The Deadliest Bite

by Jennifer Rardin

  The door to the inn flew open. “Don’t shoot! Please don’t shoot!” A skinny old Indian man with a thin mustache, wearing a brown vest and blue pants, walked into the parking lot with his hands held high above his head. “She said you would come here. She is the one playing with the lights, not us. Please, those bulbs are expensive!”

  I lowered my gun as Vayl demanded, “Who said we would come?”

  “The woman in black. She has taken over our entire establishment. She has been just waiting, waiting for you to arrive. Please, please talk to her now so she will leave us alone.” He clasped his hands together, really begging, truly scared of whoever was waiting for us inside.

  As Cole left cover and Raoul opened the bus door for Bergman and Aaron, the owner of The Stopover, whose name badge said we could call him Sanji, motioned for us to join him. Dave, still holding Cassandra safe behind him, remained in the shadows. With my arms still at my sides, I lifted my palm to him, silently encouraging him to keep it that way. We held our weapons out where Sanji could see them as we approached him and the front door. “Please,” he said again. “She said she would go as soon as she spoke to you.”

  “Did she give you her name?” Vayl asked.

  “Bemont,” he said. “When she checked in she said her name was Mrs. Bemont.”

  Even Aaron knew better than to gape at Cole. But we all felt the shock that shot through him at hearing that whoever had anticipated a move we’d only just decided to make was posing as his wife. I reminded myself, once again, to create a whole new vocabulary for our line of work, because “creepy” just didn’t cover it.

  When we didn’t show any signs of movement, Sanji asked, “Are you ready now? Mrs. Bemont is not a patient woman. You should hear the yelling if we are late with her breakfast.”

  Vayl held up his hand. “In a moment. Cole.” Our sniper stepped forward. In his hand he held a duffel full of clean clothes and a second padded bag containing his rifle, a Heckler & Koch PSG1 that was nearly new but had already seen action (translation: Saved our asses) in Marrakech. Vayl said, “Find the back way in. Clear it if necessary. Then cover Mrs. Bemont’s room. But before you go, give Raoul your pistol.”

  Cole reached into his shoulder holster and pulled out his Beretta. Handing it to my Spirit Guide he said, “I know it’s been a while. Do you need a refresher course so I don’t have to worry about you shooting off your big toe?”

  Raoul took the gun with a well-practiced hand, making sure to keep the business end pointed away from the rest of us. “I haven’t forgotten.”

  Vayl said, “I suppose I shall need something as well. Sanji, give me your gun.”

  “I-I have nothing of the sort!” blustered the manager. “I’m a peaceful man—”

  “I beg to differ,” Vayl replied, his voice so mild Sanji had no idea how close he was to getting his head slammed against the wall. “You run a rotten hotel in a neighborhood infested with criminals. Where do you keep it, behind the counter? If not, I will be happy to tear this place apart until I locate it.”

  “No! No, that won’t be necessary.” Sanji rushed into his office and came out carrying a sawed-off shotgun.

  I said, “Now I’m having weapon envy.”

  My sverhamin smirked at me. “You are just saying that because you know how much I would rather use my cane.” He turned to Sanji. “Where is Mrs. Bemont staying?”

  “She’s in the honeymoon suite.”

  We stared up at the sagging building. “You have a honeymoon suite?” It was the first time Aaron had spoken since he left the bus. And I was sure these words had been ripped out of him by pure disbelief.

  Sanji shrugged. “It’s the biggest room in the establishment, really two rooms put together. Up there, on the corner of the second floor.” He pointed to the windows, the curtains of which were closed tight. Vayl nodded to Cole, who left so swiftly that Sanji didn’t even notice. He just kept blabbing in the way of lonely innkeepers, “I think they forgot to put the wall up in between them when they raised the building, so now it’s the honeymoon suite. It has a wonderful view of the river.”

  “How does Mrs. Bemont like the view?” I asked.

  “I don’t think she ever looks. She just complains about no running water and makes us haul buckets up to fill the tub we had to buy for her. She bathes quite often. ‘Cleanliness is next to godliness,’ she says, and then she cackles in that awful way she has, as if she’s got razor blades stuck in her throat.”

