Coda stalked forward and Hayden tried to stop her but the dog dove, snarling, into a stall. A figure leapt out of the stall next to where Coda had vanished and slapped the door shut, locking the barking, howling husky inside. A man in a ski mask and dressed entirely in black turned to face her just as she raised the handgun, pointing it at his chest.
“Where is Fenn Smith?” His voice was cold, soft, and oddly flat. It sounded unnatural, almost as if he sought to disguise himself. “Where is he? Do not make me ask a third time.”
Fear spiked through her, clenching her stomach and tightening her throat. “He’s not here.” Thank God he wasn’t.
The man in black advanced, stalking toward her.
“Stop moving.” She flicked the safety off the gun. “I’ll shoot.”
“You are not a killer,” he said.
“Tak
