The Wolf with the Iron Jaw (Elysium #1)

Chapter Thirty

 The storm continued throughout the day and into the evening. After hours of Booker restlessly pacing the house and Trinket doing everything she could think of to distract him, it came to an end a little after ten at night. They were out the door in seconds, map and sleeping gun in hand.

"I thought we were just tracking it," Trinket said, eyeing Booker's weapon suspiciously.

"We are, but if the opportunity arises to capture the beast, I'd be a fool not to take it."

The city was a glittering dream. With a soft blanket of white snow covering the sewage-filled streets and collapsing roofs, the slums looked almost pretty. There wasn't a footprint or carriage track to mar the perfect landscape.

A dreamy sigh escaped her lips as she gazed at the sparkling scene. Booker cocked an eyebrow. "You're not going to start waxing poetic, are you?" he asked.

"No, I'm not the poetic type. But it is beautiful, isn't it?"

He looked about the street, his brow furrowed. "I suppose, though I personally don't much like it considering all the time it wasted."

"It makes everything look far more magical."

"I thought you weren't poetic?"

"Are you always so pragmatic?"

"I'm surprised you're so enamored of the blasted stuff. I mean, you did almost freeze to death in the middle of a snowstorm."

She shrugged and pulled her coat tighter about herself. "I know it can be dangerous and inconvenient, but that doesn't stop it from being beautiful."

A crooked smile tugged at Booker's lips. "I daresay some of the most dangerous things in this world are amongst the most beautiful."

There was a glimmer in his eye as his grin softened, and her heart skittered unexpectedly. Clearing her throat, she averted her gaze and focused on the snow-covered road ahead. "So where to first?" she asked.

He handed her the map and pointed to a cluster of X's marking recent sightings. "Let's start in the center. Seems to be where most of the encounters have taken place."

As they trudged through the streets, the city slowly came to life. With the storm no longer a threat, urchins emerged from the alleys, scooping up handfuls of snow and pelting their mates with it whilst dodging attacks from others. Men and women stumbled over snowdrifts on their way to the Clocktower, cussing and complaining about the storm as night flowers braved the ice and cold in search of work.

"Booker, darling!"

A figure waved from the Clocktower, and as Trinket and Booker drew closer, they recognized the stranger as Grace. Her fiery gaze was intently set on Booker, only flickering momentarily to Trinket before returning to him.

"Grace, how are you faring this fine evening?" Booker asked, stopping at a safe distance from the night flower.

She flashed a suggestive smile. "I could use a bit of warming up after that storm."

"I'm sure you have a queue of gentlemen waiting to partake of your services."

"Yes, but I'd gladly let you cut in line."

"I'm afraid I'm out on an important errand tonight but thank you all the same."

Lifting her nose in the air, Grace tossed her hair and said, "Well then, maybe you're too busy for the information I have."

Booker's eyes lit up. "Already? My, you work fast."

"Are you suggesting something?"

"No, not at all. I'm certain your performance is superb."