She sauntered past him. There was no sway in her stride, but his gaze was glued to her every step of the way.

"How about a wager?" he said. "Whoever's story gets more inches gets dinner at Patina."

Hope laughed. "You think I can afford Patina on my salary?"

"Oh, right. Forgot. Hmm. McDonald's then?"

Another laugh and she shooed him from the room. He was too busy bantering to notice she hadn't agreed to the wager.

"Not your type?" I asked when Zack was gone.

"As a friend, yes. But I don't-" A cloud passed behind her eyes, then she forced a wide smile. "Between playing weird-tales girl for True News, girl Friday for the council and chaos demon-in-training, my life is pretty darned full. I'm trying to set Zack up with a preschool teacher at our gym-a nice normal girl who doesn't see death and destruction on every street corner. More his speed, I think."

I glanced around. "Being here… is that okay for you?"

"If you mean because of those poor kids, I'm not seeing anything, so I'd presume they weren't killed here. I'm exaggerating with the 'every street corner' thing. On average, I get maybe a couple of visions a day and most aren't so bad. Though I did notice something in the dining room when I passed."

"The hanging guy?"

"You can see him too?"

"Every time I sit down for a meal."

"And you eat in there? Seeing that?" She shook her head. "I've got a lot of work to do before I hit that stage. They still catch me off guard. Sometimes badly off guard. Like when I met Karl. Hugely embarrassing. "

She stopped there.

I tapped my watch. "We have about another twenty minutes to make this look like a real interview. Spill."

"It was in a buffet line, which probably isn't the strangest place to meet a werewolf. I'm minding my own business, eyeing this nice roast duck centerpiece. Then everything goes black and I'm running through a dark forest. I snap out of it and there, on the table, is the duck-now freshly killed, blood and entrails everywhere. I freaked."

"Don't blame you."

"I spun around and hit the guy behind me. Knocked the plate from his hands. Snagged my bracelet on his sleeve. Generally made a fool of myself. Being Karl, he was as cool and suave as could be, which only made it worse."

She shook her head, but the smile playing on her lips told me she hadn't taken it as badly as she pretended.

"And the vision was Karl… chasing someone?"

"Nah. Just a general 'hi, I'm a werewolf image tag."

"You can tell what kind of supernaturals we are?"

She waggled her hand. "Iffy. The stronger the power, the more likely I'll get a vision. It's like detecting chaos. If that hanged guy was jumping off the table right now, I'dprobably get a flash. If he was just thinking about it, I have about a twenty percent shot."

"You can read thoughts?"

I must have looked worried, because she lifted her hands.

"No, no. Not like that. I pick up chaotic thoughts. For example, if you're sitting there thinking my shirt is god-ugly, I wouldn't know. If you're thinking about wrapping your hands around my neck and strangling the life from me, I may pick it up."

"Handy."

"The key word is may, I'm afraid. Not as useful as it sounds."

We chatted for a while longer, swapping stories.

As for the interview, she might still do a story, but that would come later. True News came out weekly, meaning it wasn't a timely way to get the group's attention. But if Zack's interview and the other media bits didn't lure them out, Hope's article would run next week, with more damning details that would definitely spark their interest.

AFTERWARD, I gave some sound bites to the biggest TV news crews- just enough to ensure they knew whose vibes had led to the body- then slipped away in search of peace and Jeremy. As I passed the living room, I heard someone being pelted with questions. Those crews who hadn't been lucky enough to get an interview with Grady or me had tracked down a substitute.

"Um, yes," Angelique was saying. "I have picked up some, uh, feelings in the yard."

"You mean the garden, don't you?" someone said.

"Have you heard voices?" another voice asked. "Or seen anything?"

Angelique stumbled through an answer. The kid was just too young to give a full improv performance. She'd been kept out of the loop on all this, and now microphones were being shoved in her face. As much as I wanted to find Jeremy, I felt guilty.

"Hey, guys," I said as I walked into the living room. "Are you boys pouncing on this poor girl? We just found a body in the garden. She's a wee bit shaken up, aren't you, hon?"

I put my arm around her and squeezed her shoulder. Angelique shot me a grateful look.

"I've never seen a dead body before," she said, her honeyed southern accent pitch-perfect again. She shivered. "I only hope that poor child has gone to a better place. She'll be in my prayers-"

"Jaime," a hook-nosed man cut in, motioning for his cameraman to swing the camera to focus on me. "You led Bradford Grady to that body. What did you sense?"

I tugged Angelique on camera with me. "We've all sensed things in this house, for days now-"

"But you helped discover the body. What was your experience?"

I kept trying to steer the questions back to include Angelique, but they were having none of it, and it soon became apparent that I was only hogging any camera time she might have received. So I made my excuses and fled.