He reached the Hancock Building, its sharp gray glass ribboned in black, and turned toward the river again. I guessed his strategy—if he couldn’t beat me in a straight-line race, he’d head into the buildings and alleys of Streeterville, try to lose me there.
He was twenty yards ahead of me. He passed a trash can, paused just long enough to push it over into my path. I vaulted it, landed smoothly again, and kept running.
“Try that again, asshole!” I yelled, ignoring the shouts of humans who jumped out of the way of our chase. Someone would inevitably call nine-one-one, probably while filming the damn thing. That was fine by me, as long as I got to him first.
Unfortunately, he turned and pulled a handgun. He’d been smart enough not to waste bullets on Nadia, probably thinking the Taser would be more effective. A single shot was highly unlikely to kill a vampire, but it sure wouldn’t feel good.
He kept moving, slinging his arm behind him to get off shots. He fired twice, the bullets flying to my right and above my head. His aim wasn’t great, but it was good enough to send me to the ground for cover while he dodged into an alley.
“Shit,” I muttered, and climbed to my feet again, pulling the dagger from my boot and running toward the gap between buildings.
I crouched at the edge, trying to remember Luc’s handgun training, which had been a pretty slim lesson compared to the blade work, and how many shots would have been in the magazine. Maybe seven, maybe ten, maybe fifteen, depending on the gun and whether he had extras.
Long story short, I’d be dodging bullets for a while.
I peeked around the corner, just long enough to see Ginger heading through the brick-lined alley toward the next street, and ducked back again as two bullets whizzed past me.
That was four, I thought. Not that counting them would give me any real indication of how much firepower he had left, but the act helped settle my nerves, at least enough to get me moving again.
I dove into the alley, let the first Dumpster take the brunt of three more bullets.
“You keep shooting at me,” I yelled out, “and we won’t be able to have a nice conversation about why you attacked that vampire.”
“Why don’t you bite me, bitch?”
“Sticks and stones!” I yelled back, and waited for sound. There were footsteps this time, but no bullets, so I glanced around, saw the coast was clear, and hauled ass to the end of the alley so I didn’t lose him on the next street.
Squinting, I darted into sudden lights and people, as a stream of humans dumped out of the open doors of a ten-screen movie theater. I pushed between them, spied the red-haired perp dodging cars to cross the street, and took off after him.
A taxi honked as I dashed across in front of it, the driver swearing at me with a fist out the window.
“I’m chasing a murderer!” I yelled back, exaggerating a little, but hitting the truth close enough.
I made it across the street in one miraculous piece, raced across a concrete courtyard in front of a skyscraper that gleamed with blue and red lights. They cast a colorful glow across the ground, highlighted the runner as he dodged tourists and late-night workers, shoving them into one another to create obstacles for me.
He darted into a long, narrow park bound on both ends by circle drives. The southern circle dropped down to the river; the northern one dropped to lower Illinois Street.
He ran to the southern end of the park, turned back to me, grabbed his crotch. “Why don’t you come and get this?”
What a class act.
“Because I’ve seen bigger,” I said dryly, stepping onto grass still soft from the winter snowmelt and walking toward him. I spun the dagger in my hand, watched his eyes widen as it caught the light. “But I know how to get dirty if that’s what you want.”
“Oh, I bet you do.”
“Who do you work for?”
“Fuck you.” His tone was as mean as his gaze. He didn’t know me or anything about me, but I was his enemy, and he didn’t care if I lived or died.
“Not in a million years. Do you work for the Circle?”
“You think it’ll be that easy?”
I shrugged casually. “I’m pretty sure I just chased you across Streeterville and managed to keep up.”
I flipped the dagger rhythmically through my fingers as casually as I might have scratched an itch, watching him, waiting for a lean or movement that would signal his next move.
“Not bad for a girl.”
“That’s what the last guy said—right before I kicked his ass.” I beckoned him forward, dipped my chin, smiled thinly. “If you’re so manly, come and get me.”
Sirens began to wail nearby. Someone had called the cops; I could only hope Ethan had managed to contact my grandfather, ask him to intercept. It wouldn’t do to have vampires arrested tonight, too.
Ginger didn’t want any part of cops. He feinted left, then barreled forward. But I’d been distracted by the sirens, caught the fake too late, shifted my weight too slowly. I jumped for him, extending my body, managed to grab his legs and bring him down. He kicked out, boot connecting with my cheekbone and sending a bolt of bright pain across my face. He jumped up and took off again.
I blinked back tears, but without pausing to think, relied on muscle memory and flipped my dagger toward him.
It connected, lodging in the back of his thigh. He cursed feverishly and hit the concrete on his knees, then yanked the blade out and tossed it away. Gaze narrowed, spittle at the corners of his mouth, he rose again, limping as he vaulted down the stairs to the road below.