think that dressed in his clothes was a decent second best.
    Even smiling at the thought of Anna in his sweater, he didn’t slow down his hunt. He tracked the edge of the witch’s spell until he found the trail the vampires had left—not difficult, as at least one of them was bleeding badly. He let his nose go to work, then he had no smile left in him.
    A vampire, he’d thought, or possibly two. His nose now told him there had been more than that. He caught six individual scents. Six vampires who’d been after his Anna.
    And he wondered if she’d been as honest as he thought when she told him she was all right. The pink shoe broke in his hand, and he dropped it. He was growling again as he followed the vampires to a parking garage—space number forty-six.
    Four minutes, and a little intimidation—not difficult, the way he was feeling—and he found that the space had been paid for six months but occupied only now and then.
    No way to tell if the vampires were connected to the person who rented the space or if they’d just found an empty space to use. He was inclined to suspect the latter. They weren’t planning on being there long, and the cars were checked every two hours.
    â€œYeah,” the man—not much older than a boy, really—said. He wasn’t looking at Charles now, and not doing so had allowed him to calm down a little. “Someone came boiling out of here like they were fit to be tied. I remember it because it was a minivan, a blue Dodge—not the kind of vehicle you roar out of town in. I didn’t notice it coming in, but I did the vehicle check when I started work tonight. I don’t remember a minivan except Mrs. Sullivan’s parked in here when I did it.”
    Charles wasn’t concerned about that. Mind tricks that work on humans were among the most common gifts of the vampires. If they’d told the attendant not to remember, he wouldn’t have.
    â€œTell me about the minivan.”
    â€œThree men and a woman. They all looked like FBI, you know? Expensive and conservative.” The man looked up at Charles. “Are you a cop or something? Shouldn’t you show me some ID?”
    â€œOr something,” murmured Charles, and the attendant paled and looked away again. Gently, Charles thanked the man for the information and left.
    He could have gotten their faces from the cameras, but there was no need to traumatize the young man further—he had their scent, and he would not forget. If not today, then eventually he would run into them—the world was not that large to a man who lived forever. When he found them at last, he would remember this night to them.
    When he reached the place where the attack had occurred, he stopped and put Anna’s new shoes in the plastic bag and took them with him. There had been no blood, no meat at the end of this hunt—and Brother Wolf was not satisfied. Not in the least.
    By the time he made it to the hotel, he’d gotten a semblance of control. It would have to do.
    Â 
    Â 
    ANGUS was sitting on the floor in front of their room, reading a newspaper. He didn’t look like much of a guardian, but there were few other wolves Charles would rather have guarding his mate’s door. There wasn’t much that would be able to get past the old wolf who ruled Seattle.
    â€œSomething interesting in the paper?” Charles asked politely.
    â€œNot really, no.” Angus folded the paper back into its original shape with economical precision, then got to his feet. He kept his face averted and down. Not slow on the uptake, was the Alpha of the Emerald City Pack. Charles might have his game face on—but any wolf worth his salt would smell the frustration of a failed hunt on him from twenty feet out.
    â€œYour mate was worried about allowing anyone in before you got here. With Tom mostly down and out, and Moira—”
    â€œâ€”without enough magic to light a