Living With the Dead

by Kelley Armstrong

"Something tells me I'm about to do a disappearing act." Damon's fingers silently drummed the armrest. "If I do, when you find her, don't tell - " He inhaled sharply.

  "Don't tell her about you."

  "Yeah."

  Finn turned at a hand-drawn parking sign.

  "It wouldn't be right," Damon said finally. "She'll have a lot on her mind and that would just freak her out."

  "I need her to trust me - and telling her I see ghosts, even yours, isn't going to help."

  A tight laugh. "Yeah."

  "Later, though, we could... figure something out."

  Damon nodded. After a few seconds of silence he said, "Sure. If it works out. That would be good."

  Five minutes later, Finn was flashing his badge at the ticket girl and stepping inside the fairgrounds. The backup team hadn't arrived, but Damon was still at his side.

  "Maybe whatever power decided to let you help me is going to let you see her," Finn said.

  "Or maybe it means she isn't here." Damon shook his head. "Damn, I'm a regular ray of sunshine tonight, aren't I?"

  But as they walked to the midway, Damon's mood did grow sunnier. The bounce returned to his step. He started singing along to a song playing at the rides. His gaze scoured the crowd, hope sparking in his eyes every time he caught sight of a blond head.

  "So where are you supposed to meet her?" Damon asked.

  "Here."

  "I meant where here."

  "She didn't specify."

  Damon stopped walking. Finn slowed, waiting for him to catch up. He didn't.

  "Either you think I'm a complete idiot or you're hoping I'm too worried to think straight. This is my wife we're talking about, Finn. She'd never hang up without giving you a meeting place, complete with a description, the nearest entrance and optimal parking. Hell, the fact she didn't offer to send MapQuest directions to your cell phone already told me she's worse off than she's letting on."

  Finn had resumed walking, scanning faces. "We got disconnected."

  "What?" Damon strode up beside him.

  "I was having trouble hearing her, then we were disconnected. I thought I heard a woman in the background. Maybe Adams. I couldn't make out what she said."

  A passing boy turned to stare up at Finn. "Who's that man talking - ?"

  His mother shushed him, then tugged him closer, arm going around him as she cast a nervous glance at Finn, stopping well short of making eye contact. At a place like this, people talking to themselves wouldn't be that uncommon. Still, he should be more careful or he'd find himself explaining the situation to security.

  "Did she call back?" Damon asked.

  Finn shook his head.

  "Did you call her?"

  He nodded.

  "And?" Damon prompted.

  "Her phone's turned off."

  "When's the last time you tried?"

  Finn motioned for Damon to keep looking as he took out his cell. This time, he didn't get the message that the customer was "unavailable." It just rang and rang.

  "So?" Damon said when Finn hung up.

  "Nothing."

  Damon nodded, presuming that meant the phone was still turned off. Finn started to pocket it.

  "Shouldn't you keep that out?" Damon said. "You can use it when you're talking to me instead of scaring the kiddies."

  Finn wasn't comfortable with the subterfuge - which explained why he kept forgetting to do it - but it had to be better than talking to himself in public.

  Still scouring the crowds, they passed a row of games.

  "Hey," Damon said. "Ring toss. I remember Bobby..."

  He let the sentence fade.

  The cell phone rang. He checked the caller ID.

  "It's her," he said.

  He retreated into a quieter spot between two booths, then answered. For a moment, he heard only the noise of the fair through the phone, a tinny stereo to the commotion around him.

  "Hello?" she said, her voice tentative, as if he'd called her.

  "Robyn?"

  "Yes. You called?"

  "It's Detective Findlay. I'm at the fair. Where are you?"

  A longer pause now. Damon had climbed onto a game booth and was scanning the crowd.

  "Robyn?" Finn said.

  "Sorry, I..." Another pause. Then, "He's here, Detective. I'm - "a sharp breath. "I - I'm just so scared. I thought I was safe, calling you, and then he was right there, coming for me, so I had to hang up and run, and then I tried phoning back but my phone wasn't working and - "

  "Slow down, Robyn."

  Hearing that, Damon glanced over.

  "He's here, Detective. He's here, somewhere, and I can't see him and I - "

  "Slow down, Robyn. Who's there? Who's following you?"

