Personal Demon
Page 43

I spun but only got a view of his back a split second before he closed the bedroom door. He’d want privacy for his Change and that wasn’t vanity. I’m curious about many things, but witnessing the human-to-wolf transformation isn’t one of them.
“I’m going to try picking up visions,” I said. “So try to keep the screams of agony to a minimum, okay?”
A muttered epithet. I grinned and walked to the sofa.
 
HOPE: THE SCENT OF TROUBLE
 
 
While Karl Changed, I worked on summoning chaos visions. To automatically detect chaos, it has to be strong—either very recent or very chaotic. To find more, I need to pop up my antenna by concentrating. The problem is that then I get too many signals, all competing for air time in my brain.
I caught flashes—a raised hand, an angry shout, a muffled plea—with no context to place it in. Having Karl Changing in the next room didn’t help. There was no chaos from it—pain doesn’t count unless it’s accompanied by an emotion, and Karl was beyond that. Still, I knew he was undergoing something agonizing, to help me, so I couldn’t stop feeling twinges of guilt.
Finally there came the noise I’d been waiting for, the bump-bump of Karl moving around the bedroom, sniffing. After a moment, silence. Then a grunt of canine frustration.
I walked to the bedroom door…and laughed.
“Problem, Karl?”
A black nose appeared at the narrow opening of the almost-shut door. He tried wedging his muzzle into it to fling it open, but couldn’t get leverage. Another grunt, annoyed now. The nose withdrew. I could picture him sitting on his haunches, out of my sight, pondering the predicament.
“If you scratch at the door, someone will probably let you out.”
A huff.
I pushed open the door. Karl was sitting exactly as I’d pictured him. He fixed me with a look, then stalked out.
Before I met Karl, I’d wondered what a changed werewolf looked like. Not an all-consuming topic of curiosity, but I had wondered. I’d heard stories, but no eyewitness accounts. I had my curiosity satisfied that first night.
Admittedly, having little experience with wolves, I’d thought he looked like a big dark-haired dog. Later, I’d found a picture of a black wolf with snow on its muzzle, giving the photographer an imperious “I most certainly was not playing in the snow” glower. The wolf—and its expression—reminded me so much of Karl that the picture now hung in my home office. He hated it. Threatened to abscond with it every time he visited, but of course, he never did.
Karl worked his way around the apartment with his nose to the floor. Not wanting to hover, I went into the living room, sat cross-legged on the floor and concentrated.
After a few minutes, a vision came that I hadn’t seen before—a spray of blood. Heart hammering, I pulled back from the vision, took a deep breath, then chased it, trying to untangle it from the other threads. Finally, by concentrating on just that image, I was able to tug it to the forefront.
I struggled to pull my mind’s eye away from the blood and see the rest of the scene. The screen was very small, focusing only on the event, as usual. Blood sprayed. Then, in the next iteration, I made out a flash of motion.
Then a flash of flesh. Finally, a flash of fist. That was it.
The blood came from a punch, maybe to the nose, not even a hard punch at that, the spark of chaos coming from surprise. A playful jab that made contact? Sonny and Jaz goofing around? A previous tenant? I couldn’t see either actor, but whatever the explanation, this wasn’t a truly chaotic event.
Karl walked behind me, so close his fur tickled my neck. I leaned back and he stopped, letting me rest against him. We stayed like that for a moment. Then he pressed his cold nose against the back of my neck, making me jump, and gave a growling chuckle before moving on.
“Not getting anything?” I asked.
I didn’t know whether he could understand me. He glanced my way, but that might only have been a reaction to my voice.
“Have you gone through the bathroom yet? That’s where it seems to have started, whatever it was.”
A soft grunt, and he walked that way. So he could understand me.
I started following, then heard the squeak of the front-door knob. Karl’s head swung up, ears swiveling.
I grinned. “Seems like someone’s home and we’ve all been worrying for nothing.”
The door opened. I started forward. Karl lunged and grabbed my hand in his teeth, fangs pressing into the skin, but careful not to break it. When I looked over at him, he flared his nostrils. I was about to pull away, when he flared them again, making a show of sniffing the air.
Whoever was in that hall wasn’t Jaz or Sonny. I was about to dive into the bathroom with Karl when a voice called, “Faith? Is that you?”
 
I pulled away from Karl. He snapped to get my attention. I shook my head and started to close the door behind me. He lunged into the opening. Then he backed up, leaving a paw in the gap as I pulled shut the door.
Guy walked in. He wore a blue paisley shirt and smelled of cologne, as if he’d been heading out to hit the clubs, take a break from worrying about Jaz and Sonny.
“It is you,” he said. “I thought I heard your voice.”
Karl’s paw vanished into the bathroom. I left the door as it was, so he could get it open, and moved into the living room.
“I heard someone coming in and thought it might be the guys.”
“Sorry,” he said.
“I know I probably shouldn’t be here, but I thought maybe it would be easier to pick up a vision when I was alone.”
“Was it?”
I moved to the sofa, making him turn his back to the bathroom door. “I caught flashes. Nothing relevant.
But I’d like to keep trying.”
He didn’t take the hint, just told me to go ahead and he’d poke around looking for clues he might have missed. A dark shape passed the partly open bathroom door, Karl changing position to keep an eye on Guy.
Guy checked under the sofa.
“So no one’s heard anything, I take it?” I said.
He shook his head and moved to the entertainment stand, searching it. I crossed to the door, struggling to think of a way to get him out of here. When I turned, he was in the middle of the room, looking around. His gaze fell on the bathroom door.
“I suppose I’ll take off, then,” I said. “Try to get some sleep.”