Personal Demon
Page 42

 Kelley Armstrong

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I hadn’t seen a chaos vision. Hadn’t felt a vibe. If something serious happened in that room, I’d know it.
Wouldn’t I?
I was always the first to say my powers were far from perfect.
Karl sat beside me. Hands on his thighs, back straight. Then he reached over and patted my leg, a horribly awkward tap, like one you’d give a stranger in distress, while praying you wouldn’t be called upon to do more.
He glanced my way. Our eyes met and I saw…panic. Like I might throw myself into his arms and start sobbing. I looked away fast.
“I—I’m going to take a bath. Try to relax.”
I waited, hoping for him to say, “No, stay and talk about it.” But he mumbled, “Good idea.”
I pushed from the sofa and hurried to the bathroom.
 
FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER, Karl rapped on the door.
“May I come in?”
“I’m still in the tub.”
“So…no?”
A few hours ago, he’d coldly refused to talk to me in a towel, and now he wanted to come in when I was bathing?
“If you want to, I guess,” I said, words coming slow, with obvious reluctance.
The doorknob turned. I arranged a washcloth over my breasts. Yes, he’d seen them before, but damned if I was putting on a show that he clearly didn’t want.
He shut the door behind him, as if we might be disturbed. For the second time that night, he looked uncharacteristically uncomfortable, hair ruffled, as if he’d run his hands through it.
“Yes, Karl?”
His gaze slid to me for the first time, then quickly turned away. “I thought…I could help. If you’d like. I can go to their apartment and—” His jaw worked, chewing over the next words, then he spit them out, as if making some embarrassing confession. “I could sniff around. See if there are any signs of…violence.”
“Blood, you mean.”
“And I can look—sniff—for trails, maybe find out where they went.”
I wanted to scream, “Yes, please!” but studied his expression, trying to gauge how genuine the offer was, how much he was hoping I’d say, “No, that’s okay.”
“I should, Hope,” he continued. “I can find some answers for you. You can stay here and wait—”
“No, I’ll come.”
 
WHEN WE ARRIVED at the apartment, I was in a strange mood, almost giddy. Now I would know what had happened. If I’d thought of it earlier, I’d have asked Karl, but he worked so hard to suppress his werewolf side, it was easy to forget what he could do.
He wouldn’t find a murder scene. If they’d been killed, their bodies would still be there. I should have realized this, but had been so determined not to consider the possibility, that I hadn’t allowed myself to think it through.
If the Cabal was involved, they had Jaz and Sonny. Maybe not in the best of shape, but they’d be alive.
Their kidnappings would be for negotiation or a show of force.
In this frame of mind, the specter of Jaz’s death all but banished, I could relax. Karl would help me solve this puzzle, and then, if it was a kidnapping, we’d have proof to take to Benicio and demand answers.
 
The building door, as earlier, was unlocked, but Guy had relocked the apartment door.
Karl took out his picks.
“May I?” I asked.
“Of course.”
It would be quicker if he did it, but the hall was empty. Karl handed me his gloves—sheer fabric that let me feel and grip objects, but wouldn’t leave prints.
I shifted so my body would block anyone’s view from the right. Karl took up position on my left.
“You’re blocking my light,” I said.
“You can’t pick locks in the dark?”
“You still need to teach me.”
“That’s what I’m doing.”
He stayed where he was, shadow cast over my hands. I closed my eyes and worked by feel. Overkill, but my heart was already picking up speed and I wasn’t averse to adding an extra layer of challenge…and danger.
After a minute, his hand closed around mine. My eyes flew open.
“Keep them shut,” he murmured. When I did, he straightened my fingers, guiding them. “Now, you can feel the…”
He led me through it. I struggled to pay attention, but the feel of his fingers through the thin fabric, the warmth of his breath, the overwhelming awareness of him, standing inches away…Let’s just say the chaos buzz of the lock-picking wasn’t the only thing making my pulse race.
Finally, we got it unlocked. I opened the door.
“Do you still have those locks I gave you for practice?” he asked.
“I do.”
“You should work on them in different light conditions.”
“You mean I’m not perfect yet?”
“Shockingly enough.”
He propelled me through the hall, then circled the room, sniffing discreetly.
“I don’t think that’s going to do it,” I said.
“I’m just starting.”
“You mean you’re working up to the undignified part.”
A snort, but he didn’t disagree, just kept circling.
“Just get down on the carpet,” I said. “I swear I won’t take photos.”
He crouched, then cast a surreptitious glance my way.
“Oh, good God, just get down already.” I turned my back to him and crossed my arms. “Better? I swear, Karl, even in Miami, you win bonus points for vanity.”
Another snort. Another noticeable lack of disagreement. After a few minutes, I said, “When Elena and I worked a council job together, she said her sense of smell is better when she’s in wolf form.”
“Humph.”
“I’m just saying…”
“Elena’s sense of smell is better than mine in any form.”
“And you admit it?”
“Only because it isn’t a skill I care to excel in.” A pause. “But you’re right. I should Change.”
“I was kidding, Karl. I know it’s not like snapping your fingers—”
“No, I should. I’m already overdue.”
“Ah, that’s why you’ve been so grouchy.”
“Yes. It has absolutely nothing to do with you.”