Another One Bites the Dust
Page 14
Lung continued. “And this is my adopted daughter, Pengfei Yan.”
Yeah, right. “Pleased to make your acquaintance,” I said, working hard to keep it civil. She looked normal enough with her long black hair braided straight down her back. Some artist of a seamstress had embroidered exquisite white flowers all over her sleeveless blue silk blouse. Her black silk pants matched her flats. I even liked her dangly black pearl earrings. Nope, her physical appearance didn’t offend me one bit.
But I’d seen her kill maybe six men the night before. Probably just a drop in the bucket for somebody who associated with a monster like Lung. And none of it showed on that smooth, pale face. In those clear obsidian eyes. Plus something about her psychic odor, the scent that signaled to me, as a Sensitive, that I was dealing with a vampire, turned my stomach. Pengfei emitted a burnt-offering sort of aroma that triggered mental images of mass graves.
Bergman still sat at the back of the tent, so I signaled to him that I was ready. Vayl took a seat across the aisle from Lung, where the Xia family had perched minutes before. As the music started, I moved back onto the stage and began dancing. The painkillers Dr. Darryl had prescribed wore off about halfway through the song, and by the time I finished my hands were throbbing like all the bones had sheered off midway and now scraped against each other like cheese on a grater. I managed to keep my poise, but damn it hurt. Though I hid it well, Pengfei Yan seemed to suspect. And the sick little bitch got off on it.
“Lovely,” she said after I’d finished. She and Li Ruolan clapped enthusiastically. “Could you do another one?”
Jaz would’ve pulled the .38 and shot that smirk right off her lips. But Lucille Robinson had taken charge, smiled widely at her, and said, “Of course,” before violence could be done. I looked at Bergman expectantly. He fiddled with some knobs and dials for a second, then said, “Sorry, my equipment’s down. Looks like I need to replace some parts, but it’ll be fixed by tomorrow.”
My smile widened for him, only now it was real. The self-centered tech-head had just saved my aching ass. Will wonders never cease?
Vayl stood. “Thank you, Lucille. Would you and Cole bring in the refreshments while Cassandra prepares?” I nodded and rushed offstage as Vayl turned to Lung and said, “This is actually about the time we usually dine, so we hope you will join us.”
I pulled the curtain back to admit Cole, who stood ready with the table. I helped him carry it up the back stairs and to stage left. Now that light shone on it, I could see the ivory lace cloth covering it. Yetta had chosen both silver and glass serving dishes. She’d also provided white china rimmed with red roses for eating, along with heavy silver forks, knives, and spoons.
Vayl inclined his head toward Lung. “You are the lucky winner, sir, so we invite you to fill your plate first.”
“How kind.” Lung went up the stairs to the buffet, followed closely by his cohorts. Cole and I stood on one side of the table, forcing them to walk along the other side, so the stuffed snail would be closest to them. Unfortunately Lung’s wrapped hands wouldn’t allow him to hold a plate, though he didn’t mention it to us. He just kept them tucked inside his sleeves and let Li Ruolan fill one for him. Li took his time, arranging the food so neatly it could’ve posed for a still life. Luckily that painting would’ve been called “assassination,” because the deadly snail definitely took a starring role.
We all sat on the benches to eat, as if we were at some bizarre family reunion. If Romeo and Juliet had lived to bear offspring, I imagined this was how the Capulets and Montagues would’ve behaved at the kid’s first birthday party. Nobody even tried to converse. Our side watched theirs from the corners of our eyes, feeling slightly grossed out that Li Ruolan fed Lung every single bite he ate, and worried that Li seemed to taste everything first.
Li had the snail on his fork.
I picked up a tiny biscuit I’d doused with butter and honey and popped the whole thing in my mouth. Like that, you kiss up, I thought. Shove that mollusk in your boss’s mouth and let’s get it on!
Cassandra walked in and Li’s fork hit the plate.
Arrghh!
Lung had been eyeing the escargot eagerly. Now he looked at Cassandra. A new hunger lit his eyes, one that had nothing to do with snails. And I instantly understood why the obsession with psychics. He wanted her blood. Sometimes vamps get fixated like that. They crave a particular type. Teenaged girls. Druids. Canadians. Feeding on one specific class gives them such a spectacular rush it becomes an addiction. When that happens they tend to be real hard to stop.
