"I really don't like this," Bloodhound said, pacing across her hotel room with her phone pressed to her ear. "I thought I'd be okay with it, but I hate being cut off like this."
"Relax," Hearne advised. He was a Hunter, and her handler, and while he wasn't that much older than she was, his voice was soothing and calm. "They wouldn't have left me with you if they were cutting you loose."
"No, no, I get it, I just..." She was going to start whining if she wasn't careful, and even knowing that Hearne would cover for her the prospect was humiliating. She was an Alpha Hound. She could lead teams, operate on her own, strip a rifle, clean it, and reassemble it without opening her eyes. She could sniff out Anomalies, claw her way through steel armor, and get targets to give up their secrets without even realizing they'd done it. Why had Mongrel leaving her behind thrown her this far off balance? "I'm going out for a bit. I need a change of perspective."
"All right." Hearne didn't sound worried; he, at least, still trusted her. Most likely Mongrel and Huntsman did too, and she was freaking out over nothing. "Keep your GPS on, and contact me if you need me."
"Will do," Bloodhound said, and started pulling on clothing. She knew exactly where she was going, knew it was a bad idea, and still she couldn't stop herself. She needed this down to the marrow in her bones; she needed to know.
"Damn it, Omar," she said quietly, and then checked to make sure she'd cut the call to Hearne. Fortunately, she had. It wasn't a disaster, just another small slip to be laid at her once-friend's door.
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