Page 67 of Shield of Fire

He smiled and patted my shoulder. “No, this place is chock full of all sorts of electronic redirects. Whoever placed this will know you’re in the area but not exactly where. There’s a bus stop down the end—may I suggest you start your escape there?”

I grabbed my purse and jacket and then rose. “Thank you for the help.”

He smiled. “I owe Sgott more than a few favors, so it’s the least I can do. Say hello to the big man for me when you see him.”

“I will.” I’d also be asking him about Harry, because I suspected there’d be a good story behind their friendship.

He opened the front door, then plucked my jacket from me and handed me a bulky, rather garish-looking blue one instead.

“More conspicuous is definitely less so in a case like this,” he said with a smile. “They’ll be looking for your black coat, not this.”

“You’ve done this before, from the sound of it.”

“Always be prepared is a necessary motto when you work with the IIT. You never know what they might throw at you.”

I laughed, thanked him again, and headed out. The night was cold, and the threat of rain so sharp that I could almost taste it. I was alone on the street, and there was no traffic, though I could hear it in the distance.

I shivered my way into the coat, then shoved my hands into its pockets and hurried down the street. A bus came along just as the rain started. I had no idea where it was headed, but it didn’t really matter. I tucked the tube deep into the gap between my seat and the next, waited for several stops, and then tugged my hood over my head and got out.

The bus drove on. I hunched over in an effort to downplay my height, and casually walked into the nearby side street. I was barely a dozen steps in when the back of my neck tingled. I resisted the urge to turn around and crossed the road instead, risking a sneaky glance back. A brown sedan was briefly spotlighted by the streetlight on the corner. In the passenger seat was a red-haired, dark-skinned man.

Not only had they been following me, but they’d picked the signal up really quickly.

I had ten minutes, if that, before the signal died and they realized they’d been played. I had to get the hell out of the area before that happened.

I pulled out my phone, checked Google Maps to see where exactly I was, then ordered an Uber to meet me outside a pizza place two streets away. It arrived the same time as I did, so I jumped in and headed for the address Eljin had sent. Thankfully, it was outside Swansea’s main business center and well away from my current position.

The rain’s ferocity had increased by the time I reached my destination, the droplets dancing off the road surface as sharply as hail. I tugged my hood over my hair and walked toward the path leading deeper into the woods. The old trees lining either side of the well-lit path filled the air with a joyous rain song, and it washed through my being, momentarily sweeping away everything else—all my worries, all my concerns, all my tiredness.

I breathed it deep and simply enjoyed.

Our accommodation was a small cabin that had been built around the trunk of an ancient oak so carefully there was no interference to the old tree’s song. And it wasn't alone—there were at least six other treehouses farther down the path.

External lights flickered on as I stepped onto the ramp that wound up the outside of the structure, and a few seconds later, the door opened and Eljin stepped out.

“I was starting to worry.”

“Had a few problems.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him hungrily. “Gannon was killed, and I was bio bugged.”

Shock ran through him, so thick I could taste it. “Why on earth would someone put a tracker on you?”

“They’re searching for the same thing I am—the shield—so why not use me to make their task easier?”

“How did you remove it then? They’re in-skin things and hard to trace, from what I’ve read.”

“They are, but thankfully, Sgott knew someone in the area who specializes in that sort of thing.”

“Which is where you got that rather garish coat, I take it? Because that’s not the one you were wearing when I last saw you, and it doesn’t look like something you’d willingly purchase—unless my admittedly meager knowledge of your tastes is way off.”

I grinned. “There is nothing meager about you, my dear man, including your tastes.”

He laughed and ushered me into a room that comprised a kitchenette, a bed large enough to party in, and a multitude of windows that looked out into the canopy. The walls were lined with untreated wood that sang in gentle accompaniment to the oak, and there was a big old bath sitting in front of double-width glass doors that opened onto a small balcony. The bathroom was the only separate room in the cabin.

“This is lovely,” I said. “Shame we’re here only for the night.”

“Perhaps we should consider it a precursor for an extended holiday at some point in the near future. Drink?”

“Please.” I stripped off my coat, hung it over the hook to dry, and then followed him into the room. “How’s Loudon?”

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