The man stopped in front of a darkened storefront, prompting Gideon to close the distance lest he lose him, but when it didn’t open no matter how much the man rattled the front door, his prey chose instead to slip down the alley running beside it. Gideon was right on his heels.
He caught the back of the man’s shirt as he struggled to jimmy open the store’s back door. Clamping his hand over the man’s mouth, he hauled him flush against his body, drinking in the blood that stained the man’s clothes. An unmistakable handprint smeared across the rotund belly. Small.
Gideon’s gut clenched at the realization that the hand’s owner had either been a small woman or a child.
“Do you like to hear them scream?” he hissed into the man’s ear. “Or do you get hard on the thrill of getting away with it?”