As a rule, animals hated demons. Their instincts told them they were in the presence of somethingother, and they feared it. Cats went feral, dogs either cowered or went into attack mode, and other animals simply fled the vicinity.
But not with Raum. Animals always loved him, and he loved them back. And he had no idea why.
He kept staring, and the dog sank onto his haunches and dropped his head. He stared a bit more, and the dog slid forward onto his front legs, lying down. Still, Raum waited. The dog rolled onto his side and whimpered softly.
Finally, Raum crouched by his head and patted his neck. “Good boy.”
The dog’s tail thumped on the ground.
Raum noticed the leash and collar around his neck just as a woman with pale skin and a messy salt-and-pepper bun burst onto the path. She made a big show of waving her hands, shouting and obviously upset.
Raum inwardly rolled his eyes, thinking,Now what?
“I’m so sorry!” She was so distraught, he almost feared for her health. Or at least the hair on her head she was nearly tearing out as she clutched her temples. “I know how out of control he is, and I would never take him to a public park! I was just loading him into the van and he took off.”
Raum said nothing, still patting the dog’s neck, wondering why the woman was apologizing to him. It wasn’t like he’d been the one getting knocked on his ass.
Speaking of…
He twisted around, looking over to where he’d left Faust beside the woman in pink. Faust still sat dutifully.
But the woman was gone.
He fought back an irrational surge of disappointment. Like she was going to want to hang around after being flattened by a dog fight? And why would he care if she stayed anyway?
“How on earth did you do that?” the new woman asked. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Raum shrugged. He didn’t know why animals responded to him, and it was the last thing he’d tell a random human. He didn’t like even thinking about the black hole in his past.
“Is that your dog over there?” the woman asked. “Just sitting pretty?”
Raum glanced at Faust and nodded.
“Incredible.” She pushed her glasses up her nose, studying Raum with a calculating gaze. “You must work with animals? Are you a dog trainer? Or do you work with wildlife rescue, maybe? Or—”
“No.”
“What’s your job, then?”
He hesitated. He considered saying,I’m a wanted fugitive, but went with, “Unemployed.” Both were true.
“I’m Caroline,” the woman said, sticking out a hand, “but everyone calls me Caro.” She looked to be in her fifties or sixties. The sharpness of her eyes gave her a unique face, though it was obvious from her stained jeans and messy hair that she didn’t give much thought to her appearance.
Raum stood, his new canine friend remaining at his feet. He shook Caro’s outstretched hand but didn’t offer his name. He doubted she cared. Ninety percent of human interactions were just people finding excuses to talk about themselves. At the end, they walked away without remembering anything the other person said because they only cared about their own issues.
But Caro surprised him by saying, “What’s your name?” And she wasstillshaking his hand.
“Raum.”
“Nice to meet you, Raum.” Caro finally dropped his hand and tilted her head, sizing him up. The same way he often did to others. It made him a little uncomfortable. “Do you want a job?”
He blinked. It wasn’t what he expected to hear.
“I work at an animal shelter,” she said, surprising him yet again. “Tiny here is one of my dogs.”
Tiny?Jesus.
“We were coming back from a vet visit, and he’d been sedated, so I thought he’d be fine on the leash. But he got the drop on me and pulled it right out of my hand before I could get him in the van. I thought for sure he was going to do something terrible. Scared ten years off my life.” She shook her head. “Imagine my surprise when I ran here and found him lying meekly on his side.”
