Deep in the heart of New Orleans, Carrington found her quarry. Rather, they found her. Three male Ruslics trailed her at a safe distant; their intent could only be to take her unaware. What fools. She was never unaware, least of all when it came to Ruslics.
The hair on the back of Carrington neck bristled and her nose twitched as the faint smell of musk drifted to her on the gentle breeze. She slipped down a side street into the deeper shadows, leaning against a wall as she waited to see if they would follow. Sure as shit, they did. Shaking her head at their stupidity, she mused that it must be their sexual drive that did all the thinking. Not enough juice to run two brains.
The males hurried down the side street after her, smiling like two little boys about to get a treat for good behavior.
“Are you sure she came this way?” The one with the light brown hair asked his companion.
“Yes, I'm sure she came this way,” the other one answered, running a hand through his dark blonde hair.
Carrington arched a black brow, listening as the males talked to each other.
“Then where is she?”
“How the hell should I know? She couldn't be far. After all, she's only a human and female at that.”
“Don't let the Queen hear you say that, or she'll.”
The blonde flinched inwardly at the mention of their queen. “Uh, let's forget I said that. I'd like to keep my head.”
Still in the shadows, Carrington rolled her eyes. Men could be such babies and it did not matter what race they were. She shook her head again before she stepped out into the light of the full moon.