yell.
“Get down!”
Tara whirled and saw a figure standing halfway between her and the coffee shop, pointing an object that looked like a gun directly at her. It was the man from the coffee shop, no longer in cat form. She had never seen him before in her life but she knew he intended to kill her.
All this registered in a split second. Without thinking, she dove under the nearest car, as a strange sound zinged through the air. She felt a crackle of electricity, almost like the electrical shock she’d received two days before. From beneath the vehicle she saw the man’s feet as he ran toward her. Did he just fire that odd-looking gun at her? She heard Marshall’s voice again.
“Stop! Back away.”
She slid out a tiny bit to see Marshall pointing a weapon at the man.
“You’re not going to shoot me,” he said, then pointed his odd-looking gun behind Marshall. “You do, and I’ll blow up that building and everyone in it, I swear.”
The man kept the weapon pointed at Marshall and backed away, then turned and ran.
Marshall started to run after him, but stopped and headed toward Tara instead.
“Are you all right?” he asked as she dragged herself out from under the vehicle.
“I’m fine, don’t worry about me. Go get him!”
Marshall sprinted to his vehicle, his gaze turned toward the fleeing assassin. Tara jogged over to join Marshall.
“There,” she pointed. “I see him.” She pulled the door handle.
“What are you doing? Get out of here.” Marshall jumped in and started his Jeep.
“No, I’m going with you. It was me he was shooting at.” She hopped in. “Go!”
“You can’t come with me—it’s against regulations. Get out of my car!”
“We don’t have time to argue. He’s getting away.”
Marshall exhaled loudly but put the car in reverse and started to back up. He suddenly slammed on the brakes and Tara jerked forward.
“Shit!” He smacked the steering wheel and Tara looked out the back window. A large Cadillac with a short, white-haired driver was inching out of the spot directly behind Marshall’s car, blocking him in. Though Tara longed to lean on the horn, she knew it would do no good. The little old woman would either have a heart attack or would reduce her pace even more just for spite.
Slowly, slowly she drove. Tara saw Marshall’s jaw tense and could almost hear his teeth grind. He finally had enough room to get out, and just as he backed up, the would-be assassin’s car drove past. He flipped them the bird as he flew down the road.
Marshall cursed.
“Aren’t you going to go after him?” Tara asked.
“He’s gone. There’s no way I can catch him now. Besides, he’s not the real problem.”
“Oh? Someone shooting at me isn’t a problem? I kind of think it is. What is the real problem?”
“The fact that you can see us is a huge fucking problem.”
“See who? You need to fill me in and there’s no need to curse at me.” Tara crossed her arms, partly in anger and partly to keep Marshall from seeing how hard her hands were shaking.
“Yes, we do need to talk.” Marshall put the vehicle in drive and moved forward.
“What are you doing? I need to go back to my car.”
“You’re not going anywhere until I figure out what’s going on. I have to check in with headquarters.”
“Where are you taking me?”
“My house. It’s not far from here.” He settled back with a grim expression on his face.
“I don’t want to go to your house. Let me out of here right now.” Tara tugged the door handle. In retrospect, hopping into this stranger’s car had not been the best idea, but she’d been so pissed and anxious to catch her assailant she hadn’t thought of the consequences.
“This is for your own safety. Stop pulling that, you’re going to break it. The door is locked. Now be quiet so I can concentrate.”
Tara opened her mouth to protest further, but a look at Marshall stilled her. He frowned with cold fury and though he still had his sunglasses on, she was sure his eyes were as dark as a moonless night. She leaned back in the seat and focused on getting her breathing back to normal. Her heart raced, and to her annoyance she felt tears prick her eyes as the reality of the situation hit her. She could have been killed! She bit them back, determined not to show weakness in front of this man.
After several minutes of slow inhalations, a degree of calm settled in.
“Can you at least tell me who you are?” she asked as they sat at a stoplight.
To her surprise, he took off his shades, turned in her direction and looked at her with those remarkable green eyes. Though his mouth was still tight, his expression softened a bit.
“I will, I promise. Right now I want to get you to my house where you’ll be safe. What exactly did you see at the coffee shop?”
“A gigantic cat, sort of. It looked like a cheetah, but still like a man.”
Marshall sighed and put his glasses back on. “Not good.”
The rest of the short trip was spent in silence.
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