  Damon jumped off the counter, the alarm in his eyes tempered by confusion.

  "I-I need to get out of here, Detective. I can't stay. He'll find me and then he'll kill me. I know he will. Just like he killed that poor cop and - "

  "Robyn, I need you to take a deep breath and calm down."

  Damon stepped close enough to listen in.

  Finn continued, "The man who's following you. He's the one who shot Officer Kendall?"

  "Right. And the other one, Portia's bodyguard. I went to his house - "

  "Judd Archer."

  "Right."

  "Are you sure it's the same man?"

  "Of course I'm sure. He was right there. On that street and at Judd's house. He's tall with dark hair and a scar under his eye. I'm not sure if it's the left or right eye. Left, I think. He's wearing a green jacket. He's here somewhere, at the fair. I can't stay. I have to get out of here. Will you find him for me? Stop him?"

  "I'll do my best."

  The line went dead.

  "That - " Damon began.

  " - wasn't Robyn. I know."

  * * *

  ROBYN

  Robyn turned to run from the man. She knew it was futile - he was close enough to grab her. But he didn't. She was so surprised that she stumbled, twisting to look back at him.

  He stood there. Smiling. "Ten. Nine. Eight."

  Robyn ran.

  The forest couldn't be that big. The path had to lead to the other side. Unless it just looped around to where it started...

  "Ready or not..."

  Robyn dove into the brush. She hit the ground, skidding through the undergrowth, shoulder flaring, a branch scraping her cheek a mere inch from her eye. She scrambled in deeper, every move making the brush crackle and snap like gunfire.

  She dropped, turned toward the path and stretched out on her stomach. The vegetation sprang back up, cradling her. Flat on the ground, she watched the man's pale face bobbing along the path. It stopped directly parallel to where she lay.

  He turned and crossed his arms. His sigh wafted through the quiet forest. "Oh, come on. If you're going to play, you have to do better than that. I can smell you. I can see in the dark. What the hell did Marsten teach you about werewolves?"

  Robyn choked back a laugh. Did he really say werewolves? He was going to have to do better than that if he wanted to scare her.

  He couldn't see her. He'd just approximated where the noise had come from.

  "Are you going to make me come in there after you, blondie?"

  Like to see you try, Mr. Werewolf.

  He took a step into the forest. Then another, and another, sauntering along as easily as if he was still on the path, ducking branches she couldn't even see, heading straight for her.

  Her shirt.

  She'd tried to buy one as dark as possible, but it had white stripes. Against the darkness, she must stand out like a zebra on a dimly lit plain.

  She tensed, but held still, hoping she was wrong, that he was still guessing -

  He stopped four feet away, his face turning to hers, teeth flashing against the night.

  She leapt to her feet and barreled through the undergrowth, glancing over her shoulder to see him still sauntering, unhindered by the brush, not even bothering to run
.

  She was veering to circle back to the path when she caught the flash of reflective tape on a tree and ran for it. The path. Thank God. She rammed through the last patch of brush. Vines grabbed her feet, but she yanked free and hit the path at a run.

  Just find the end. This wasn't the Amazon jungle.

  Footsteps pounded on the path behind her. Now he was running.

  Just keep going. Keep -

  Robyn tripped over a root and sprawled face-first to the dirt, hands flying out, her skinned palms and injured shoulder screaming.

  Ignore it. Get up and -

  A hand grabbed her foot and yanked. Her face slammed into the dirt. With a bone-wrenching jerk, he flipped her onto her back.

  "Not bad, blondie. Not bad at all. Wanna have another go? I figure we have - " He checked his watch. "At least ten minutes before the cavalry arrives. Marsten's good at following a scent, but he'll hate sniffing the ground to do it. Grass stains are a bitch to get out of Armani. Or so I hear."

  He was casual and relaxed, still smiling. Sweat dripped into Robyn's eyes. He wasn't even breathing heavy. Just a pleasant jog through the woods. She couldn't escape him, no more than she could Adele.

  Ah, but you did escape Adele, Bobby. Look around. She's long gone.

  Sure, that was because she was still back at the fair, sipping a soda while her thug partner beat the crap out of Robyn.

  She hadn't escaped. She'd run straight into a trap.

  "Well, are you getting up? I'm going to give you another chance."