Li started to get up, maybe to introduce himself, but Lung forced him back down. The fact that he’d pulled his hand from its cocoon made me realize just how little he cared about witnesses at this moment.
I began to get a little cross-eyed, watching Li retrieve the escargot fork while Lung stalked Cassandra with unblinking eyes. She went to the far side of the buffet table, so that she faced us as she spooned a few goodies onto her plate.
Li’s fork moved toward Lung’s mouth.
Lung stood up.
Pengfei put a hand to his robes and murmured something in Chinese. She looked more annoyed than nervous.
Vayl and I tensed, ready to spring. Behind us, Cole and Bergman put their plates down. Behind them, the tent flap flew open and Preston strode inside.
“Cassandra!” he called. “I hoped you’d still be here.” His expression, which had been open and friendly, began to lock down as he took in his surroundings. After a swift recon his gaze returned to her, his right hand moving slowly to his back. “Is everything okay?”
I could see the slow dawn of horror rounding out her eyes, nailing her feet to the floor. She tried to nod, but her head jerked to the side instead. Movement from our guests pulled my attention away from her.
Li had put the snail in his own mouth. I watched him swallow with a strange sense of distance, as if I were three hundred miles away, looking through the lens of a telescope. And in my mind, one word began to rotate around and around . . .
Un-frigging-believable.
Pengfei pulled harder on Lung’s robes, trying to break his concentration, make him look at her. But the dragon was intent on his prey.
He leaped onstage without warning, closing the distance between them so fast Cassandra didn’t even have time to scream. He’d just reached the table when Preston called out sternly, “Stop, or I’ll shoot!”
I spared him a quick glance. He’d pulled his Kimber .45, all right, and if we good guys didn’t stay low we might catch some of his lead.
“Preston!” Cassandra screamed.
Lung had turned on the SWAT man, his mouth just finishing its transformation into a muzzle. Knowing what came next, I ran at Preston and tackled him, driving us both to the ground just as Lung let loose with a massive jet of flame. Heat poured over the top of us, singeing but not searing.
I yanked up my skirt and grabbed my .38. I’d have to be damn close for a lethal shot, but it was better than nothing. I craned my neck, trying to see if Lung had another dose coming, but he’d turned back to Cassandra. Only she’d disappeared.
As he stood, momentarily baffled, both Vayl and Pengfei reached the stage. At the same time Bergman and Cole had each grabbed one of the fire extinguishers sitting in the back corners of the tent and headed toward the middle, where several benches were burning.
Smoke began to drift through the tent, making my eyes water. I looked for Li and saw him diving out the back way. Apparently he had no interest in fire or blood-hungry dragons.
On the stage, Vayl reached Lung just as he tipped the table over backward with a spectacular crash, revealing Cassandra crouching underneath. But she’d gone into hiding armed with a knife, which she drove toward Lung’s groin with desperate speed.
As I reached the stage stairs Vayl’s power rushed through the room, dropping the temperature by forty degrees. Frost coated every surface. Though being Sensitive gave me something of a resistance to vampiric powers, I stil
l felt like I’d been ice fishing for an hour without a coat.
The back of Lung’s robe ripped open, giving me an excellent view of those launchable spines. I feared Vayl would get a chest full, standing right behind Lung as he was, but ice had formed around the base of the spines, preventing their release.
Cassandra’s knife didn’t penetrate, but the blunt force caused Lung to roar in pain as it struck. At the same time, Vayl wrapped his arm around Lung’s neck and pulled him backward. I didn’t think he had a plan beyond getting him away from Cassandra.
A spurt of flame from Lung’s muzzle caught the top of the tent. Fire erupted on the canvas and licked its way in every direction. I heard Preston on the phone as he came closer, moving as if every one of his joints had frozen, calling for fire trucks, police, ambulance, the works. He climbed up on the stage beside me, helped me pull Cassandra to her feet and hustle her toward the back of the tent.
