No Humans Involved

by Kelley Armstrong

  Jeremy said, "I'm not the one he's been watching."

  He directed my attention across the way, where we now had a perfect view of Hope's backdoor entrance.

  "I was...concerned," Karl said.

  "Because she called and told you she was investigating some occult business, and you thought she was doing it on her own."

  "Which isn't to say that she couldn't handle it on her own, but I knew Jeremy was in town and Elena wanted me nearby in case of trouble. Discovering that it involved you meant there was no reason not to stay close, keep my eye on--"

  He stopped, gaze fixed on something over my shoulder.

  Hope started toward us. "I sensed a werewolf and thought it was Jeremy, so I came down to meet him. I should have known better. Werewolf plus chaos equals only one person I know. Care to finish that sentence, Karl? Who were you keeping an eye on?"

  Genuine dismay rippled Karl's composure. "I was--"

  "Doing his job," Jeremy cut in. "Watching me, at Elena's behest."

  "Ah." She gave Karl another hard look, one that said she didn't believe it, but would take it up with him later. "I suppose you might as well join us, then."

  "With such a welcome, how can I refuse?"

  "With such an entrance, how can you expect a welcome?" Hope turned on her heel and headed for her backdoor. "At least I didn't come home to find you in my living room again."

  "I was testing your security."

  "You just like pushing your luck. One of these days you're going to spook me on the wrong night and push it right into an early grave."

  WHEN WE reached Hope's apartment, Karl looked around.

  "I see your mother's been here," he said. "She has impeccable taste."

  "She does. And she's single. Close to your age too. Want her number?"

  He only strolled into the living room and stretched out on the sofa.

  "Make yourself comfortable," Hope said, tossing her keys on the counter.

  "I am, thank you. And I'll take a Scotch and soda when you have a moment."

  She flipped him the finger. He smiled. As she invited us to sit and offered coffee, his gaze followed her, lips still curved. She tossed him a bottle of Perrier. He caught it easily and we started to plan.

  DIVISION OF DUTIES

  JEREMY TOLD US HIS THOUGHTS as Karl scavenged through Hope's fridge, pawing past the take-out cartons and pulling out the leftovers.

  When Jeremy finished, he looked at me. "I know you should accompany me. After all, this is your investigation--"

  "No. Well, yes, I'd love to follow through, but under the circumstances, you don't need to be checking over your shoulder, making sure I'm okay." I glanced at Karl. "I presume you're going with Jeremy? As backup?"

  "I am." He turned to Jeremy. "Fried chicken or pork vindaloo?"

  Jeremy's gaze slid to Hope.

  "Eat up. I have so many leftovers, I can barely squeeze in a carton of milk. The perils of cooking for one. Jaime?"

  "Nothing for me, thanks."

  "The vindaloo, please," Jeremy said to Karl.

  "Good choice," Karl said, scooping out the stew for Jeremy and some of both for himself. Then he opened a container of what looked like potatoes au gratin. "So, if I'm playing bodyguard, someone needs to stay behind with Jaime."

  "Not if I'm in Brentwood," I said. "The house is surrounded by cops, so Hope can go with you two--"

  "I'd prefer you had backup, Jaime," Jeremy said. "If Hope doesn't mind."

  From the disappointment that flickered across Hope's face, she did mind. Not much fun babysitting when there was an adventure going on.

  She could have played the sexism card, but she didn't, probably realizing gender had nothing to do with it. Out of a necromancer who can talk to the dead, a half-demon who can see visions of chaos and two werewolves with superhuman strength and senses, it was obvious which two should head into battle. They could have used Hope's chaos detector, but someone had to stay behind to guard the main target.

  Hope covered her disappointment with a smile. "Sure. That's fine."

  Karl paused, spoon in a bowl, his gaze on her, steady and piercing. She glanced at him and they exchanged a look. He nodded, and put one of the plates into the microwave.

  AN HOUR later we were all back at the Brentwood house, where Hope and I would wait while Jeremy and Karl met Zack Flynn and, with any luck, used him to infiltrate the group.

  With the ongoing confusion at the house, no one questioned me bringing guests in. Didn't seem to notice, even when I took three people up to my room.

