“Well, holy shit,” Petra said, looking at the map of crossing red and blue lines she’d pulled up. “It totally does. It’s not part of the marked Pedway,” she said, gesturing to the screen. “That’s why the section is yellow. But if you could find the access points, I bet you could get in.”
“I bet you don’t even need to look for them,” I said and glanced back at them. “They aren’t the first vampires to stay at the Portman. I bet Pedway access is something they use to sell vampires on staying there. Move around the city without fear of sunlight or something.”
There was a gleam in Roger’s eyes now, and he nodded at me. “Good, Lis. That’s good.” He looked at Petra. “You make that call. Theo, see if we can get security feed in the hotel or tower near the access point. Maybe that will give us an ID.”
Maybe it would give us something.
* * *
* * *
I sent Connor a message, assuring him I was on my way and that Roger was giving me a ride. He was out on Pack business, he responded, and said he’d meet me at the NAC building. Traffic was light, and we made good time across the city.
I recognized the roar as we neared the building; sure enough, Thelma came toward us from the opposite direction. Low and dark, its rider equally so.
Yuen had nearly reached the curb when I heard it. The sudden acceleration, the screeching of tires. And saw in the side mirror the white sedan that turned onto the street somewhere behind us and was now barreling toward us.
No, I realized with horror. Barreling toward Connor.
My heart simply . . . stopped. In that second, the world slowed, Connor nearly to the curb, the sedan racing, the driver’s hair color—blond—the only thing I could see.
And when time snapped back again, I had the door open and was out of the car before Yuen had even come to a stop. I heard his shout behind me, his confusion, but screamed toward Thelma. Screamed toward him. “Connor! Move!”
Still wearing his helmet, his head popped up to find me, then behind to find the threat, and I saw the brace of his shoulders.
I’d never known fear before. Never known real and icy terror until I’d seen him realize a vehicle was bearing down and there was nowhere to go.
He leaned to his right, bringing Thelma into a slow skid that put bike between shifter and sedan. Undeterred, the car struck. Metal met metal, met concrete, met man as the vehicle spun Thelma around, taking Connor along for the ride. They hit the sidewalk, then the building wall, and the car accelerated, took off.
Tires squealed as Yuen slammed his door closed, sped after it.
It was the monster that gave me the push to move, that sent me running across the street, just as shifters—drawn by the noise—emerged from the building to investigate. Curses, then they were lifting Thelma, the back of its frame half-crushed, the back wheel nearly folded in half.
I hit my knees, ignored the sting of concrete against tender skin, and unbuckled his helmet. “Connor.”
“Hold his head,” someone said, and I nodded, kept his head and torso steady while they pulled away his helmet.
His eyes were closed, his body still.
“Connor.”
Nothing. Seconds passed, but it felt like hours.
Then brilliant blue eyes blinked at me. “What . . . the fuck . . . was that?”
* * *
* * *
“A sedan,” I told him, when he’d refused an ambulance and was sitting up against the building. He’d let me check him for injuries, and I felt nothing broken. He had plenty of scrapes, and probably some broken ribs I couldn’t feel.
“Whose fucking sedan?”
We looked back, found Gabriel in the doorway, rage in his expression. “Whose fucking sedan?” he asked again, moving closer, gaze on his son, his child.
“Don’t know,” Connor said, pushing a hand through his hair. “Maybe an AAM asshole. Maybe some other asshole.”
“Yuen was dropping me off,” I said. “He followed the car.”
Gabriel crouched in front of Connor, looked him over. He touched a hand to his son’s face, his brow, looked relieved that his only son was still alive. And furious that someone had tried to take him away.
“You’ll shift,” Gabriel said, a prediction and an order. “And you’ll heal.”
“I will,” Connor said and offered his father a hand. Father pulled son to his feet, gave him a moment to steady himself.
“Inside,” Gabriel said. He looked back at Thelma. “And get that into the garage.”
* * *
* * *
The Pack wasn’t shy, but nor did it want to spill Pack business out on a public street. Gabe sent most everyone back to work, and those who remained, mostly family, to the lounge.
“Shift,” he told Connor. “And let’s discuss.”
Connor nodded. “We’ll be in.”
When we were alone, I looked back at him, afraid to touch him for fear of causing pain. “You’re all right?”
He looked around to ensure we were alone. To ensure, I thought, that whatever weakness he was about to admit was for my ears only.
“I took a hit,” he admitted, “but I’ll be fine. Shifting is going to hurt like a son of a bitch.” And he winced at the thought. “But once that’s done, it’ll only be bruises and aches. Thelma’s going to need more work than me.”
“I’m sorry for that, too.”
He nodded. “Did you see who was driving?”
I shook my head. “I got a glimpse of blond hair. I think it was a guy, but it was too dark to see anything else.”
Jonathan Black had blond hair, and he’d gotten into a white sedan at the OMB. But why would he have tried to hurt Connor right after trying to convince me to accept a favor from his clients?
“I haven’t heard from Yuen,” I said. “Did you see anything? Or anyone?”
“Just the damned car,” he said, wincing as he rolled his shoulder.
Raised voices—some concerned, some angry—echoed down the hallway.
“The Pack’s going to have a lot to say about vampires. But you have nothing to fear,” he murmured and kissed my temple. “Don’t let them push you. Show the monster if you have to, but no fear.”
That he was trying to help me face down the Pack after what had just happened . . . I didn’t have words for my gratitude. So I nodded, sucked it up, and promised myself I could let it out later.