"Right, Ricky, on your feet, your carriage awaits." Wolf took Ricky's elbow firmly, guiding him to the cab and settling him inside.
She met her brother's eyes as he opened the door on the far side of the vehicle, smiling as Declán mouthed the gist of the call. They shared a look of acknowledgement and entered the cab to flank Ricky, closing the doors in unison.
As the vehicle pulled away from the curb Ricky started to fidget. "I don't know anything." He nervously twisted the edge of his jacket in his hands.
Declán closed his eyes, relaxing back into the seat and looking, for all the world, as if he was asleep. Wolf watched the damp London night pass by the window, occasionally following the path of raindrops as they beaded and ran with the vehicles passage. Both ignored their prisoner's increasing shrillness and he eventually subsided into loud sobs.
Ricky squeaked as Wolf unexpectedly turned her attention to him. She experimentally prodded his arm, handling it as she would a choice cut of meat and licking her lips in a most disturbing manner. He pulled away and scooted as far away from her as possible, almost ending up in Declán's lap. "What's she doing?"
Declán sighed and gently returned Ricky to his seat. "If you can't tell us anything, you're not much use now, are you?" Wolf sniffed in the direction of Ricky's thigh, causing him to jerk his legs out of her reach. "She hasn't eaten for a while."
Ricky giggled, an edge of panic in his voice. "You're having a lend. Right?" He looked from Declán to Wolf and for the first time noticed that their eyes were glowing green as they reflected the dim streetlights outside. He was pretty certain that human eyes weren't supposed to do that. Swallowing loudly, he told them all he could about the painting that had been smuggled in from Rome.
15minuteficlets — word #57: tender
Part of the Chase!verse and the Wolf&Declán!verse