No Humans Involved

reviled as witches. And don't even get me started on the misunderstandings about the church of Satan. Even reasonable people who hold no prejudice against Wiccans and other pagans would hide their cats and babies if a satanist moved in next door.'

Rona said, 'Which is not to say that there aren't people out there practicing animal sacrifice and such. It does happen. As for who you could talk to…'

The three brainstormed a short list of contacts. Most were not practitioners, but experts or former practitioners with groups known or believed to practice the 'darker arts.' As shortcuts went, this one was more safe than short-circumventing the dangerous underbelly of the pseudoparanormal world. That underbelly was where we'd have to eventually go, but there was no way to tell these people that-not with the cover story we'd given.

We took the names, chatted for a bit, then thanked them. May gave us her phone numbers and offered to help in any way she could. As May and Rona led Jeremy and me out, I glanced back at Hope. She was laughing at something Zack said, and waved us on. In the lobby, May and Rona headed down to the underground lot while Jeremy and I went out the front door.

'Should we wait for Hope?' I said.

'We'll start walking. I expect she'll be along soon.'

'Guess she's not seeing Karl Marsten anymore, huh?'

He glanced at me, brows knitting. 'Oh, you mean…' He nodded. 'As for Karl, I'm not certain she ever was involved with him. Whatever their relationship, they're still in contact. In staying behind to chat with that young man, I think she has something other than romance in mind. Did you notice when they were giving us the list? He clearly wanted to add something, but was uncertain.'

'Missed that completely. I was busy jotting down names and groaning over the thought of doing all these interviews.'

He chuckled. 'I don't blame you.'

'So you think the group's hiding something? Something they didn't want Zack telling us?'

Jeremy shook his head. 'My guess is it's a wild-'

'Jaime?'

I turned to see Rona hurrying up behind us. Jeremy arched a brow my way, as if to say that Zack might not be the only one who hadn't spoken up inside.

'Sorry,' Rona said as she caught up, her large form shaking as she wheezed from the exertion. 'I wanted to give you my card. May can be difficult to contact at times-especially on court days.'

She handed us each a business card.

'Please don't hesitate to contact me if you have questions or if you just want a sounding board. The paranormal can be a confusing area to navigate, and a guide is always useful.'

'I'm sure that's true,' Jeremy said. 'Thank you.'

When she left, Jeremy watched her go, then steered me into a coffee shop. 'Let's take a seat in the window and watch for Hope.'

HOPE PASSED the coffee shop window a few minutes later, as Jeremy was still waiting in line. I waved her in. Jeremy called her over to get her order, then joined us with take-out coffees. We headed outside.

'Did Flynn tell you whatever he was holding back in the meeting?' Jeremy asked.

'You picked that up too? You should be a reporter. Yes, Zack has a source he wanted to pass on, a shady one-and probably an unreliable one.'

'Which is why he was reluctant to mention it in front of the others.'

She nodded. 'May is trying to give us respectable contacts. This guy is anything but. His name is Eric Botnick. Straddles the line between serious practitioner and wannabe. He runs an occult shop and heads a group that calls itself the Disciples of Asmodai. Not affiliated with any known faith practice. Into some… questionable stuff.'

'How questionable?' I asked.

'Mainly sexual. Definitely not to be confused with Wiccan or tantric sex magic. This is hard-core S and M. Emphasis on submission and dominance. Group sex with bondage, flagellation and bloodletting. It's supposed to release magical energies.'

'Uh-huh.'

'Exactly. The whole thing sounds like an excuse to indulge in some hard-core fetishes. But Zack says Botnick is very serious about the magic angle, even if his group members may be there to scratch other itches.'

'Any link to children?' I asked.

'As far as Zack knows, the Disciples are all consenting adults. While they haven't found any cause for concern, the group keeps a close eye on them. Zack says May has it in for Botnick.'

'She thinks he's into something darker than consensual bondage?'

'Zack seems to think May just doesn't like that part, but May's never struck me as the closed-minded sort. Live and let live, I think she'd say… unless she suspected not all the women in the group were as consenting as Botnick claims. Then she'd be all over it.'

'Ah.'

'Now, with the cover story you gave, it's this Disciples of Asmodai group that Zack thinks might interest us. But what I think you'll find more interesting is something else about Botnick. One of Zack's informants in this underground told him that Botnick's been promising his group that something big is on the horizon. He's been hinting at a major breakthrough. Something about powerful magic. True magic.'

I chocked on my coffee. Jeremy patted my back.

'Sorry,' Hope said. 'I should have prefaced that by saying it sounds like a better lead than it probably is. According to Zack, Botnick has serious credibility issues. The guy's been promising his followers this 'true magic' for months. Zack thinks it's just a ploy to keep disgruntled disciples from leaving the flock. He hasn't even mentioned it to May and the others-he had an embarrassing experience last year when he gave May a hot tip about Botnick that went nowhere and she was not pleased.'

'Still sounds like something we need to check out.'

DISCIPLES OF ASMODAI

HOPE FOUND WORK AND HOME ADDRESSES for Botnick. Jeremy, with his new prepaid cell, headed out on a tracking expedition. He invited me along, but I figured I'd only get in the way. Hunting was his area. I'd stay behind with Hope as she dug up details on the contact names the Ehrich Weiss Society had provided us.

We went to her office. No need to worry about being caught researching S and M cults on an office computer- in Hope's line of work, she'd get commended for putting in the extra effort.

No one else was working overtime. The office was barely larger than her apartment, and not nearly as clean. It stank of burned coffee, stale burritos and overflowing ashtrays that shot a middle finger to the state's workplace smoking ban.

There was one semiprivate room, presumably for the editor. In the main area, a central table was covered with papers, printers and fax machines. Four to six desks were crammed along the walls-it was tough to tell the exact number, the way papers spilled from one surface to the next, and cables snaked everywhere.

As we picked our way through the cable jungle, Hope explained that few of the staff worked from the office. Most spent their days on the streets, tracking down the latest celebrity infidelity or plastic surgery rumor.

We'd just settled in when Jeremy called to say he'd found Botnick closing down his shop. He'd follow him and see where he went.

When I hung up, Hope was tapping away at the keyboard. I glanced at a stack of papers. The top one looked like an edited printout of an article with her byline.

'Mind if I…?' I waved at the article.

'Enjoy. Oh, and I think we need to bring that particular case to the attention of the council right away. Definitely threat potential.'

'Demon transmitters in breast implants?'