He wasn't Thierry. He wasn't anything like Thierry. Except for the way he moved.
It was that same rippling grace she'd seen in both Thierry and Maya, an easy control of motion that reminded her of a jungle cat. And his face ... he was almost eerily good-looking in a ragamuffin way.
When he glanced up toward the Stardust's tall neon sign, she thought she could see light reflect from his eyes.
He's one of them. I know it. He's one of the Night People.
Without stopping to think, she jumped up, slung her bag over her shoulder, and followed him.
It wasn't easy. He walked fast and she had to keep dodging tourists. He was headed off the Strip, to one of the quiet dimly-lit streets that ran parallel to it.
It was a whole different world here, just one block away from the glitter and bustle. The hotels were, small and in poor repair. The businesses seemed to be mostly pawnshops. Everything had a dingy depressed feeling.
Hannah felt a prickling down her spine.
She was now following the only figure on a deserted street. Any minute now, he'd realize she was tailing him-but what could she do? She didn't dare lose sight of him.
The boy seemed to be leading her into worse and worse areas-sleazy was the word for them, Hannah thought. The streetlights were far apart here with areas of darkness in between.
All at once he took a sharp left turn, seeming to disappear behind a building with a sign that read, Dan's Bail Bonds. Hannah jogged to catch up to him and found herself staring down a narrow alley. It was extremely dark. She hesitated a moment, then grimly took a few steps forward.
On the third step, the boy appeared from behind a Dumpster.
He was facing her, and once again Hannah caught the flash of eyeshine. She stood very still as he walked slowly toward her.
"You following me or something?" he asked. He seemed amused. He had a sharp face with an almost pointed chin and dark hair that looked uncombed. He was no taller than Hannah, but his body seemed tough and wiry.
It's the Artful Dodger, Hannah thought.
As he reached her, he looked her up and down. His expression was a combination of lechery and hunger. Gooseflesh blossomed on Hannah's skin.
"I'm sorry," she said, trying to make her voice quiet and direct. "I was following you. I wanted to ask you something-I'm looking for someone."
"You found him, baby," the boy said. He darted a quick glance around as if to make sure that there was nobody in the alley with them.
And then, before Hannah could say another word, he knocked her into the wall and pinned her there.
Chapter 13
Don't fight," he panted into her face. "It'll be easier if you just relax."
Hannah was frightened-and furious. "In your dreams!" she gasped and slammed a knee into his groin.
She hadn't survived Maya and come thousands of miles to be killed by some weasel of a vampire.
She could feel him trying to do something to her mind-it reminded her of the way Maya had captured Ha-nahkt's eyes. Some kind of hypnosis, she supposed. But she'd had enough of hypnosis in the last week. She fought it.
And she fought with her body, unskillfully maybe, but with utter conviction. She head-butted him on the nose when he tried to get close to her neck.
"Ow!" The Artful Dodger jerked back. Then he got a better grip on her arm. He pulled the wrist toward him and Hannah suddenly realized what he was doing. There were nice accessible veins there. He was going to draw blood from her wrist.
"No, you don't," she gasped. She had no idea what would happen if she lost any more blood to a vampire. Thierry had said she wasn't in danger as long as she kept away from them for the next week, so she presumed that if she didn't stay away, she was in danger. And she was already noticing little changes in herself: her ability to see better in the dark, for instance.
She tried to wrench her arm out of the boy's grip- and then she heard a gasp. Suddenly she realized that he wasn't holding her as tightly, and he wasn't trying to pull her wrist to him. Instead he was just staring at her hand.
At her ring.
The expression on his face might have been funny if Hannah hadn't been shaking with adrenaline. He looked shocked, dismayed, scared, disbelieving, and embarrassed all at once.
"Who-who-who are you?" he spluttered.
Hannah looked at the ring, and then at him. Of course. How could she have been so stupid? She should have mentioned Thierry right away. If he was a Lord of the Night World, maybe everybody knew him.
Maybe she could skip the witches altogether.
"I told you I was looking for somebody. His name is Thierry Descouedres. He gave me this ring."
The Artful Dodger gave a kind of moan. Then he looked up at her from under his spiky bangs. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" he said. It wasn't a question, it was a demand for agreement. "I didn't do anything to you."
"You didn't get the chance," Hannah said. But she was afraid the boy might just take off running, so she added, "I don't want to get you in trouble. I just want to find Thierry. Can you help me?"
"I ... help you. Yeah, yeah. I can be a big help.-" He hesitated, then said, "It's kind of a long walk."
A walk? Thierry was here? Hannah's heart leaped so high that her whole body felt light.
"I'm not tired," she said, and it was true. "I can walk anywhere."
The house was enormous.
Magnificent. Palatial, even. Awe-inspiring.
The Artful Dodger abandoned Hannah at the beginning of the long palm-tree-lined drive, blurting, "That's it," and then scampering off into the darkness. Hannah looked after him for a moment, then grimly started up the drive, sincerely hoping that it was it. She was so tired that she was weaving and her feet felt as if they'd been pounded with stones.