  We all nodded sympathetically until Vayl was finally satisfied that we were set to meet Cole’s fake wife. He’d made sure that I still carried Grief and that I was armed both with the holy water I carried on my right wrist and the bolo sheathed in my pocket. He’d also checked to see that Raoul still carried his holy blade, it was just hidden beneath the back of his jacket at the moment. Bergman, as usual, hadn’t thought to arm himself, and Aaron was without weaponry as well.

  Vayl handed Bergman his cane, saying, “I noticed you turned your ankle slightly while you were debarking the bus earlier this evening. Here, please feel free to use this to aid you for the rest of the evening.”

  Bergman received the cane as if he were being given the care of a kingdom’s crown. His reverence nearly brought me out of the intense concentration I’d thrown myself into the moment the lights came on. Aaron’s whine, “What about me?” did the rest of the job.

  “You’d manage to kill one of us with a butter knife,” I snapped. “Stay out of the way until further notice.”

  He looked to Vayl for support, which amused me. Like some kid running to Daddy for permission after Mommy’s barred him from the cookie jar. The twinkle in Vayl’s eyes let me know his mind had fallen into the same track. He said, “Jasmine is right. If you would like to be trained so you know what to do in these situations in the future, I will be happy to accommodate you. But for now your life, and ours, depend on your staying safely out of the way.”

  I smiled inwardly as Aaron bobbed his head. Finally a little respect from the would-be killer. And all it had taken was major risk to his own hide. As soon as he fell to the back of the line I allowed myself to refocus. This deal, whatever it was, smacked of foul spells and demoncraft. I’d need to be on my toes if I wanted to bring everybody back from this one. And oh God, did I ever want everybody to survive. One more second to recognize the crack in my shell, to realize nearly everyone I loved was in this place at this time. And then I shoved that sucker together, sealed it with superglue, and got on with my job.

  Which, at the moment, was to follow Vayl and Sanji into a building I’d never scouted before, knowing full well it could be boobytrapped, packed with enemy forces, or just plain bad for the sinuses. I whispered down to Astral, “You go ahead of us. Let me know if you see hostiles.”

  She trotted ahead, slipping through the doorway as soon as Sanji opened it, and disappearing into the recesses of the building long before we reached its lobby.

  I’d taken Jack’s lead from Vayl and wrapped it around my left wrist. But since I needed both hands to shoot straight, now I knotted it through my belt loop. “Be calm, boy,” I told my malamute, whose ears were perky enough to say he was enjoying this outing, but whose sleepy eyes thought I was way overreacting to a few surprise neons and what quite possibly was just a bitchy ex-girlfriend.

  “Oh, I would be so pissed off if that was the case,” I whispered down to my dog. “Do you think he would actually date somebody that crazy? Don’t answer that. I already know.”

  Followed closely by Bergman, Raoul, and Aaron, Vayl and I trailed Sanji into the lobby, which held several shelves full of snack foods as well as necessities like toothpaste and small bottles of Tylenol. Across from these shelves stood the counter where, presumably, you could either pay for your gas, buy munchables, or rent a room. We walked past this area into a short hallway that turned sharply right, giving us the choice of taking the elevator or the stairs to the second floor. I told myself that I chose stairs because Jack needed the exercise.
No, it wasn’t at all because I’d rather eat raw slugs than pile into an elevator with more than, say, one short, skinny, ideally under-the-age-of-three person. That is, after all, the only time there’s enough room in an elevator. Strike that. Because, truthfully, there’s never enough room in an elevator. If there were, they’d call it a mobile home.

  Jack and I were halfway to the second floor, which Astral had already shown me consisted of a typical hallway lined with faded green carpeting and diarrhea-brown doors, when I realized everyone had followed my lead. When Vayl stood beside me once more at the top he said, “I presume you feel better.”

  I nodded. So did Jack, because he’s just that supportive. “Aerobically speaking, we are now completely warmed up and ready to roll.”

  His dimple made a brief appearance. “Then I take it you are looking forward to our next confrontation?”

  I took Grief’s safety off and made it ready to fire. “You could say that.”

