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Authors: Carrie Vaughn

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I picked myself up and wandered to where Grant was sitting. He watched me. I tried not to be nervous.

“Mind if I join you?” I said.

“Of course not.”

I sat cross-legged, nearby. “Your show yesterday made Tina a little edgy.”

He gave a thin smile. “That wasn’t a show. Stage hypnotism looks completely different.”

“I get the feeling that wouldn’t make her feel any better.”

“She opened a door. Accessed a dark place. She should be nervous.”

“This is all so vague. Conrad’s not half wrong about some of this stuff. It’s hard to believe when it’s all just shadows.”

“If it was more than shadows, we’d be able to see it clearly. We wouldn’t be as terrified.”

I wanted to deny that I was terrified. I hadn’t reached that level yet. But it wasn’t too far a leap from lurking anxiety
to terror. “You? Terrified?” I said, smiling to take the edge off my prodding.

“Watchful,” he said.

“Don’t get me wrong. I trust you implicitly. But I also suspect you don’t do much of anything without an ulterior motive.
You agreed to do this show because it would bring you in contact with certain people. It would get you access to information.
What brought you here? What are you looking for?”

He pursed his lips, looking thoughtfully over the lake, its surface sparkling with sunlight on ripples of water.

“Shadows,” he said finally. “The trouble in Las Vegas last year was just a thread in a larger… web. I almost called it a tangle,
but it’s too organized for that. You know it—you’ve seen it. You’ve faced it. You tell me whether we ought to be terrified
by it.”

This was far too serious a conversation to be having in such a beautiful setting. I ought to rip off my clothes and join the
others for a swim in the lake. I said, “I’ve decided to ignore it for as long as I can.”

“Implying that you’re aware that you won’t be able to ignore it forever.”

My kingdom was a small one. I had my family, my mate, my pack, my city. I didn’t want anything else. I didn’t want an empire.
But I would fight to protect what I had. I’d fought before, and I’d be an idiot to ignore the forces out there building empires,
who would take my world away from me if I let them. Grant was right.

“So this is just another battle in your war against the forces of chaos,” I said.

“‘Just’ another battle. You make it sound mundane.”

“And you suspect Anastasia of being part of it?” I said.

He just smiled.

And while we were all discussing various conspiracy theories and secret suspicions, Provost and his crew were recording everything
on video. Maybe one of the producers wanted information. What better way to gather intelligence than to bring a bunch of people
on the inside together, then record their conversations? What happened when the secret shadow world of vampires and the forces
of darkness got discussed on national TV? Wait a minute, who was I kidding? To the average TV-watching audience, these conversations
would seem boring. They’d never end up in the final cut.

The gathering by the dock had turned quiet, drawing our attention.

“Lee?” Ariel called. She treaded water, turning slowly and looking out over the surface. “Where’d he go?”

“How long has he been under?” Jeffrey said.

“I don’t know,” Ariel said. “A while, I think.”

“Lee knows how to take care of himself,” Tina said. “He’s a were-seal, for crying out loud.”

“But where is he?” Ariel said.

Except for the ripples Ariel was making, the surface of the lake was still, dark, not a bubble in sight. I stood and wandered
to the edge of the water. Grant came with me. A moment later, Jerome was standing with us, all of us looking out, and the
nervous rock in my gut was growing heavier.

“Should we call someone?” Jeffrey said.

A body erupted from the water and lunged onto the edge of the dock. Torpedo-shaped, it was big, rubbery, with slick gray skin
mottled brown, dripping wet. It had a face like a mashed-up dog’s, with huge, shining dark eyes. Opening its mouth wide, it
showed off way too many sharp teeth and brayed, a throaty, belchy bark.

Everyone screamed. Except maybe Grant, who raised a curious brow and took a step back. Even Jerome shouted and stumbled away
from the water. Tina and Jeffrey scrambled away from the barking seal. Ariel didn’t even bother climbing onto the dock. She
swam for the shore, splashing in a panic.

The seal—Lee, I assumed—gave another growl. I swore it sounded like laughter. Then he rolled back into the water. Breaking
the surface, he splashed his flippers, then swam, fast and hard, away from shore. He broke the surface now and then, his skin
gleaming in the sun.

