No Humans Involved

'Hey, at least it's not alien transmitters. You have no idea how sick I am of aliens-sightings, implants, abductions… it never ends. But demons? That's a lot rarer. Obviously the whole 'impregnating human women and creating a master race to take over the world' thing isn't working out for them. If I'm the best they can do, the apocalypse is in serious trouble. As a backup plan, controlling large-breasted women isn't too shabby.'

'Start with subliminal messages in Hustler. Work your way up to Playboy… I can see it.'

'If anyone can bring down the politicians in this country, it's hot women with breast implants.'

I laughed. 'Any more tips for the council in here?' I asked, pointing to the stack.

'Nah. There's a piece on a body found with fang marks. Cassandra and Aaron suspect it's a vampire's annual kill. They're investigating, and will give the careless vamp a slap on the wrist, but they told me not to bother killing the story. Corpses with fang marks? Passe. And even if my editor had wanted me to investigate it for a full-blown article, I could convince him it wasn't worth the inches. That's mostly what I do-not so much suppressing real supernatural stories as downplaying them and, in most cases, like this one, even that isn't necessary.'

'Must be an… interesting job.'

She grinned. 'Oh, come on. Say it. Cheesy is the word.'

'You're talking to a woman who pretends to contact the dead and returns the same message every time. Cheesy is my life.'

'Fun, isn't it?'

I smiled. 'Yes. Yes, it is.'

We talked about her job as she continued to search for informa-tion, multitasking like a pro. After a half-hour, Jeremy called again to say he was outside Botnick's home. He'd keep watch for another hour or so, see whether this was just a pit stop or if the man was settling in for the night.

At nine-thirty, Jeremy checked in. Botnick-who lived alone-had eaten, and was now in front of the television. As it looked likely he was home for the duration, Jeremy decided it was a good opportunity to take a closer look at his store. He asked me to pass him to Hope.

At his request, she zoomed in on an aerial photograph of Botnick's shop, then relayed its layout and potential entry points.

'So you're doing a little B and E?' she said. 'Too bad Karl's in Massachusetts.'

She paused.

'Ah, Arizona this week, is it? Glad someone knows where that man is. If you need him, though, you tell him to haul his ass over here. Whatever job he's pulling, he doesn't need the money and this is more important.' She tapped at her keyboard. 'Speaking of help, could you use ours? We can be there in-'

She paused. 'No, I understand, but I could help. Karl's taught me a few things about casing a place-strictly for information, of course-and I'm sure the extra eyes would come in handy.'

Another pause. She nibbled her lip, eyes down as she listened.

'I know, but I'd love to help, risks or no risks. Hey, if things do go wrong, I'll even take the fall for you. I'm an ambitious tabloid reporter-no one's going to question why I'm breaking into a place like that. Plus, it's experience, right? If I'm helping the council, I need to build up my arsenal of skills, legal and otherwise.'

There was a note of puppyish pleading in her voice. She reminded me of Paige-always in the thick of things, taking any risk to help others. Frustrated from hours of research, I found myself sharing her enthusiasm, even seconding it loud enough for Jeremy to overhear.

After a moment, she grinned at me, flashed a thumbs-up, then handed back my phone. 'He wants us to meet him in the lot behind the shop in ninety minutes. That'll give him time to find a way in first.'

She turned back to her computer, continuing down the list.

'So Karl Marsten is giving you break-and-enter tips?'

'Against his will. He doesn't like me doing stuff like that. But we have an agreement. He teaches me B and E and I cook for him. You know werewolves.' She grinned. 'Feed them well and feed them often, and you can win any argument.'

I wished it was that easy with Jeremy. For him, food was just fuel. Which was okay with me, because cooking-like most domestic skills-wasn't one of my strong points.

'So I guess you and Karl are together?'

'Nah. Just friends.' She printed off a page. 'That's strange enough. I'm a half-demon with delusions of crime fighting. He's a werewolf jewel thief. Logically, we shouldn't be able to stand one another. But as a friendship, it works.' She hit print again, then pushed back her chair. 'Okay, let's see what we've got.'

WE WERE eying the clock when Hope's cell phone rang. As she glanced at the display, she cursed under her breath, hesitated, then seemed to think better of it and answered. A string of 'uh-huhs' followed, her shoulders slumping with each one.

After listening to the caller for at least thirty seconds, she said, 'Could this wait until morning? I'm hot on a trail tonight-'

Pause.

'It's still in the early stages, but it's about ritual magic-'

Pause.

'I know we covered that new Voodoo club opening last month, but this is different-'

Pause. She closed her eyes, sighing softly.

'Yes, yes, I'm sure a 'Bigfoot in L.A. ' story doesn't come along all that often but-'

Pause. A deeper sigh.

'Okay, I'm on it.'

When she hung up, I said, 'Bigfoot?'

'Apparently he's been spotted cutting through an alley near a nightclub.'

I paused. 'I hate to break it to you, but it's probably-'

'A guy promoting a new movie? Or 'Monster Pizza'? I know. So does my editor. It doesn't matter. The point is that multiple witnesses claimed to have seen Bigfoot. That's indisputable. So I go out, interview some stoned clubbers, collect grainy cell-phone pic-tures of the monster and write it up under the headline 'Bigfoot Spotted in L. A.?''

'I see.'

'It's the question mark that makes the difference. We're not saying he was in L.A. just that the claim was made.'

'Uh-huh.'

'Tabloid journalism: where the truth comes with many loopholes, and we know how to exploit every one of them.'

She turned off her computer. 'The club is on the way to Botnick's place. We can share a cab. I'm going to whip through this monster story, then fly back to help you guys.'

I HAD the taxi driver drop me off a block from the shop, just in case Botnick reported the break-in later. As I scanned the road, lined with pawn shops and massage parlors, I realized I was being overcautious. Break-ins in this neighborhood wouldn't warrant more than a police drop-in. Even if someone did canvas the taxi companies' drop-offs, I looked suspicious only in that I didn't seem like someone seeking a late-night body rub. Giving them maybe.

My clicking heels echoed like a siren's call to would-be muggers. I walked slower, trying to muffle the sound. Rather than fret over being dropped off too close to the scene, I should have been considering the wisdom of wearing high heels to a break-and-enter.

Behind me, a car rounded the corner, engine revving. I walked faster. The entrance to the shop parking lot was less than a store length away. Better to get there before the oncoming car reached me or I might suffer the humiliation of being mistaken for a hooker within earshot of Jeremy. I did up a button and walked faster.

'Jaime?'

I jumped. Jeremy stepped from an alcove, hand going to my arm to steady me. I rapped him with my knuckles.

'We're belling you. I swear it.'