  “Would you do me a favor, then?”

  His suddenly serious look caught me off guard. “Of course.”

  He stepped into me until our thighs aligned. When his arm went around my waist and lifted, our hips locked like they’d been made in the same factory. “Make sure Raoul is not merely here to take you away from me forever.”

  He let the words loose carelessly, but I heard the desperation behind them. Don’t die tonight, Jasmine, you’re all I’ve got. That’s what his purple eyes told me. The message had been significant in earlier times, when that had been true. But now that he’d found Aaron, now that he was closing in on Hanzi, they stirred my heart like never before.

  “I’ll be careful,” I promised him.

  He nodded. “Good.”

  A kiss, the brush of lips that sent tingles racing straight to my toes, sealed the deal. And then we were leading Raoul, Bergman, and Aaron down the hallway toward an ugly brown door onto which a scratched brown plaque had been glued. I didn’t know Slovenian, but there was no mistaking the message. This was the honeymoon suite. Astral sat at the base of the door, as if she’d known right where I needed her to go. Fuh-reaky.

  “Cole, are you in place?” asked Vayl.

  “I’m in the attic above the suite’s bathroom. Luckily somebody here’s a big pervert, because there’s a camera system all set up, with predrilled holes for the naughty boy to peep into the shower anytime he can get away from the front desk. Jaz, when you get a chance, you may want to kick old Sanji there right in the gonadiphones.”

  “Will do,” I said.

  Raoul tapped me on the shoulder. “It might not be him, you know.”

  “I’m willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. But you’d better not be holding me back if we find him drooling over sex tapes after this is all said and done.”

  “That’s a deal.”

  We stopped outside the door. I handed Aaron Jack’s lead and scooped Astral into his free arm. He nodded over what he understood was an enormous responsibility, especially after I pointed to him, then to the animals, and made my if-anything-happens-tothem-I’ll-kill-you face.

  Bergman whispered, “Should we knock?”

  I glanced at him. He was pale, but not nearly as shaky as the old Miles I’d known, who would’ve found five perfectly logical reasons to wait for us in the bus. I said, “She knew we were coming before we did. I imagine she’s got cookies and milk waiting on the table for us, don’t you?”

  He shrugged, then nodded, then shrugged again. “I’m new at this,” he finally said, in an effort to explain his indecision.

  Vayl said, “You will be fine, Bergman. All you have to do is open the door and get out of the way. I expect it to be unlocked. If it is not, just move out of my line of fire. Can you do that?”

  Bergman swallowed so hard that for a second it looked like he had a chicken bone stuck in his throat. Then he held up the cane and shook it a couple of times to express his certainty.

  “Excellent.” Vayl looked to one side, like he could see Dave and Cassandra through the walls of the inn. To them as much as to our inside backup he said, “We are going in. Be on your toes, please. Our lives may be in your hands.”

  “Yes sir,” Cole replied.

  Dave maintained Party Line silence. The fact that he’d chosen to go into pure stealth mode, combined with Vayl’s refusal to mention him by name, gave me an odd sense of comfort. No telling how long ago “Mrs. Bemont” had predicted this meeting. But Dave and Cassandra had been last-minute additions to our crew. So if luck was on our side, and none of us blew their cover, my brother and his lovely, magical wife could turn out to be our secret weapons.

  We lined up on the latch side of the door, just like we were in kindergarten and it was time for recess. Only this time we were required to keep contact, my hand on Vayl’s shoulder, Raoul’s on mine. Vayl and I knew our responsibilities once we were inside. I’d already told Raoul what part of the room to cover. Bergman would enter after we’d cleared the room, and Aaron had been instructed to stay in the hall unless he deemed it safer to slip into the room behind us.

  Which left it to Vayl to begin. On his nod, I waited for Raoul to squeeze my shoulder. When I got his I’m-ready message I squeezed Vayl’s shoulder and he motioned to Bergman to open the door and step out of the way.

  The door wasn’t heavy, like you’d expect in an American hotel. Miles could’ve swung it open with his pinky. Instead he jerked the latch down and shoved it wide, causing it to bang against the wall as we rushed into the room.