When I’d calmed down, I had to admit I was impressed that Lee had enough control to play a practical joke while in his lycanthropic
form. I wouldn’t have.

“Ballsy,” Jerome said, chuckling nervously. He must have agreed with me.

“You jerk!” Ariel screamed after the now-distant seal. She stomped her feet, splashing in the water. Fuming, she turned to
the rest of us. “That was awful! Ooh, I’m going to get him back. I’m so going to get him back for that!”

Tina started laughing. A tad hysterical, but still. All of our hearts were racing. If we didn’t laugh, we’d have heart attacks.
But I agreed with Ariel—we’d certainly have to find a way to get back at him, wouldn’t we?

We were missing someone. I looked around, didn’t see him.

“Where’s Conrad?” I said. “Where’d he go? He had to have seen this.”

“He went back to the house for a minute. Said he had to use the bathroom,” Jerome said.

“Are you
kidding
me?” I screeched. Honest-to-God lycanthropic shape-shifting right in front of him—sort of—and he was off using the bathroom?
I could have cried.

“Murphy’s Law,” Grant said. “The most powerful force in the universe.”

“Goddammit,” I muttered.

Just to make the scene even more cinematic, Conrad came wandering down the path from the lodge then. He stopped when he found
us all staring at him with posttraumatized, half-amused, half-murderous looks on our faces.

“What are you all looking at?”

“Were-seal,” I said, pointing over my shoulder to the lake. “Lee gave us a show, but he’s gone now. Probably off hunting trout
or whatever the hell swims in lakes in Montana.”

Conrad looked uncertain a moment, then chuckled. “Nice try. But Lee’s just hiding in the woods. Right?”

I turned to Skip and the camera. “You can show him the playback, right?”

“Um, we’re not really allowed to do that,” he said.

I cursed Lee for his bad timing. We just needed Conrad to see the seal—so totally not native to freshwater lakes in landlocked
Montana—to chip away at his smug skepticism. Was that too much to ask?

So that was the end of the picnic.

*   *   *

E
very reality show had to have a bit where they got you alone and filmed you talking trash about everyone else on the show.
It was too much to hope that we’d get through
Supernatural Insider
without it. So there I was, sitting in front of a camera, held by Gordon this time, with the great outdoors as a backdrop.
Provost watched from behind the camera, egging me on. I fiddled with the personal mike clipped to my collar.

“Do I have to?” I said for the third time.

“It’s in the contract,” Provost said, also for the third time.

I sighed and pointed at the camera. “Is that thing on?”

“It’s been rolling for a minute now.”

There was no getting out of this. I wasn’t supposed to want to avoid this—face it, I was one of the biggest attention whores
on the show. This bit was designed to give the stage to the attention whores, to give them ample opportunity to make idiots
of themselves. And that was the problem, wasn’t it? No matter what I said, Provost and his crew would edit it to make me look
like an idiot.

Being an attention whore was only fun when I was in charge.

“What exactly are you looking for with this?” I said. “If you give me some idea what you want me to say, I can just say it
and save you some time trying to edit it all together.” I smiled with teeth.

He grimaced right back. “What do you think about some of your housemates? Anastasia, let’s say. Or Jerome.”

Predictable.

“Here’s the thing,” I said, leaning forward, making like I was going to dispense some gem of juicy gossip. “You want me to
sit here and be catty about everyone else. See if I have any juicy bits of gossip to share. But I’m not going to do that,
because the only chance I have of looking good when this thing airs is to be as nice as I possibly can. So you know what?
I love everybody. I love them all. We all get along great. This is like summer camp.”

Provost gave me a level glare. I didn’t expect him to like what I said; but he couldn’t argue, because at least I’d said
something.
He finally said, “Is that how you
really
feel?”

I thought a minute, then said, “I think Conrad is stubborn.”

Gordon giggled but quickly shut up when Provost glared. But I’d decided that Provost didn’t have much of a sense of humor.

“Okay,” the producer said. “If we can’t go for dirt, how about blatant sentimentality? You miss your family? Anything you’d
like to tell them? Your family’ll love it when they watch the show and know you were thinking of them.”

