Living with the Dead - By Kelley Armstrong Page 0,114

thought it was a mistake. Hoped it was. I guess not. Which is going to make this—”

He vaulted from his chair. Robyn didn’t have time to do more than shriek before realizing he wasn’t jumping at her, but toward the bed, executing the kind of perfect leap only seen in movies. He twisted, hands raised, as Karl barreled from the bathroom, surprising Robyn. She gave yet another shriek followed by a mental promise that next time she was leaping up to defend herself like a proper twenty-first-century heroine.

The front door whammed open. Hope flew through, gun swinging toward the intruder. Robyn did manage not to scream. Not that anyone noticed. As always seemed to happen in such situations, the hostage was quickly forgotten, kidnapper and rescuers facing off, focused only on one another.

“I’m not armed,” the man said.

He held his hands up like stop signs, one toward each attacker, his gaze flipping between them, as if trying to figure out which posed the greater threat: the big pissed-off werewolf or the tiny gun-toting half-demon.

“He didn’t hurt me,” she said. “I let him in and we were talking, waiting for you.”

“You’re okay?” Hope asked.

“Fine. Let’s hear what he has to say.”

“We should get you someplace else,” Hope said. “You don’t need to—”

“I’m good.”

And she was. That strange sense of clarity had settled over her now, and she realized it wasn’t shock but balance. She could handle this. Werewolves, demons, clairvoyants . . . A brave new world, Bobby. Take it in stride.

When Karl checked out the drapes, the man said, “I came alone.”

“I didn’t see anyone else,” Robyn added. “But I didn’t get a chance to look either. Like I said, he hasn’t been here long. We didn’t even get to introductions.” She turned to the man. “I’m Robyn.”

He paused, as if he’d rather stay anonymous, then said, “Rhys.”

“He’s a clairvoyant,” Robyn told Hope and Karl. “He was the boy’s father.”

Rhys cut in. “What I want has nothing to do with—” His voice caught. “—with Colm. You’re Hope Adams, with the council, am I right?”

Now it was Hope’s turn to hesitate.

Rhys didn’t wait for confirmation. “I understand you’re trying to help your friend here, but as I told her, the council has no place in clairvoyant affairs.”

“And as I was telling him,” Robyn said, “since this involves me, suspected of a murder committed by a clairvoyant, I’d say I have a vested interest in not handing it over.”

“We aren’t handing anything to anyone,” Hope said. “If you’re suggesting the council has no business investigating a clairvoyant—”

Rhys lifted a hand. “I didn’t say they had no business—”

“You’re getting us tangled in semantics,” Robyn said. “Let’s cut to the chase.”

She thought a smile touched Hope’s eyes.

Rhys said, “The ‘chase’ is that you’re involved in a situation you know little about and the deeper you get into it, the worse it will become.”

“So you want us to back out?” Hope said. “I don’t think so.”

“I’m suggesting we reach an agreement that allows me to pursue this investigation properly.”

“And alone,” Robyn said. “Without us.”

His lips tightened. He didn’t like being forced into a straight answer. Too bad. Robyn had engineered enough snow jobs to recognize one.

“Not entirely alone,” he said finally. “With my people.”

“Who are?” Hope prompted. “The clairvoyants have no governing body. You say the council doesn’t have the right—”

“I didn’t say right.”

“You say they have no place investigating clairvoyants, but they’ve done so in the past. Because clairvoyants, lacking that governing body, don’t have anyplace else to go.”

“In this case, they do.”

Hope nodded. “You. And you are . . . ?”

He said nothing.

“You represent . . . ?”

Still nothing.

“Fine. If you can’t present credentials that I can take to the council, then I’m going to keep investigating this—”

“And get another child killed?”

Hope stiffened, gun jerking up, as if she’d been smacked. “I was trying to save him. He jumped—”

“Because you didn’t understand the situation.”

Karl swung on Rhys, fast enough to make the other man pull back, chair legs squeaking.

“You can leave now.” Karl walked toward Rhys. “In case Grant Gilchrist didn’t tell you how this works, let me explain. You have the rest of the day to pack and leave the city. If you don’t? Come sundown, I hunt you and I kill you.”

Rhys held fast as Karl approached, but Robyn was sure he blanched.

“That was your boy you set on us last night. Gilchrist?”

“I—”

“He didn’t come home last night, did he? I warned him that afternoon. Told him he had until sundown.