  We stayed tight so we wouldn’t stray into each other’s line of fire. Vayl moved directly to his right, covering that corner of the room. I took the center and Raoul, stepping in directly behind me, covered the left corner. I could feel Bergman’s breath, hot against my neck, as he shadowed me, Vayl’s cane tapping nervously against the dingy wooden floor. I didn’t bother tracking Aaron. Some people are just born with a well-defined sense of self-preservation. He, Jack, and Astral would be fine.

  We all spoke at the same time.

  “Clear,” Vayl said.

  “Clear,” Raoul echoed.

  “Don’t move or I’ll shoot,” I snapped.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Sunday, June 17, 4:45 a.m.

  The creature lounging in the middle of the unmade bed looked, and smelled, like it hadn’t stirred from that spot in days. Covered in black from head to toe, it seemed more like a pile of funeral laundry than a living being. Until it turned its head.

  “Holy shit!” I jerked back, immediately pulling my finger off the trigger because I was afraid I’d twitch again and shoot it accidentally.

  Sometime in the creature’s recent past it must’ve stood in the middle of a bonfire. Nothing else could’ve caused the scars I tried not to see as I winced at the massive damage that had made it cease to seem human. I assumed it had survived the burning because of the otherworldly power I felt seeping out of it like pus from an infected wound. And even then I could tell that it had only barely escaped. The skin of its face had a red, puckered texture as if it had been gone over with a cheese grater. Its nose had melted to half its normal size, and its lips had been incinerated, leaving only a line of thin white skin to mark the barrier between face and teeth. No eyebrows or lashes gave evidence of masculinity or femininity. Just misery. That was what oozed from the creature. Wave after wave of pain-laced despair.

  It had covered itself with a chador, the black tent-dress we had seen women wear so often during our trip to Iran. Over its head it had draped a black shawl nearly as long as the dress, under which it huddled so successfully that I couldn’t see a hint of any other skin. No jewelry gave us a clue as to who the creature might be, so Vayl decided to go at it with a directness that surprised me.

  “You cannot be Mrs. Bemont,” he said. “We have seen pictures of Cole’s mother, and she looks nothing like you.”

  The creature’s awful pink tongue darted out and licked a bead of sweat off what now passed for its upper lip. “Is that how you greet a
n old friend, Vayl?” It nodded toward me. “You’ve been spending too much time with Little Miss Mannerless over there.”

  I felt my brows come together. The voice, raspy as it was, still sounded eerily familiar. Where had I heard it before?

  Before I could think of a legit question that would force the creature to speak again, Raoul began to shift from one foot to another as he plucked at the buttons of his shirt like they’d been heated over a stove. When he backed off to where Aaron stood beside the door, holding the handle with the hand that also prevented Jack from leaping to my side while he clutched Astral to his chest with the other, Raoul visibly relaxed. The fact that he’d drawn his sword didn’t hurt his demeanor either.

  “What is it?” I asked him.

  He nodded toward the bed. “That is an abomination.”

  My stomach fell, hard, like it had just slipped on a trail of bacon grease. Raoul had worked around unholy types before. He’d taken me on a field trip to hell, for Pete’s sake! And he’d never reacted like this. I slipped my finger back onto the trigger.

  “Whatcha got going on under all that material, Mrs. Bemont?” I asked the creature as I stepped toward it.

  “Oh, I’ll show you soon enough,” it assured me. “But first, I made a promise to you not so long ago. Do you remember, Jasmine? Standing in the rubble you made when you blew the seal off the entrance to Satan’s canal, watching me steal the Rocenz from right under your nose? I told you then that if you got it back I would meet you at the gates of hell to help you defeat Brude.” The creature motioned with one black-draped arm to the gleaming silver tool at my belt. “You have it back. And I am sitting at one of the gates even as we speak.”

  “How can that be?” whispered Bergman. He’d stayed so close to my shoulder that if someone had turned on a bright light he’d have blotted out my shadow.

  “I don’t know,” I told him. “It’s not one of your physics problems you can work out with a little thought and a great calculator, Miles. Some things just don’t make sense.”