Something isn't right.
The thought had intruded on his musing as he walked through the city. He'd felt uneasy for a while, but that made sense; he wasn't supposed to be here. Jake had sworn him off of Chinatown for political reasons, and Luke had agreed to stop seeing Harm at his apartment. How was he supposed to resist an early afternoon lunch/dinner with Harm after not seeing him for nearly a week, though? Between Harm's medical work schedule and Luke's newfound role of sheriff, there had been precious little time for the two of them, especially considering that Harm's place was now off limits. Harm had been practically drowsy through their diner date, and headed home to crash before the bill was settled.
His thoughts had been consumed by Harm, and by work. Now that he was running the show in fact, there was always something to do- a schedule to adjust, a report to read, a training session to implement. His current pet project was improving the district's armory with weapons that would prove useful against a variety of threats. He was glad for the multiple distractions because it kept him from thinking about Project Twilight. Apparently they were making moves. According to Jake, they'd attacked one of his spies. There was no evidence that they had tracked down Luke, but the fact that they'd managed to corner one of the Nossies... well, Luke was dubious on that count.
He was clad in gray sweats, sneakers, and a deep blue hoodie. He kept his hands plunged into the pouch pocket at the front of it, but the hood wasn't drawn. He was vigilant on his worst days, and he preferred a clear view of his periphery to the anonymity it would provide.
He didn't slow his step or alter his body language in the slightest when his internal alarms started going off. If there was someone nearby planning to make a move, they were much more likely to make mistakes if they thought they were catching him unawares. He continued on his intended path, but was ready to change course if he felt like he needed to shake a tail.
He studied the reflections in the wide windows that he passed, watching for signs to confirm his suspicions. It was several minutes before he caught a glimpse of his shadow; a figure all in black, masked, creeping along at a distance. His pulse quickened, but again, he kept his rolling stride the same and maintained the lost in thought expression he'd been wearing. Whoever it was, they had skills. Luke had only seen them disappear into a patch of shadow. Given the amount of foot traffic, for someone dressed like that to go unnoticed, they had to be beyond professional. It fairly screamed Project Twilight.
Deja vu struck him suddenly. He was almost to the bus depot where he'd confronted Jake. Just like that time, he was being pursued. He'd had less control then, though. He'd been more desperate, unable to think of himself as anything but predator or prey. This time he didn't even entertain that paradigm. He had a lot more options, and a lot more support. If they wanted a crack at him, they'd have to earn it. Luring them off to some isolated spot was probably exactly what they wanted. If he was them, he'd have teams nearby, ready to move on every likely location for a confrontation. In that case...
A strange sound tugged at his attention, and he managed to catch a glimpse of the obscured figure again out of the corner of his eye. They were close now, and it was almost as if they wanted to be caught. That information conflicted with his assessment of his quarry being a well-trained operative, but not enough for Luke to change his plan.
There was a subway stop up ahead. He tended not to ride it if he could avoid it. Something about being underground, with so many people around, rankled him. Right now, it was just what he needed. They could hardly cover every stop on the line. They could ostensibly pull strings and get the train shut down, but that would require some real pull, and would be a dead giveaway as to what was going on. He was confident he'd be able to escape, either into the crowd or the tunnels.
With his hands clenched into fists but still hidden in his pockets, he headed down the stairs and into the brightly lit subway station. Despite his aversion, he kept a few tickets on him, so he didn't even need to stop; he just made his way right through the turnstile and walked a ways down the platform to give himself a good vantage point of every means of entrance.
A self-satisfied smirk twisted his lips. Your move, asshole.