I stopped, trained my .38 on Pengfei. She was yelling at Lung in Chinese as she pulled two throwing stars from her pockets. I shot her as she wound up and she lurched sideways. She still managed to throw one, hitting Vayl in the thigh. It staggered him enough to weaken his hold on Lung, who tore away and grabbed Pengfei.
By now flames engulfed the entire tent roof. At any moment it would fall and then we’d be some crispy critters. Cole and Bergman backed toward the front exit yelling, “Get out! Get out!” I couldn’t see Preston and Cassandra, which probably meant they’d already left.
I ran to Vayl, who had jerked the throwing star out of his leg. Blood spurted from the wound in steady bursts, soaking his pants and leaving a solid trail as I pulled him backstage and out of the tent. Cole and Bergman waited for us there, Bergman holding the RV keys in his hand.
“Help me with him,” I told Cole as I led Vayl toward the seawall. Without a word, Cole put a shoulder under Vayl’s arm. My concern deepened when Vayl allowed him to help.
“Okay if I move the RV?” Bergman asked.
“As soon as you bring us the first-aid kit.”
That job done, Bergman drove our temporary headquarters out of the fire’s reach, as Cole and I worked to get the bleeding under control. When the first step is yanking a belt around your patient’s thigh, the project is not going well.
“In all your long life, didn’t anyone ever once tell you not to pull out something after it had been stuck into you?” I hissed as Cole tugged the belt tight and I laid on the gauze.
Vayl didn’t reply, though I could feel his leg stiffen under my hand. I thought it was a reaction to physical pain until Cole said, “Jaz, maybe you shouldn’t yell at the bleeding guy who just pulled crazy dragon dude off our psychic friend.”
“Oh my God.” I looked from Vayl to Cole and back again. “I’ve become my mother. Quick, look, have I developed bitchy naggy lines beside my mouth?” I turned my head from side to side so they could see better.
“I have lived long enough to be able to tell the difference between genuine concern and petty complaints,” Vayl said. He leaned his forehead against mine. “Now, calm down. This bleeding is simply a result of refusing to hunt. There is a quality in the blood of living donors that seems to go missing once it is packaged. Jasmine, I will recover, much sooner than any human could.” His eyes crinkled at the corners. “And it was worth the wound to see the worry on your face.”
When the belt finally came off and the gauze stayed white, the three of us sat side by side on the walk, our backs to the wall, watching the firemen pour the last of their water on the smoking remains of our tent. What a disaster. But it could’ve been much worse.
Cassandra came to join us. Between the smoke and the frost, her outfit had wilted into rags. I glanced down at my own costume. Yup, I resembled one of those poor souls who’ve been dug out of earthquake rubble. But while I felt like part of me still remained pinned under a refrigerator, Cassandra looked like her fairy godmother had just told her she was about to score a new ball gown and some glass slippers.
“The tent is a complete loss,” she announced cheerfully. “Nothing standing nearby was damaged though. I couldn’t believe how fast the firemen got there. Jericho said they are some of the best in the state.”
“Who is Jericho?” asked Vayl wearily.
“The SWAT man,” Cassandra said. “Jericho Preston.”
I held up my hand so Cassandra and I could exchange hi fives.
“What are we celebrating?” Cole asked.
“Cassandra’s vision went up with those flames tonight,” I told him. “Which means she and Preston may be an item after all.”
He immediately went to his knees in front of her. With both hands over his heart he said, “Please, my beauty, say it isn’t so. Have you given your heart to another?”
“You are so full of it,” she said, but she laughed as he got to his feet.
“I don’t know about you guys,” he said, “but surviving arson gives me the munchies. What do you say we hit the fridge? You look like you could use a pick-me-up, Vayl.”
Vayl nodded. “But first, a shower,” he said.
“Not if I beat you to it,” said Cole, sizing him up. “And tonight, I think I can.”
I said, “We all need to get cleaned up, and I’m betting the RV’s water heater won’t be able to handle the traffic.” I thought of the hotel key, hidden in my weapons case, and suddenly my crazy move showed a bright side. “I’m getting a hotel room. That way I can have a long, hot shower while you guys are doing your three-minute shifts.”