  "Sure, like Lucy gives Charlie Brown another chance to kick the football."

  He threw back his head, laughing. "Sharp one, aren't you? I'm glad to see you still have some spunk. Now let's see you use it. Of course, I don't plan to let you get away, but you don't really have much choice, do you? How about I give you to the count of twenty this time?"

  Robyn rose slowly, brushing herself off as she looked around, getting her bearings. The man eased back, relaxing.

  "Come on now," he said. "We're on a schedule here."

  "Before I do - "

  She wheeled, as if to bolt. The man lunged at her. She spun and kicked, aiming for his crotch. She saw her foot flying, on target. At the last second, he grabbed her ankle, so fast she saw only a blur. He whipped her off her feet and threw her. She hit the ground and lay there, gasping, her brain struggling to comprehend why she was on her back and how she got there.

  The man stood at least ten feet away. He'd thrown her. Grabbed her by the leg and thrown her like a doll. She stared at him, his slight build, his wiry arms.

  He was barely bigger than she was. How the hell had she mistaken him for Karl? Forget that. How the hell had he thrown her ten feet?

  "That was good," he said, advancing. "A double fake-out. Of course, I wouldn't be nearly as impressed if you'd succeeded with that kick." He smiled, teeth flashing. "In fact, I'd say if you had managed it, you'd have been in for a double-dose of pain."

  Wheezing, she pushed up onto her elbows and inched back. The man strolled over and planted a foot on her chest. When she rose, tentatively, he kicked her injured shoulder, bringing tears to her eyes.

  And still he smiled.

  "So, what are you?" he asked. He said something that sounded like "bitch," then continued, "Because if you are, I'd say you need some serious practice with your spellbook. If you cast one, I didn't even notice."

  Witch? Had he said witch?

  "Maybe half-demon, like your friend?" he continued. "Mmm, now there's a cutie. Nothing against you, blondie, but I like them more exotic."

  Was he talking about Hope?

  "And from what I hear, she's definitely exotic. Some rare kind of demon, isn't she? The kind that likes trouble." A low, growling laugh. "Really likes trouble, the way I hear it. No wonder Marsten hooked up with her."

  Marsten? Robyn struggled to remember Karl's last name. It was Marsten, wasn't it? What the hell was going on?

  She squeezed her eyes shut. Forget it. If this was Adele's partner, he was probably just as crazy as she was. Demons and witches and werewolves. Insane.

  The man's next words were cut off by his cell phone.

  He checked the display. "Ah, the boss. Now keep your mouth shut, blondie, okay? Or else..." He put his foot on her shoulder, making her gasp. Then he answered with a "Hey."

  A moment's pause.

  "Not so well. Got a bit of a problem. I was following Marsten and his girlfriend, and they led me to the blonde. Adele was chasing her with a gun. I rescued her, which I figured was what you'd want, but I couldn't do it without making contact. She's not nearly as grateful as she should be."

  He listened.

  "That's what I figured. I was going to bring her to you, but Marsten's hot on my trail. We've been dodging them, but they're gaining. I can hear him coming right now."

  Robyn heard only the wind sighing through the trees.

  "I'm just saying, this might not go down the way you were hoping. I have a feeling, as hard as I try to avoid it, fur is gonna fly." His grin belied the regret in his voice. "Marsten's a cold-blooded bastard. Negotiations with a guy like that usually end with corpses. Just so you know."

  A pause.

  "All right then. I'll do my best - "

  Robyn grabbed his foot and heaved. When the man staggered back, off balance, she leapt up, wrenching his leg. He toppled over backward, phone falling.

  Robyn ran.

  Curses rang out behind her. This time, she was sure the word he used wasn't witch.

  She ran full out, adrenaline pumping so hard that if her lungs were complaining, she didn't feel it. She kept her head down, watching the moonlit path for obstacles this time.

  The path had to end soon. It had to -

  And there it was. The end. A barricade across the path with a white sign so big she could read it in the dark. "Soil erosion. Path closed. We apologize for the inconvenience."

  She let out a huffing laugh. They had no idea how damned inconvenient it was. Screw soil erosion. She was going through.

  She vaulted over the barrier. Amazing what adrenaline could do.

  She ran another dozen paces, then pulled up short on the edge of a ten-foot drop-off.

