With a small growl, she got out of the vehicle. He followed, closing the door behind him.
“What are you doing?” she asked, when she reached his side of the SUV.
“Going with you.”
“No. Absolutely not.”
“Yeah, but—”
“In exactly five minutes, you will switch to the driver’s side of the vehicle and start it. You will be ready to drive away from here when I return. Do you understand?”
That seemed reasonable to him, so he replied, “Yeah. Sure.”
“Let me see your watch.”
Grinning, Shay held his arm out for her.
“What is that?”
“My Gumby watch.”
“That looks like a kid’s watch.”
“It is. My dad gave it to me when I was six. I keep changing the band because, ya know . . . I got bigger.”
“Is there a timer on it?”
“On a Gumby wristwatch? No.”
Another sigh. “Gimme your phone.”
He pulled his cell phone from his back pocket and handed it to her.
“Unlock it, Einstein.”
“Oh. Yeah.” He used his thumb and she immediately took the phone back once it opened.
She spent a few seconds looking through his apps before announcing, “You don’t have a timer app on your phone?”
“What do I need that for?”
“I don’t know. For football practice?”
“The coach and Keane tell me what to do and I do it. Then they tell me when to stop, and I stop. What do I need a timer for?”
“Oh, my God,” she muttered before he watched her download a free timer app and set it up, after glancing at her own ridiculous timepiece. It looked like something a three-star general in the Navy would use.
She handed his phone back to him. “It’s on vibrate, so pay attention. When it goes off, get in the car and start it. Understand?”
“Yes. What about security?”
“There isn’t any except the guy at the front desk inside.”
“Are you going to kill him?”
“No.”
“I’ll be really mad if you kill him.”
“I’m not going to kill him.”
“Promise?”
“Oh, my God,” she muttered again before turning away and disappearing around the right side of the building.
*
Tock began to climb the side of the building, using nothing but her hands and feet. She wore gloves to protect her palms and climbing shoes for her feet. She’d been “free soloing” since she was three, when her father found her climbing the side of the house to get inside the room where they kept the family safe. She needed some cash to buy a watch. She loved how the little arms on watches moved and how the device kept one apprised of each second, minute, and hour of the day. Her parents thought her love of time was “cute,” so they’d purchased her a Mickey Mouse watch, which she simply found insulting. She wanted a real watch. Not some ridiculous kiddy watch. So, while her parents were unloading groceries for a big family party, she’d decided to scale the side of their house, get into the room with the safe, break it open, take some money out, and buy herself a good watch. A proper watch.
It never occurred to Tock that her parents might be angry. She just knew what she wanted. So she began scaling. She was halfway up when her father caught her.
“What the hell are you doing?” he’d demanded. Once he got her down, he’d told her, “You never steal from family, baby. If you want something from one of us, you ask.”
She’d held out her arm to silently explain that she had asked. She made sure her face expressed the disdain she felt because she wanted to let him know that she had asked and this was what she’d received.
Her father had smirked. “Got it. Got it.”
And he did. Despite her mother’s disgust at “catering to a three-year-old’s whims,” he’d taken his daughter away from the family party in their backyard and driven her to a special watchmaker. There he’d had a watch put together just for her, one that wasn’t too big for her little wrist but still had the kind of information she wanted and was sturdy. As she outgrew one watch, he’d get her a new one. She never had to ask again. He always knew exactly what she needed and when.
Despite that, though, she still kept learning to climb. She didn’t like ropes and all the gear mountain climbers used. She liked just using her hands and feet. Her ability had gotten better with age and surprisingly helped with her basketball skills. And if she ever slipped, she always had her claws to catch her.
She usually free soloed for fun. Sometimes when she needed a break from her teammates, she decided to climb a tall structure in the middle of nowhere. Or when she needed a little extra cash and decided to take something sparkly from a New York condo or a piece of art that should really be in a museum.
Yet every skill she taught herself or had been taught, her grandmother found a way to use. Most of the time, Tock just said no when orders came in. But her grandmother knew that Tock would never turn down a job if her family was in trouble. So here Tock was. In Maine, of all places. Climbing the side of a building.
Well, at least it wasn’t the middle of a Maine winter. Free soloing was a real test when everything was covered in snow and ice.
Tock reached the fifth floor and used a glass cutter to make a hole in the window that allowed her to slip inside the building.
She silently landed on the floor in a crouch, placed the glass circle carefully to the side, and took a moment to get her breath and her bearings.
Turning her head, she listened for any noise. Sniffed the air, checked for scents. In the end, it was a sound that caught her.
Tock locked on a target a few offices away, pulled her. 40-caliber Sig Sauer, and moved.
*
Shay stared at his cell phone, watching the timer tick down. He knew he could put the phone back in his pocket and wait until it started vibrating, but he didn’t trust that. He’d promised Tock that he would be helpful and helpful meant paying attention and following her orders. It was why he was such a good football player.
So he watched the timer and waited, his back against the wall of the building. Near the glass doors, but not in front of them so the security guy wouldn’t see him. His gaze was focused on the phone but his ears twitched at sounds coming from the other side of the building. Someone was trying to remain quiet but he could still hear them.
He opened his mouth, stuck out his tongue, and breathed in. The scent of multiple full-human males—some of whom had not bathed recently . . . ew—and gun oil filled his senses. He immediately dropped his phone, shifted to tiger, shook off his clothes, and did what he did best.
*
Tock knew exactly which door she needed to go to. It had been in the packet of info her cousin had given her. But she followed the sounds she’d locked on until she reached the right door. She didn’t move in. Because there should be a scent. Actually, there should many scents. And one of them should be from what her grandmother had always called “our secret weapon.” The secret weapon of all honey badgers. Effective on full-humans and shifters alike . . . except wolves. Because wolves were nasty animals that loved a strong anal scent. They might not want to marry you if you were forced to unleash it, but they also didn’t pass out or choke to death. A few had even been known to roll around in it like the disgusting beasts they were.