I wasn’t sure I wanted to get that sappy any more than I wanted to be a gossipy jerk. My family knew I loved them—I didn’t
have to say it on national TV. In the end, though, I did miss my family. I missed Ben especially. Things kept happening that
I wanted to tell him about, ask him about. On this subject, at least, I couldn’t find sarcasm to throw at Provost. Maybe the
guy deserved a straight line for once.

Again, I looked at the camera. “Being away from my family is the hardest thing about being here.” I pursed my lips and didn’t
have to pretend to look sad.

I hoped that would play well enough on TV for Provost. He seemed happy enough and let me loose from the camera’s eye.

chapter
9

T
oward dinnertime, a sleepy-looking, naked Lee, swimsuit in hand, came sauntering into the house. He waved a hello, then made
his way upstairs.

The cameras tracked him, and the editors would probably have a great time fuzzing out the interesting bits.

Conrad said, “If I knew this was going to be
that
kind of show, I might have thought twice about participating.”

“The whole thing seems one-sided to me,” Jerome said. “When’s your turn, Kitty?”

“I keep offering, and you all keep saying no,” I said. “You can’t change your mind now. With you guys letting it all hang
out, I can be a little discreet.”

In what had become routine, right around the time we finished eating dinner at the long dining room table, the basement door
opened and the trio of the night emerged.

“Have we missed anything interesting?” Anastasia said, striding up to take one of the extra chairs. Gemma settled in beside
her. Dorian remained standing, close to the wall, looking over them in a bodyguard stance that probably wasn’t just for show.

“You missed a great sunny day by the lake,” Jeffrey said.

“You can’t miss what you don’t want,” Anastasia said.

“Lee shape-shifted and scared the bejeezus out of everyone,” Tina said.

“I am sorry I missed that.”

“It seemed like the thing to do,” Lee said. He’d rejoined the group after putting on clothes and seemed to be beaming, like
he was proud of the escapade.

“And is our resident skeptic convinced yet?” Anastasia said.

“He walked away for five minutes and missed it.”

She chuckled. “How perfect. We’ll be able to draw this out for days.”

From the kitchen, where he was opening another bottle of wine and pouring drinks, Conrad said, “I haven’t seen anything yet
that can’t be explained by perfectly normal means.”

“Hey Conrad,” I called. “You know the principle that in a given situation, the simplest explanation is usually the correct
one?”

“Occam’s razor. Yes.”

“What’s simpler: that we imported a live seal, brought it a thousand miles inland, and set it loose in an environment that
might kill it, for the purpose of playing a joke on you; or that Lee’s a lycanthrope?”

He said, “If one of your options is impossible, it doesn’t matter how outlandish the only probable one sounds. It has to be
the correct one.”

“I won’t argue with your logic,” I said. “Only your assumptions.”

“I don’t think you imported a seal. I think you’re making it all up,” he said.

Almost angrily, Tina said, “Is someone
paying
you to be this stubborn?”

Now, there was an idea. I hadn’t considered that Conrad might also be part of some conspiracy. Hell, maybe we had more than
one conspiracy afoot. Wouldn’t that be exciting?

But Conrad denied it. “I’m getting paid the same stipend the rest of you are. At least, I assume I am. I’m just a lowly author
and not a TV celebrity, so I may be getting peanuts compared to you.”

The door to the study/production room opened, and I jumped. Just a little. Not freaked-out jumped. Just startled. Ghost fur
prickled along my back. Looking around, I saw at least a couple of the others had also flinched, startled: Tina, Gemma. All
of us stared at Joey Provost, who came into the living room wearing his showbiz smile. He was carrying a shoe box–sized wooden
case.

“How’s everyone doing?” he said. I clamped shut my jaw so I wouldn’t be able to say,
Fine, until you got here.

“We’re all just fine, I think,” Anastasia said, eyes half-lidded, purring in perfect vampire allure. It must have been one
of the powers they got, along with immortality.

“That’s great. You all up for some more fun and games?”

“Another activity rigged for maximum entertainment value,” I said. “Excellent.”

I couldn’t pull off allure like Anastasia could. All I had was snark. Glaring at me, Provost set the box on the coffee table.
We gathered around.

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