"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."
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."
I was about to ask him to walk outside with me, claim the neighborhood made me nervous, but he beat me to it, adding, "I should probably go too. This isn't helping. It's just..." He rolled his shoulders. "Making me feel useful, I guess."
I nodded. "Same here. Better to rest and clear our heads."
We headed downstairs. I planned to call for a cab, then circle the block in it and return for Karl.
But Guy, surprisingly, wanted to talk. Obviously he was worried and tense and, like many people under stress, he reacted by talking. He explained what the others were doing to hunt for Jaz and Sonny, then he told me some of their theories, then gave more details on their recent attack by the Cabal goons. Any other time, I'd have made the most of his loquacious mood, but all I
kept thinking was How do I get out of here? before Karl shot out the front door after me. When Guy finally did pause enough for me to say, "Oh, I should call that cab," he put out a hand to stop me.
"I'll give you a lift."
"Oh? Uh, sure. Where are you parked?"
"Just down the road."
He put his hand on my elbow and started leading me along the darkened sidewalk. "I want to stop by the club first, grab my stuff."
"Sure."
"We could probably use a drink too." A smile my way. "On the house."
Shit. In other words, Guy still wanted to talk. I knew I should take advantage, but my brain was spinning with worries about Jaz, and worries about Karl now too, whether he'd know where I'd gone, whether he'd remember to sniff the balcony and under it.
So how to say no to Guy without sounding like I was giving him the brush-off?
"Miss?"
I turned to see Karl approaching. He wore an ill-fitting blazer, shoulders straining the seams--a jacket meant for a thinner man, probably from Sonny's closet. He dipped his head deferentially.
"You wanted me to wait with the cab, miss?"
His accent was a Deep South drawl, copied from Clayton, if I was any judge.
"Uh, no," I said. "I didn't say that, but if you've been waiting, I guess I should--"
"Hold on." Guy took a couple of twenties from his pocket. "There. Go."
Karl took a hard look at Guy, then his gaze slipped to me. "This man bothering you, miss?"
"Yeah," Guy said, words sharp. "I'm a black guy in a bad neighborhood. Of course I'm bothering her. Now, beat it, asshole, or--"
"I was just asking, son. No need to get your back up."
Guy took a step toward Karl. "I'm not your son--"
I jumped between them, which was what Karl was hoping for. Rile Guy up and give me an excuse to get flustered.
I turned to Guy. "Please don't. Not tonight. I--I should just go, okay? I'll see you tomorrow."
Guy protested, but I made it clear I didn't want trouble and he stood watch as Karl led me back to the Lexus.
"Seems someone was hoping for a little company tonight," Karl mused. "Some mutual comforting perhaps in the wake of the crisis?"
"Trust me, Guy's not interested in the opposite sex."
Karl backed the car out. "Oh, I'm quite certain you're mistaken."
"Have a sixth sense for these things, do you?"
"No, but I have an excellent sense for signs of sexual attraction. It's difficult to lure a woman someplace quiet and divest her of her jewels without them."
"At the risk of being sexist, I'll suggest your radar works better on women than men, Karl. I've had enough attention since I got to Miami that my self-confidence is flying pretty high, and I'm telling you, Guy's not interested in me."
He muttered something under his breath, but didn't answer, just circled the block, then returned to check beneath the balcony.
"Too bad Guy interrupted," I said as we snuck around the rear of the building. "Otherwise, I could have just walked you down here before you changed back."
His look said he wasn't dignifying that with a retort.
"I always wanted a dog," I said, nearly running to keep up with his long strides. "My brothers were both allergic. Have I told you that?"
"Once or twice."
"Maybe, someday, you could humor me and--"
"Don't finish that sentence."
I grinned and jogged ahead, found the right balcony, then waved him over. "Up in the apartment, you didn't find any blood, did you?"
He shook his head and crouched.
"And scent trails? You could make out Jaz and Sonny, right? Oh, and now you know what Guy smells like--"
"Cologne. Which--" he glanced up at me, "--most men don't wear to go hunting for lost friends."
"Well, he didn't wear it for me, considering he didn't know I was at the apartment. Maybe he was hoping for company--heading out for some club-hopping to clear his head. But you could still smell his scent, couldn't you?"
"Vaguely."
"Well, then you have your four baseline scents including mine. Was there anyone else--"
He pressed a finger to my lips. "No, there wasn't. Now, may I finish what I'm trying to do here? Before someone hears us?"
"Sorry, I'm just--"
"Anxious. I know." As he ducked, I thought he brushed his lips across the top of my head. "Just a few minutes, and I'll have your answers."
He sniffed the ground without asking me to turn away. Then he tossed me the keys. "You go back to the car. I'll finish up here."
A few minutes later, he climbed into the driver's seat. "Nothing."
"No sign of Jaz or Sonny?"
"Almost no sign of anyone. There's little reason for anyone to walk that way unless they were planning a break-in--there are no ground-level patios and it isn't a shortcut to anywhere. The only trails I found were faint."
"Meaning old."
He nodded.