  Karl and Hope were on the balcony, door closed to give them privacy as they talked. Though I couldn't hear a word, I could tell it wasn't their usual banter. Karl was doing most of the talking, his fingers resting on Hope's arm, leaning down to her, face grave.

  Hope's fingers grazed the gun under her jacket. Jeremy had been happy to see that gun...and even happier when Karl assured us that Hope could use it.

  I pulled my gaze from the balcony as Jeremy returned from scouting.

  "All clear?" I asked.

  He nodded. "Nothing has changed with the police, and May hasn't returned."

  "Before you go, could you draw a couple of your runes for me? The protective ones?"

  "You don't need to humor me, Jaime. I know that whatever irrational urge I have to draw those is just that: irrational. A symbol can't protect someone."

  "Please?"

  He looked around, fingers drumming against his leg, as if almost hoping he wouldn't see anything to write on. I took a sheet and pen from the tiny writing desk. He sketched a few runes, not even pausing to consider which to do, as if he already knew. Then he quickly folded the sheet in quarters and reached around me to tuck it into my back pocket, using the opportunity to lean close, body pressing against mine.

  I whispered, "If we finish this tonight, you won't need to rush back to New York before morning, will you?"

  "Make a mess and leave you to clean it up? That wouldn't be right. I'd have to stay an extra day or two, to help."

  "Good."

  AFTER JEREMY and Karl left, Hope slipped away to get a better picture of the house--entry points, escape routes, "safe" rooms and such. I doubted we'd need any of them. Jeremy had told Zack Flynn that I'd flown back to Chicago to escape the media attention.

  But scouting the property probably made Hope feel more useful, so when she suggested it, I said it sounded wise and promised to stay in my room until she returned.

  While she was gone, I took a moment to sort out my thoughts. I was worried about Jeremy. Though I didn't doubt he could look after himself, I wasn't comfortable having Karl Marsten as his only source of backup. And I knew Jeremy was equally uncomfortable with it, as much as he'd pretended otherwise.

  Six years ago, a group of outside werewolves had banded together to overthrow the Pack. Clay had been kidnapped and tortured. Two of Jeremy's Pack brothers had been killed. Only one member of that rebel group survived: Karl Marsten.

  In the final battle, Elena had spared Karl because he'd helped her. Then, with Clay's support, she'd asked Jeremy to pardon him. Before the uprising, Karl had never caused any trouble for the Pack--even been on good terms with them. He hadn't participated in the killings or Clay's torture, and had joined the group for a reason the werewolves could understand--the wolf's instinctive need for territory, which the Pack had denied him.

  So Jeremy had granted Karl his reprieve and territory in a distant state on the condition that he at least consider joining the Pack. It was all very fair, very Solomon-like, very Jeremy.

  Now Karl had joined the Pack and proven himself a loyal and useful member. And the Pack had accepted him. Including Jeremy...or so everyone thought.

  Jeremy gave every appearance of supporting and even encouraging Karl's membership. It was what he considered the best way to deal with Karl.

  Yet he couldn't forget what Karl had done. Maybe Karl hadn't personally killed Peter or Logan. Maybe he hadn't beaten Clay. Maybe he'd even
acted as a buffer, keeping Clay from the worst of his captors' hate. But he'd sanctioned all that by standing aside until he saw the tables turning and only then had he flipped sides.

  Jeremy strove to accept Karl as a Pack brother. Clay had been the one tortured, and he'd forgiven Karl, so why shouldn't Jeremy? But, to me, that was the very reason why he couldn't. It was easy to forgive someone for what he did to you. Not so easy when he did it to someone you love. Clay looks at Karl now, shrugs and says, "It was just business." Jeremy looks at him and sees the man who stood by and watched his son be beaten within an inch of his life.

  Obviously, though, whatever Jeremy's feelings toward Karl, he trusted him enough to track him down this morning and ask him to join us. But I knew he'd rather have any other Pack member at his side. And so would I.

  NEXT I contacted Eve, as I'd promised Jeremy. While she couldn't physically protect me, she could keep watch even better than Hope--with no chance of looking suspicious--and could alert me if she found trouble.

  When I explained what was happening, Eve sat cross-legged on the bed, considering it in silence for a moment.

