“What if there’s more ahead?”

“There’s a lovely little boutique hotel in that lane we just passed. We can spend the rest of the evening there while any would-be attackers up ahead waste time looking for us.”

Which didn’t take care of the overall kidnapping problem, but we could only deal with one situation at a time.

“Stop a moment so I can take off the heels.”

He did so, holding my elbow lightly to help me balance as I removed both shoes and then attached them to my purse. The strap was a thickish chain, so it wouldn’t break easily, even if I was forced to use the bag as a belting weapon. Men generally had little respect for the dangerousness of a purse in the right hands, but then, few realized how much crap women carried in them and just how heavy they could be.

We walked on for several minutes, the cobblestones smooth and cold under my stockinged feet. There was a bit of me that wished I could hear the murmurs of the stone, though not so much because I wanted to know where our trackers currently were but rather what we might be dealing with. Four shifters would be a very different prospect to four humans.

“There’s a walkway just ahead that will take us through a retail courtyard before coming out onto a lane that eventually meets up with Watergate,” Cynwrig murmured. “We’ll take that instead of remaining on the main road.”

Watergate being the street where his apartment was located. “I take it the lane provides a perfect ambush area?”

“It does indeed. Shall we proceed?”

“Definitely. These people need to learn not to fuck with me when I’m on a promise.”

He laughed, a warm, rich sound that ran across the silence and oddly eased the tension in me. We entered the walkway, which wasn’t very long but filled with lovely old Victorian buildings, then on into a lane that was far less enticing.

We quickened our pace, him so lightly he made no sound, and me with only a slight whisper coming from my stocked feet. About halfway up the lane were several large metal dumpsters on wheels, their lids up and both empty. Behind them was a brick wall and a small alcove holding a couple of plastic wheelie bins. Cynwrig lifted them up, placed them beside the metal bins to provide additional cover, and then motioned me into the alcove. The wall was only half-height, so we both had to hunker down to ensure we wouldn’t be seen the minute the four men entered the lane.

I dropped my purse onto the ground and pulled the knives free. They weren’t active, but I nevertheless left them sheathed, just in case they came to life and gave us away at the last moment.

“Where are the men now?” I asked softly.

My pulse rate was sky-high, and tension pounded through me. I was well able to stop a fight, and I could certainly defend myself—Mom had made sure of that, even if my training had been untraditional by most standards. But I’d never actively attacked anyone, and it was... well, scary.