Personal Demon by Kelley Armstrong Page B

to many clubs, I expected conversation to be impossible, but the booth must have been specially soundproofed. I still had to strain to hear, but could carry on a conversation.
    Bianca set Tony and Max on a group of fortyish women trying hard to look twenty.
    After they left, she turned to me. “Faith, I’d like you to—”
    “Bee?”
    Jaz appeared at her shoulder, dressed in a vintage wide-collared off-white dress shirt and black jeans.
    “I thought I’d squire the lady around for a while. Introduce her to some people. Maybe take a tour of the dance floor.”
    Bianca looked from me to Jaz. “You two should catch some eyes. Make sure you do—have fun, play it up.
    You know the drill.”
    I soon understood why Jaz had made it into the gang despite his weak supernatural type. The guy had phenomenal people skills. As we circled the room, it was nonstop “How’s the new job going?” and “Saw you in the paper last week” and “Hey, that girl you were checking out last time is here—without her boyfriend.” Most people would sound smarmy and false, but Jaz had such an aura of bouncy good humor he pulled it off.
    “Can I stop now?” he whispered as we left yet another group.
    I choked on a laugh. “But you seem to be having such a good time.”
    “Not having a bad one but—” He shrugged. “Not my crowd, really. Any chance I can talk you into a break on the dance floor?”
    “Done.”
    Jaz was a good dancer. Not fantastic, but decent enough that he didn’t make a fool of himself, which summed up my own skills.
    “Poor Max,” he said during a lull in the pounding beat.
    I followed his gaze to a corner where Max and Tony were chatting up the ladies Bianca had set them on.
    Every now and then Max’s attention would wander.
    “Not enjoying his assignment?” I asked.
    “He’s got the looks, so Guy makes him play the floor, but he doesn’t care much for humans and has a hard time faking it. Like being gay and pretending you’re interested in girls.”
    “He doesn’t date humans?”
    A genuine look of surprise. “Do you?”
    I took advantage of an upbeat in the tempo to formulate my answer. Where I came from, if I didn’t date humans, my social calendar would be very bare. Actually, it had been bare for about a year now, but that was another matter. Even calling nonsupernaturals “humans” seemed weird. The council sometimes used the word, but sparingly, as if it was borderline racist. To say, “I don’t date humans” seemed like saying, “I don’t date white guys.”
    But if I had the choice, wouldn’t I prefer supernaturals? Not because I thought we were superior, but because they’d understand me better. Like if I moved to India, I’d probably date Americans.
    I told the truth. “I don’t have much choice where I come from but, if I did, I suppose I’d rather stick to supernaturals.”
    “It’s not just the ‘can’t reveal my secret powers’ thing. Not like my powers need much cover-up anyway.
    It’s just more comfortable, you know? Like being in the gang. Hanging out with others like us. Helping each other.”
    He glanced toward Max, then smiled and moved closer, lips to my ear. “Which gives me an idea. What do you say we preempt Guy’s testing?”
    “Hmm?”
    “Guy wants to test you. Let’s beat him to it. Help Max out and show Guy what you can do. The sooner he trusts you, the quicker he’ll bring you in on the big jobs. And there’s something in the pipe right now.” His lips brushed my ear. “Trust me, you won’t want to miss it.”

    WE JOINED MAX, Tony and the three women. I’d been reluctant—I couldn’t see them welcoming a younger woman—but Jaz had insisted it’d be okay. He was right. I came with my own guy, so I wasn’t competition.
    Having Max and Tony introduce them to friends seemed to waylay any suspicions that they were being played. And when I acted as if they were my age, it confirmed that the money they’d spent trying to look twenty again had