  "So Jeremy's meeting this kid who says he has info on the group, but really he's a part of the group, or so you presume. Meaning he'll likely lead Jeremy into a trap. Being forewarned, though, Jeremy will be springing the trap, not walking into it."

  "Right."

  Another moment of quiet thought, then she nodded. "Not bad. But I do have a problem with one big part of it."

  "Which is?"

  "The part that has you sitting here guarded by a chaos demon."

  "Hope's not--"

  "Oh, I know what she is. A complete stranger, and your life is in her hands."

  I shook my head and started emptying the dry-cleaning bag dropped off earlier. Eve strode over and parked herself "on" the bag, her form obscuring it.

  "You're ignoring me, Jaime. I'm raising a valid point."

  "No, you're being paranoid, which comes from a lifetime of needing to be paranoid. Hope isn't some black-market contact like Molly Crane. She helps the council. Jeremy knows her--"

  "Elena is her contact, isn't she? And that's mainly professional. They don't hang out together."

  "Jeremy knows her and he trusts her."

  There was nothing she could--or dared--say to that, so she started pacing as I emptied the bag.

  "So while he's gone, you're here, guarded by a chaos demon who's not even around--"

  "She's scouting the property. She checked in on me before I called you."

  Eve walked to the window and looked out. "Who's backing Jeremy up?"

  "A Pack brother. Karl Marsten. He's--"

  "Oh, I know who Karl Marsten is. A career criminal and a drifter." She shook her head. "I know guys like Marsten. You and Jeremy don't, so you can be forgiven for not seeing past that suave show of his. How old is he? Your age? Older, probably? He's spent the last forty years not giving a shit about anyone. Guys like that don't wake up one morning and turn team player. He's using the Pack. He doesn't care about anyone in it--"

  "Not true. Even before he joined, he got along fine with them, and he was always fond of Elena."

  Eve snorted. "The cute blond who's also the only female of his species? Oh, I bet he's fond of her."

  "It isn't like that. And he's always been on good terms with Antonio and Nick. Even Clay doesn't mind him."

  She met my gaze. "Elena, Clayton, Antonio and Nick. Leaving someone out there, Jaime?"

  Hearing my own fears echoed in her words, I busied myself stuffing a blouse into my closet. "You're right. Karl Marsten isn't my first choice to be watching Jeremy's back. And you're right about him being self-centered. But that doesn't mean he isn't capable of loyalty. Look at Hope. He's very protective of her and that's not the behavior of a guy who thinks only of himself."

  Eve turned slowly, her eyes narrowing. "Hope? He knows the half-demon?"

  "Sure. That's how she hooked up with the council."

  "Through Karl Marsten?"

  A rap at the door, then Hope's "It's me." She slid in and looked around.

  "Oh, sorry, I thought I heard you whispering and wanted to make sure everything was okay."

  I waved toward the balcony door. "It's Eve."

  "Ah, right, the ghost."

  Eve circled Hope, sizing her up. "At least she's tiny." She towered over the girl by almost a foot. "Even you can probably take her."

  "Thanks," I muttered.

  Hope looked around, obviously uncomfortable. "If you'd rather I stayed away a little longer, so you can talk to, uh, Eve..."

  "Tell her to go," Eve said.

  I glanced at Eve.

  "Five minutes," she said.

  "Maybe that's a good idea," I said to Hope. "I feel rude talking to ghosts in front of people. How about giving me five minutes?"

  "Sure, can I get you a drink while I'm downstairs?"

  "Coffee would be great."

  "Don't drink it," Eve said as Hope left.

  "Wha--?"

  "The coffee. Don't drink it."

  I rolled my eyes and sat on the edge of the bed.

  She flipped her hair back over her shoulder and crossed her arms. "You think I'm being paranoid? Let's see whether I have this straight. You and Jeremy call this Hope girl for information because she just happens to be in L.A. on some work exchange--"

  I opened my mouth, but Eve continued. "You go to her for local information and the first people she introduces you to just happen to be the same people you now suspect are responsible. She noses her way into your investigation like an eager puppy, following you two around. Then, just when you and Jeremy figure out who the bad guys are, who shows up to protect Jeremy? This half-demon's boyfriend. He takes Jeremy to 'uncover' the group while she 'guards' you. Damned nice setup."

