Circle of Death (37 page)

When there was nothing left but ash, she turned and ran for the stairs. The shifter was safe enough now that the vampire was dead, and with any luck, Gran and she would be well gone by the time he awoke. Because if the hostility he’d projected was anything to go by, it wouldn’t be pleasant to be within a ten-mile radius of the man when he eventually stirred. Especially after she’d knocked him cold.

The moonlight seemed abnormally bright after the shuttered darkness within the warehouse. She blinked and hesitated, searching for some sign of the soul-sucker. Evil was a distant echo, moving away fast.

She shifted shape and flew down the alley, skimming past the cops who raced toward the warehouse. This time, the creature headed for the main
street. Perhaps it hoped the noise and motion might loosen any psychic hold she had on it—which was a definite possibility after all she’d been through tonight.

The soul-sucker hit the street, its ethereal form getting lost in the warm glow of lights. It whisked away to the right, and the psychic leash she had on it snapped with a suddenness that had her plummeting to the ground.

She hit with a grunt, then shifted shape and rolled onto her back, staring up at the moon.

She’d lost it.