On the Prowl

resting place for sinners. Anglos had long since muddied the two, but Diné tradition held that demons came from another world. Nor was it the same realm elves lived in. Kai was sure of that.
    Almost sure. It had been years since Grandfather taught her the stories, and few of them involved the far people, the Navajo term for elves.
    She liked Wikipedia’s entry better. It mentioned the mythical guardian of the gates of hell, too, but it also spoke of spectral hounds who haunted spots in Great Britain. That didn’t seem to apply to Nathan, who was hardly spectral. But it went on to say that hellhounds were part of the Wild Hunt.
    The Hunt was connected to Faerie, not hell. She was seriously fuzzy on what the connection was, but she knew that much. And Nathan’s surname was Hunter.
    Clue, Kai.
    But she wasn’t going to know, dammit. Not until she saw him again and could ask. At the time, she’d barely been able to stammer, “What? You’re what?”
    Nathan had just looked at her with that sad smile and said they would talk later, when she’d had a chance to think things over. He had duties he needed to tend to. And he’d gotten in his car and driven off.
    What was she supposed to think over? She wasn’t even sure what a hellhound was! Some sort of supernatural dog, yes, and she had to admit that was a breath stealer, but he wasn’t a dog now.
    Or maybe he was a part-time dog. Did he Change when he wanted to, like lupi? Or according to some involuntary, arcane schedule? Full moons, eclipses, leap years, alternate Wednesdays…
    Part of the sidhe, he’d said. The wild sidhe.
    Kai was in her cubby at the clinic looking up “sidhe” on her laptop when Ginger stuck her head in the door. “Good grief, are you still working? It’s nearly five. Shake a leg or we’ll be late.”
    Late? Oh, yeah. “The rally. I’d forgotten. I’m not sure—”
    “You’re going,” her friend told her sternly. “Come on.”

C HAPTER 8
    T HE rally was being held downtown in Centennial Plaza. It was a pretty spot for much of the year, with a fountain perched in tiered stone basins and several oaks slowly growing their way toward stature. In the warmer seasons the trees stood ready to flutter their leaves and freckle the ground with shade.
    Not today, though. Today the trees were bare, the fountain dry. But everything else was full.
    “There’s a lot more here than I’d expected.” Ginger sounded torn between anxiety and delight. “I expected to see mostly students. And the coven—several of them promised to come. But this…”
    “You did a good job of getting the word out. There must be a couple hundred people here. Maybe more.” All of them talking at the same time, all of them revved—uneasy, angry, excited. To Kai, the air was a colorful din. “The TV people showed up, too.”
    “Are you doing okay?”
    “I’m fine.” Aside from the guilt. Had Kai been a true empath, such a large crowd would have been uncomfortable at best. Kai hated the deceit, hated worrying Ginger for no reason. But not enough to tell her the truth. Ginger would feel sorry for her.
    Kai could handle the sting of rejection—and had, plenty of times. She understood why people feared the loss of privacy. But pity labeled her pathetic, and she couldn’t tolerate that.
    In the eleven years since the accident, Kai had moved seven times. In each new place she’d hoped to find friends. And she had, until she tried trusting them with the truth about herself. Whenever she told someone she saw thoughts, they changed. Most withdrew, fearing judgment or invasion. Those who didn’t withdraw physically did so in other ways, watching for signs of insanity…because everyone knew telepaths went crazy sooner or later.
    Everyone but Nathan. She didn’t know how she’d found the courage to tell him, but she knew why. He didn’t lie to her, not even a rosy little social lie. How could she keep lying to him? So six months ago she’d told him. He’d nodded, asked a few questions, and said he’d never heard of a telepathic Gift like hers, but it sounded easier to live with than the usual sort. And that was it.
    “You sure you’re okay?” Ginger put a hand on Kai’s shoulder. “I need to make my way to the front. I’m supposed to speak after Charley.”
    “You didn’t tell me you were one of the speakers!” Kai patted her hand. “Go on. I’m going to hang here at the back.” She might not have the problems a real empath would, but the