  "Setup for what?"

  Eve pretended not to hear, strolling over to the balcony doors, eyes narrowing as if distracted by some sign of danger.

  "Setting us up for what, Eve?"

  "That half-demon thinks she's got a nose for trouble? It's nothing compared to mine, and this stinks to the heavens."

  I shook my head. "Only if you slam the pieces in until they fit your conclusion. We went to Hope, on Elena's suggestion. Hope didn't even know we were in town. Yes, it may seem coincidental that she just happens to introduce us to the very people we're looking for, but consider what they do. They play paranormal investigators to watch for new magical leads and for any signs that they themselves are in danger of exposure. Who would be one of their main contacts? Tabloid reporters covering occult activity. They worked with Hope's predecessor, then they contacted her. She had no reason to suspect them."

  "Really? Seems her nose for trouble doesn't work so well after all."

  I hesitated, then shook my head. "She says it's not perfect. She's young and we both know she won't have come into her full demon powers yet, especially when she's untrained."

  "Convenient..." Eve murmured.

  I pushed on. "As for her and Karl, I don't think she's his girlfriend--" I caught Eve's look. "And I know you only meant that they have a relationship, which they do. But he came to L.A. to protect her."

  "So it can all be explained away. And you aren't the least bit worried that they're somehow involved?"

  "The key word is 'somehow.' How? What could they hope to gain? They had nothing to do with me finding these ghosts or starting this investigation."

  "Let me think on it."

  "You do that."

  TRUST ISSUES

  HOPE RETURNED WITH MY COFFEE, which I only sipped. I trusted her, but Eve had left me a little unsettled.

  Past experience had taught me that Eve was quick to jump to conclusions about people--always conclusions that saw the worst. If you deal with the magic black market and the people in it, you have to expect the worst of everyone.

  Even now, whatever she was doing on the other side, it wasn't playing a harp in the choir of angels. Whenever she needed something
from me, it was "contact this dead killer" or "research this unsolved murder case." She might be working for the Fates, but she still had every reason to be overcautious, even paranoid. So I took her fears about Hope and Karl with a whole teaspoon of salt...but didn't dismiss them.

  As Hope and I waited for news from Jeremy, we talked, mostly about life in L.A.--sharing anecdotes, favorite restaurants and clubs, that sort of thing. As time ticked past, conversation became more strained, both of us worrying about Jeremy and Karl.

  Eventually Hope took up Eve's earlier occupation--pacing. She'd head to the window or balcony door, look out, then return to me, try to resume conversation and falter as she returned for another look outside...or at her cell phone.

  "Marsten isn't involved," said a voice to my rear.

  Eve strode around me.

  "New theory. Marsten's not in on it. Unwitting dupe. Werewolves don't need magic, so the group wouldn't interest him. And he knows if he betrayed Jeremy, Clayton would put him through a hell worse than anything the Fates could dream up. Marsten's only crime is middle-aged delusions. Even players aren't immune to pretty young things."

  I opened my mouth, then glanced over at Hope.

  Eve continued. "Girl like that, with her powers, she'd be easy prey for this group. Thing I can't figure out is why she's holed up here with you."

  "Uh-huh," I murmured under my breath.

  "It'd be easier if she'd convinced Jeremy to take you along. Did she try?"

  I shook my head.

  "Huh. Well, she needs to get you out of this house and away from the guards. Has she suggested you two go anywhere? Out for a drink or a walk?"

  Another shake.

  "If she does, you stay put. In the meantime I'll keep patrolling...and thinking about this."

  EVE HAD only been gone a few minutes when Hope's nerves took a sharp turn for the worse.

  "Keep up that pacing and you're going to wear a hole in the floor," I said.

  She jumped, as if surprised to hear a voice. Her eyes were wide and blank.

  I pushed to my feet. "Hope? Are you seeing--?"

  A sharp shake of her head and her gaze focused. "N-no. Just..." She seemed to struggle for words, then said abruptly, "They should have called by now."

  "Not unless they're in trouble. Whatever Jeremy has in mind, it's going to take awhile. I know waiting is tough..."