  Uh, I do believe that's the soil erosion, Bobby.

  She considered jumping, but couldn't see the bottom in the dark and would probably impale herself on a retaining rod.

  There had to be a way around. She ran into the bushes and found herself in a veritable jungle, so thick she'd need a machete to chop her way through. The running footsteps sounded again.

  She flailed about until she found a clear path. Once she got in deeper, she could take advantage of the thick woods to hide -

  A figure loomed in her path. She let out a shriek. He lunged and grabbed her, his hand slapping over her mouth, his other arm swinging her off her feet, carrying her, kicking and writhing before setting her down in a clearing, still gagged, with one hand pressing the top of her head.

  "Get down. Hope?"

  Another pair of hands tugged her shirt. "I've got her. Rob, get down."

  Robyn recognized the voices but after the last time, she didn't trust herself. She followed the hand over her mouth and saw Karl.

  "Down," he said.

  Hope grabbed her arm and pulled her to her knees.

  "Come out, come out, wherever you are," the man's voice sang out. Brush rustled, then stopped. "What's that I smell? The big bad wolf took the bait?"

  Karl swung toward them. "Get her out of here," he said to Hope.

  Hope didn't move. Robyn looked over to see her staring into the forest, her eyes gleaming, unseeing, her face blank.

  "Hope," Karl snapped.

  "She's scared," Robyn snapped back. "I'll get her out. Which way - ?"

  "Hope," Karl said, getting her attention. "Control it."

  "Sorry. I'm fine." Hope shivered.

  "Asshole," Robyn muttered.

  Karl's gaze swung her way, as if he'd heard. She imagined Damon'
s chuckle. I don't think he expects insults after rescuing you, Bobby.

  "Come on." Hope tugged her arm.

  Robyn glanced at Karl, who'd turned away, dismissing them as he scanned the forest.

  "He'll be fine," Hope said. "We need to go."

  Um, Bobby, if the dude wants to play he-man, that's his problem. Get the hell out of there.

  Robyn unlocked her knees and let Hope lead her through the undergrowth. After a few steps, Hope slowed, her chin lifting, that same blank look crossing her face. Robyn took her elbow, but Hope yelled "Karl!" grabbed Robyn and yanked her back.

  "Damn, she's good," said a voice in front of them.

  Robyn froze and squinted into the darkness. It was another moment before the man stepped out of the trees, right in their path. Clutching a gun, Hope stood between Robyn and the man.

  Where the hell did Hope get a gun?

  "Guess I can't sneak up on you, can I, demon-girl? So how does that work? You catch a vision, right?" He lifted his foot, easing forward. "You see me coming."

  "Stop," Hope said.

  "Have you got silver in that gun? Because if you don't - "

  "I don't need silver bull - " Hope glanced over at Robyn, then back at the man. "Just stop."

  Karl stood a dozen feet behind Robyn. He seemed to be measuring the distance between himself and the man, gauging whether he could get to the guy before he pounced on Hope. His jaw tightened, as if he didn't like the answer.

  "Hope?" Karl said. "Back up toward me."

  Hope didn't move. Robyn couldn't see why she had to - she was holding a gun on an unarmed man.

  "Hope?" Karl's voice sharpened to a razor edge.

  Robyn shot a glare at him.

  "I don't think she wants your help, old man," the other guy said. "She's having too much fun. You like a little danger, don't you, babe? Gets your motor revving."

  Hope's eyes were glittering again. Sweat sparkled across her cheeks and forehead. She breathed fast through her mouth. Not fear, Robyn realized. Excitement.

  "Got a real lust for trouble, don't you, babe? How hot are you right now? I bet you're so wet - "

  Karl snarled, an inhuman sound that sent Robyn spinning to look at him. He strained forward, face twisted with rage.

  "Karl." It was Hope's turn to snap a sharp warning.

  Robyn tensed for Karl's reaction, but he only murmured, "I know, I know," then rolled back on his heels. "Just back up. I'll be okay if you back up."

  "Am I making you nervous, old man? Why? Just because I could break her neck before she fired that gun? Don't worry, babe. Killing you isn't what I have in mind. How about a deal? You come along with me. See how much more fun you could have with someone your own age. We'll leave the old dog with blondie. She's more his speed."