Page 75 of Teeth To Rip & Tear

“Got who?” Wyatt shook his head.

Mitchell looked down the alley, his brow furrowed. “We’re burning time. Come on.”

Though I’d said the same thing, they all listened to Mitchell instead of me.

The buildings were too tall, and the streetlights too bright. Even though the sun had set, there wasn’t a star in the sky. There were too many people on the street. In Locket, the roads were quiet once the sun set, except when the bars closed and people poured home.

I wasn’t expecting how dangerous it felt; even walking down the street surrounded by four men, every long look from a passer-by made me feel oddly exposed.

I stopped walking, staring at the golden dragons held up by scaffolding perched across the street. I’d never seen anything like it. There was a single Chinese restaurant in Locket, but Joel had always refused to go in, citing something called MSG.

A red smear blurred at the edge of my vision. I rubbed the corner of my eye, wondering if the bright street lights were getting to me. The trail of red lights danced down a side street. The sparkly color bunny hopped, hanging in the air.

The sign read ‘Chinatown’. The entrance was built like the front of a pagoda, with swooping lips at the roof's edge. Hundreds of red paper lanterns hung from invisible strings, forming a canopy over the street.

I’d stared at the Golden Noodle on Main Street for years and wished I could eat there. I’d never realized that LA had an entire neighborhood of restaurants that made the Noodle look like a hole in the wall.

I wasn’t an adventurous eater, but we passed a window with printed pictures of various dishes. Colorful rice and different buns. My mouth watered.

I drew a few looks; maybe people thought I was a celebrity with bodyguards—surrounded by four men who looked ready to attack anyone who looked at me the wrong way.

Or maybe they thought we were a cult. After all, we all wore the same shapeless linen clothes.

The trail stopped in front of a statue of Bruce Lee. Surrounded by a barrier and some tape to keep tourists away. I turned on the spot, trying to see if I could spot the manticore—not that I would know what to look for. I’d never seen something part lion or part scorpion before.

How had the durrach made its way through the street without causing a riot?

None of it made any sense.

“What do you see?” Kaleb stepped up to my side.

“The trail finishes here.” I frowned. “I can’t see anything else.”

Kaleb tapped his nose. “I’ll take over. Dean, you stay here with Mallory.” He turned to the other two wolves. Mitchell and Wyatt. “Split up. It can’t have gotten far.”

The other wolves nodded before melting into the crowd.

Soon, it was just Dean and me.

“You bought the embroidery floss,” I murmured, keeping my eyes fixed on the humans passing by. “How did you know?”

He chuffed a laugh. “You spent almost half an hour at the stall.”

“You chose well. It’s good quality thread.”

“You’re welcome.” He said, responding to my unspoken thank you. “I see you’ve gotten to work already.”

I brushed my fingers against the ferns sewn into the collar of my shirt. I bit back a smile and pulled the woven bracelet from my wrist. I held it out. “It’s not much, but I’d like you to have this,” I told him. “I felt like myself for the first time in...a while. Because of you.”

Dean’s smile was tentative. Shy. He reached for the bracelet, and though it was just a braided piece of thread, he studied it like a fine piece of treasure. I wasn’t sure it would fit. His wrists were bigger than mine. But I needn’t have worried, as it slipped over his large hand and sat snug without complaint.

“Mallory,” Dean reached out and placed his hand over mine. “I—" Dean’s attention snagged on something in the darkness. “We need to get out of the open.” He growled, eying the rooftops and the neon glowing signs in Chinese characters.

The hairs on my arms lifted, and the world washed crimson with magic, like a filter over my vision. I nodded my agreement as Dean took my hand and pushed through the crowd—past a jazz club, restaurants, and shop windows. We reached a painted wall with scaffolding and construction materials visible from the other side. Dean bent down, knitting his fingers together to form a step.

My cheeks burned, and my breath came hard and fast, unused to the exercise. Dean boosted me over the wall, and though the drop hurt my knees when I hit the ground, I was relatively unscathed, save for the red coating of my vision.

A moment later, Dean landed at my side.

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