“That sounds wonderful,” said Cassandra. “Can I come?”
I hesitated. Now I would either have to reveal my strange actions to her or pull some elaborate scam to make her think I was booking a room I’d already rented. You know what? Screw it. All the woman had to do was touch me and she’d know the whole story. “Absolutely. Let’s go get our things.”
Cassandra helped me to my feet. “Oh.” I looked down at Vayl. “Will you be okay for an hour or so?”
He nodded, looking strangely stunned. As Cassandra and I walked away I heard Cole say, “What just happened?”
And Vayl replied, “We have been outsmarted. Just be glad they are on our side.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Cassandra insisted that I shower first since it was my idea, my room, and my weird daydream that had led to the whole setup in the first place.
“You do understand this whole issue centers around your relationship with Matt, don’t you?” she’d asked when I explained how I’d ended up with a key card.
I nodded.
“I just wish Gregory hadn’t left when he did. I’m sure he could’ve helped. Maybe we should call him.”
“I’ve thought of somebody else I can talk to,” I said and we left it at that.
I don’t much mind grime because of that squeaky-clean feeling you get from the shower afterward. I sat on the bed, flipping through the channels, feeling like I could star in an Ivory soap commercial when I heard a knock on the door.
Probably Cole with that have-mercy look on his face, here to beg some hot water time. I opened the door.
David stood in the doorway, dressed to kill in his navy blue body armor. “Jasmine, they’re coming!”
“How did they find us?” I whispered as a little guy galloped through my mind on a sweat-soaked horse screaming, “The vampires are coming! The vampires are coming!”
“Maybe Matt told them.”
I punched him in the arm. Hard. “Matt would never betray us.”
Dave’s look said he thought otherwise, but he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut.
I threw on my shoulder holster and strapped it tight while he monitored the hall.
Clear, he signaled.
I inched into the hall beside him. Light yellow walls. Burgundy carpet with a large floral print. Gold fixtures. Sweet, middle-class feel that somehow tripled the horror. All we needed was the Psycho soundtrack and we could just skip straight to the funny farm.
Dave jabbed my shoul
der. “Pull yourself together!” he hissed. Leave it to a twin to know just when you’re about to flip out.
You couldn’t see the elevator from our vantage point, but the stairs were just two doors to our left. We were only on the second floor. It wouldn’t take long for us to get to the lobby. To reach the sleek, black motorcycles waiting for us outside. That was, if we were lucky. We weren’t.
The stair doorway flew open and at least a dozen human guardians streamed through. Dave sprayed the crowd with his M4. Maybe six dropped. The rest pulled back, giving us space to turn and run.
We raced down the hallway, trading looks of alarm as the elevator rang that it had reached our floor. Out of the alcove in which it sat strolled Jesse and Matt, looking unnaturally beautiful, uncharacteristically cruel. Blood streamed down their necks, but they hardly seemed to notice as they advanced on us.
“You bitch!” David screamed at me. “You let them die!”
The words tore into me with the force of a grenade. “No!” I cried. “They could’ve lived. They could’ve been here with us!”
“Now, why would we want to do that?” asked Matt, smiling widely, his new fangs tipped with the blood of his own lips.
Rage rose in me, sudden and all-consuming. It burned in my mouth and at my fingertips. Part of me thought it amazing my hair didn’t burst into flames. “You stupid FUCK!” I screamed at him. “You turned, you stupid, cowardly FUCK!” I ran at him, a juggernaut of wrath with only one goal: mow that son of a bitch over and get the hell out of Dodge.
I hit him so hard I thought my heart would burst. He fell flat, carrying Jesse down with him. David was still screaming behind me, garbled, angry words I heard but couldn’t translate. I yelled back at him, “Come on! Come on! Come On!”
A large window marked the end of the hall. I raced toward it like a dragster, hit it feet first and flew through, covering my face so the shards only cut my legs, arms, and shoulders. A small price to pay for freedom. I hit the ground with soft knees, rolling like that poor downhiller who missed his gate in the last Olympics and damn near fell off the mountain. Quickly regaining my feet, I reached the edge of the parking lot before he caught me.