No Humans Involved by Kelley Armstrong

Author:Kelley Armstrong
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Horror & Ghost Stories
Published: 2010-05-18T07:00:00+00:00

"It's recognizable, then? Always a good sign." He closed the book. "Are you done?"

"I think so. Can I see?" I hesitated with my fingers outstretched toward his book, then curled them back. "Or maybe I shouldn't ask. Your art and all. Private, I guess."

"No more private than your rituals and you share those with me." He handed me the pad. "Just a series of sketches. I'm thinking of doing a painting."

"Of me?"

His smile grew, touching his eyes. "If that's all right. I'm working on one of the twins right now. For them, when they're older. It's taking awhile. I originally meant it to be just Kate and Logan, but decided to add Clay and Elena. A bigger project, but I thought the children might prefer that when they grow up."

"More meaningful, with their parents in it."

"I thought so."

I opened the book and flipped through the sketches. There were quite a few, all raw, some no more than an outline, maybe with a feature or two. Preparation for a painting—Jeremy preferred to work from sketches and memory rather than from live models. An interpretation rather than a photograph, he said.

His interpretations were often surprising. Like the older portraits of Clay and Elena in his studio. Clay—brash, difficult, violent—depicted as a young man with an almost boyish innocence. Elena—the more sociable, more easygoing of the pair—painted with a dangerous edge, the beast within revealed.

On first glance, you'd say Jeremy got them wrong, misinterpreted. But I'd seen that feral side of Elena, protecting her loved ones, and I'd caught glimpses of Clayton's gentler side, playing with his children or talking to his wife. Not their dominant personalities, but an aspect of the whole—a side you had to dig to find.

So it was with no surprise that when I first looked at the sketches Jeremy had done of me, I thought No, that's not right. Not the way I saw myself. Not even the way I saw myself reflected in others. In those sketches, I looked… quiet. Intent, almost introspective. My gaze was focused on something to the side, my expression serious, solemn even, rapt in concentration.

Yet the more I stared at them, the more I thought Yes, I recognize that. Like seeing a photo of myself shot at an odd angle.

"Oooh, nice," said a voice at my shoulder. "I like the one in the corner there."

I wheeled to see a woman a few years younger than me, with straight black hair almost to her waist. Six feet tall with the remote, slightly exotic look of a fashion model. That illusion of aloofness vanished the moment she glanced up from the page, her eyes dancing in predatory amusement, like a cat always on the lookout for something worth pouncing on.

"Eve!" I spun to Jeremy. "It's Eve."

I knew I looked ridiculous, gesturing at empty air, but he only smiled and said, "Hello, Eve. Glad you could join us."

"Glad to be here." She looked at me. "Am I interrupting? If you guys were just getting to the naked portrait stage, I can come back.

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