“Sounds good to me,” she said with a smile.
The stroll along the river was absolutely breathtaking. Not only was the weather perfect, but there was also something awe inspiring about walking past buildings and bridges that were older than a lot of countries in the world, including the U.S. Harley could practically feel the history under her feet.
When the elegant-looking bridge, Pont de Grenelle, came into view with its copy of the iconic Statue of Liberty, they both pulled out their phones to snap some pictures. Harley almost laughed, thinking how completely normal they appeared. Like they were simply two tourists out seeing the sights. Except they were about as far from normal as anybody could get. Then again, given everything Adriana had told them, maybe there were a lot more people in the world who were far from normal than anyone had ever thought. Maybe she and Sawyer weren’t so different from everyone else after all.
Harley looked around at the people they passed. The laughing teenagers, the young man with his pastels and easel painting a bridge called Pont de Bir-Hakeim with the Eiffel Tower in the background, the old couple holding hands and smiling. How many of them were special?
“Do you think any of these people are like us?” she asked Sawyer when they stopped to take in Île aux Cygnes, the man-made island in the middle of the river. Lined with trees, the walkway with its many benches looked perfect for whiling away the hours.
Sawyer didn’t say anything at first, his attention fixed on the people moving along the narrow island a few hundred feet away. He wore the same long overcoat he had last night, and damn if it didn’t look good on him. When he finally turned to her, his expression was curious. “Are you asking if there are any werewolves around? The answer is no. We’d be able to smell them.”
Harley almost snorted. Sawyer might be able to smell them, but she doubted she ever would. She might have been able to pick up a fellow werewolf’s scent in the confined space of the club last night, like she’d done with him, but out in the open like this, with the breeze swirling around all over the place? Not a chance.
Although, oddly enough, she could still pick up that same delicious scent of cinnamon coffee cake she’d smelled in the conference room. Her nose really was freaky.
“What if they aren’t werewolves?” she pressed. “What if they’re special like Adriana? Would we smell them then?”
He regarded her thoughtfully. “Adriana has a specific scent like any other human, but she definitely smells human.”
“What about Misty?” she prompted. “Does she have a distinctive scent?”
Misty smelled human to Harley, but that didn’t mean much of anything.
“Should she?” Damn, Sawyer’s accent even made confused sound sexy. “Is she special like Adriana?”
Harley nodded, wondering if she should be outing Misty’s hypercool ability. “She can communicate with computers and other kinds of electronic devices. Like a Vulcan mind meld, except with an inanimate object.”
She thought Sawyer would be as surprised as she was when Misty had first demonstrated her talent, but he merely lifted a brow. “That’s useful.” His mouth twitched. “Although I have to admit, I’m more of a Doctor Who than a Star Trek fan. But for the record, Misty smells human, too.”
Harley considered that as she eyed the tourists and they started walking again. “So we could be surrounded by people like Adriana, Misty, or even that jerk with the knife.”
The memory of the guy who could disappear and reappear at will made her wonder how worried they should be about that.
Sawyer didn’t seem concerned, though. “We could be, but I’d like to think our werewolf instincts would tell us if any of them were dangerous.”
Up ahead, the Eiffel Tower came into view as they moved past the bridge. Even from this distance, the structure was something to behold.
Harley let out a little snort. “You have a lot more faith in your wolf talents than I do. I was lucky to figure out the vampire was bad news and that was only because I saw all those teeth.”
“It can be tricky when you’re new to the whole werewolf thing,” Sawyer said as they paused across the street from the Eiffel Tower. They both had to crane their necks to see all the way to the top, but it was worth it. Up close, it was truly spectacular. “I know my instincts got better over time. How long has it been since you went through your change?”
Harley doubted that was the issue, and even though she knew the exact date she’d turned, she did the math in her head anyway for the hell of it. “Eight years. I was twenty when I turned.”
When Sawyer didn’t say anything, Harley looked away from the gorgeous gigantic tower in front of her to see him standing there looking a little uncomfortable. It wasn’t hard to figure out why.
“Let me guess,” she said drily. “You’ve been a werewolf for less than that, right?”
“Yeah.” He gave her a sheepish smile. “I turned four years ago. But I don’t know much about our kind, so maybe it’s less about time and more about experiences. Being part of MI6, I kind of had to figure out how to make this thing work for me—fast.”
Considering she’d spent the vast majority of her time as a werewolf completely ignoring that part of herself, she imagined Sawyer was probably right, though she doubted if he’d understand. Not wanting to talk about the reasons behind why she never tried to tap into her inner werewolf, she turned and took a few pictures of
