Zael let's out a high whistle, and waves a hand out to call us a cab.

He pushes through the wave of people, grabbing my elbow to pull me and Jace along into the yellow car, and climbs in last after a second of looking back into the crowd.

"He's still there." He says lowly, and then to the driver, "Take us to the the coffee shop two blocks from here."

I tilt my head a bit at his directions, and how exact they are.

'I've been in the city a few times.'

I glance over at him and then at Jace, who hasn't noticed Zael speak.

He must just be talking to me.

'Special reason?' I ask, pulling my hair back in a pony tail, trying not to elbow either of them.

He's quiet for a moment, looking out the cab's window. 'I used to live here, when I was 14 or 15, my dad had ... Sent me to live with my grandmother. Until he realized I could be useful.'

I lower my eyes to my lap, we're my hands are laced. 'I'm sorry.'

I look down at my converse, thinking of what was said earlier. Mates. God I hope that's not true.

Sensing my distress, Jace looks over at me and takes my hand reassuringly and squeezes it softly.

Zael's reflection smiles a little, still looking out the window. 'I'm sure it's not true. You shouldn't worry about it, we've got your back, no matter what.'

'Thank you Zael. Really.'

He doesn't say anything, as the cab driver pulls over to let us out. Zael leans over the seat to hand the scruffy man a wad of money.

He takes it with a nod and says "Thanks." In a raucous way.

We slide out, and Jace glances behind us, sniffing a little, his nostrils flaring before turning, a hand on my waist, and we start to walk again.

"Relax Freedmen, we're not being followed anymore." Zael says, sticking his hands in his pockets, and walking next to us. "Were going to turn left up here, and meet your father." He says to me, not taking his eyes off of the concrete and people in front of us.

"Is the city always so busy? It seems like everyone walks every were." I say, looking out at the side walk on either side of the street.

Zael gives a fond chuckle, whether of me or the city, I can't tell.

" Mostly, yes. There's too many people in one area if you ask me, but there are charms to it. You can walk where ever, when ever." He glances at me, then back to the horizon, were bodies are being silhouetted by the lowering sun. "It's getting late."

I look out at the sunset, much more dull than in the country, and sigh, missing home already.

Jace gives me a sidelong look and smiles tiredly, his fingers brushing my skin we're it shows in a spot from my riding up top. "You okay Angel?"

I shiver. "Fine, are we almost there?" I ask, pulling my hair free of it's elastic band.

I see Zael hold his breath, as if I smell bad, a pained look coming to his face.

Jace notices too, and chuckles softly, almost knowingly it seems. "Yeah."

I make a face, and someone rudely pushes passed Zael, pushing his shoulder into me.

He swears and glares behind us at the man, then faces forward again, almost abruptly, pain on his face.

Left over from my scent?

"What's wrong?" Jay asks, furrowing his brow in concentration.

It doesn't take me long to find out what Zael's problem is.

The metallic twang of blood comes off of him, and he holds his side tightly, giving a scowl. "Bastard. Must have been one of them." he shivers, and winces, leaning a hand on the wall of one of the many buildings.

"Zael!" I gasp, trying to hold his big frame up so he doesn't fall on the cement.

A few people start to look over in curiosity.

Jace scoots me over to take my place, and lifts him enough so he can stand. "You alright dude?" he asks, attempting to look behind him at what I'm looking at.

The man in a black suit had stopped and was staring at me like a piece of meat, and turned, I think into an alleyway, slipping a crimson sickened knife into his jacket.

I swallow, an look over at the boys. "We've got to find my dad. I feel him close, and that guy might be coming back to cut us off. He turned into an alley back there a hundred feet or so." I say, my senses kicking into Alpha mode. "Can you walk?" I ask, looking up at Zael.

He's got a bit of blood at the corner of his mouth, but gives a pained smile and a nod. "Yes ma'am."

Jace helps him straighten, then let's him stand, some of Zael's blood on his hand.

He wipe's it on his jeans.

My father finds us half way down the block, and he sends Dylan and Jace to check us into a hotel room, while my brother runs out to get supplies.

Meanwhile, he and I stay with Zael, keeping pressure on the gash to stop the bleeding, so he can heal.

Good thing the werewolf and silver thing is a myth.