"And upstairs? Only the four of us?"
"That's harder to tell. Obviously far more traffic and it's hard for me to distinguish a day-old scent from an hour-old one. But I'm reasonably certain no one else was in that apartment today. And I'm absolutely certain no one climbed up or down that balcony. If the door was cracked open, it's because one of those boys opened it, and didn't close it right."
"Damn it, this doesn't make sense."
"No, it doesn't."
HOPE
MATING INSTINCT
We returned to my apartment. As we walked into the building, I said, "Thank you, Karl."
He hesitated, hand on the door.
I touched his arm. "I mean it. Thank you."
He nodded. As we walked through the lobby, Karl cleared his throat. "I'm sure it might be busy for you tomorrow, but if you can find the time, I'd like to take you to dinner."
"Dinner? Uh, sure."
"It's my birthday."
The admission was so unlike Karl that I was silent until we reached the elevator.
"I'd ask how old you'll be, but I know I'll never get it from you."
"Fifty."
I thanked God he picked that moment to push the button, leaving no chance to glimpse my reaction. I'd always guessed Karl was in his midforties, and fifty wasn't much older, but it seemed a lot older.
I could say it didn't matter--werewolves age slowly, so physically, Karl's no more than midthirties, but all that means is that when I'm walking down the street with him, I won't be mistaken for his daughter. In terms of life experience, he is fifty and that's what counts.
The elevator arrived and we stepped on.
"Is your birthday tomorrow? Or today?" I asked.
He checked his watch. "Oh, I see. Today, then."
I stood on my tiptoes and brushed my lips across his. "Happy birthday, Karl."
Before I could step back, he leaned down. His kiss was almost as brief as mine, but firm. Like his hands on my hips, pressing, but not pulling me to him, making me strain forward, hoping for more. But I only got that one brief kiss. When he pulled away, I found myself arching onto my tiptoes, prolonging the contact until the last possible moment. Then I jolted back onto flat feet.
I thought about what I was doing, the door I was reopening. Was I trying to reopen it? And if I was, did that mean I was closing another? I tried to remember Jaz, but his image wouldn't form. All I could think about was Karl.
My gaze down, I laid a tentative hand on Karl's chest. I listened to his breathing, felt the rise and fall of his chest and the warmth of him through his shirt, sensed his gaze on the top of my head, waiting for me to look up. But I couldn't.
"I hate this, Karl," I whispered. "Who'd have thought we'd come to this? You and me, snipping and snapping at each other. I hear us doing it, and I can't believe it. Not us."
"I'm sorry."
"You?" I managed a laugh, harsh to my ears. "I've been just as bad."
"But you had a reason to be angry."
I looked up, f
inally meeting his gaze. "And, maybe, so do you."
He inhaled. Exhaled. And looked away.
The elevator climbed another floor.
"Hope..."
His voice was so soft I wasn't sure I heard him, and I looked up. He touched my chin, fingers gliding up my jaw, so light that when I closed my eyes, I couldn't feel it. When I looked, his eyes were right there, inches from mine. He tilted my chin up--
The elevator dinged. As the doors opened, we both looked over. In unison, our gazes shunted to the button panel.
"That 'stop' button looks pretty good," I said.
He made a noise in his throat that sounded like agreement. "Unfortunately, if it stops for more than a couple of minutes, we'll be rescued by the building super."
"Had some experience with that, have you?"
He gave me a look. "On a job."
"That's what I meant. Seducing the marks in an elevator. How declasse."
A growl and he grabbed for me, but I quickstepped out of his reach and darted through the doors. He swung in front, caught me and slammed me against the door opening. His mouth crushed against mine, knocking the breath from me. The door bounced against my back, but he only pushed me into it, hands going to my rear, fingers digging in as he boosted me up, pushing between my legs until I straddled his hips.
I wrapped my hands in his hair, legs clasped around him, pulling him closer as he pressed into me, fierce and insistent. My brain whirled, a high made all the richer because there wasn't a chaos vibe to be found. It was all him. The smell of him, the taste of him, the--
The alarm buzzed right behind my head. The elevator, warning us that its door was blocked.
Karl snarled at it, and I laughed, and he turned the sound into a harrumph, with a glare that said I hadn't heard what I thought I heard. His lips went back to mine, punishingly hard, and my brain reeled, body arching into his, the ache so sharp that he could have taken me there and I wouldn't have noticed where we were. Noticed or cared.
He pulled back, my lip caught between his teeth. I shuddered and squirmed against him, and he let out a low growl, then swung me around, in two steps pressing me into the opposite wall, next to my apartment door. He thrust me against it, hard enough that he could let go with one hand and tug the keys from my pocket. Once the door was open, he tried to swing me through, but stumbled, and we crashed to the floor.
When I laughed, he gave me another "pretend you didn't notice that" glower. I closed my eyes, braced for another bruising kiss, but his lips brushed mine, feather light. I shivered. When I opened my eyes, he was right over me, and in his face was everything I'd seen that Valentine's night and later convinced myself I hadn't.