Living With the Dead (Otherworld 9)

Robyn glanced at the door. Were Hope and Karl really coming? "You said this isn't council business because it involves clairvoyants. I presume that's what you are?"

"Hmmm."

His gaze stayed fixed on a spot by her feet, as if too wrapped up in thought to answer her question. Thought? No. He was lost in a vision, watching Karl and Hope. She shivered.

No time to get freaked out, Bobby. It's a brave new world. Adjust.

She rubbed the back of her neck. "Do you speak for the clairvoyants, then? Is that what this 'collision of interest' is about? The council is trespassing on your jurisdiction?"

"The concerns of the clairvoyants are very specialized. We don't expect the council to understand."

"You represent them, though? The clairvoyants?"

He straightened, eyes finally focusing. "Your friend is an Expisco, isn't she? I heard that, but I 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.