she whispers. She marches forward, her high heel boots clacking against the uneven pavement. She says nothing about the person lurking in the shadows, but she does not need to. Nicolae has noticed. Roseline caught the scent three blocks back, not long after disembarking from the Hummer. It curls around her nose, taunting her with delicious mystery. She cannot place the scent. It is not human. Nor does it belong to an immortal. Slush rises around their boots as they cross the street. The damp wetness glides down the slick knee high leather of Roseline’s boots. Nicolae swears as his biker boot clomps down into a hole, spraying tainted slush onto his pants. “Typical,” he snorts, brushing away the muck. “Shh,” Roseline hisses, pulling him close. He stumbles after her, struggling to keep up with her pace. “We are almost there.” The sound of a footfall pulls her glance backward, across the street. Her eyes narrow in on a misplaced shadow. “Did you see something?”
