Jennifer Rardin - Jaz Parks Book 3 - Biting The Bullet

by Jennifer Rardin

  “A shower. That would make me feel better.” Just knowing I’d entertained a positive thought allowed me to move to the vehicles. No way would I sit my disgusting ass in Asha’s beautiful black sedan. So I got into the TV van, started it up, and drove home.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  B

  eing a girl, I enjoy the dramatic entrance. Having all eyes on me, preferably admiring and male, as I sashay to my table. Or, better yet, to the podium to accept a major award. My hair, makeup, and gown the most perfect combination any woman has ever put together in the history of the world.

  But in my line of work, if that happens, I’ve just screwed the pooch. So when I opened the kitchen door, after parking the TV van in the garage and thanking my lucky stars its high ceilings just barely accommodated the satellite dish, I experienced a flash of guilt when every eye in the room turned to me and widened in a united moment of shock. I couldn’t hang on to the feeling though. In fact, no emotion seemed to stick for longer than a few seconds before it fizzled beneath the mahghul tumor that grew inside me, spreading its tentacles into every part of my being.

  “Hard night?” asked Cole in a lame attempt at humor.

  “You could say that,” I replied, taking stock of my audience. Everybody had bought a ticket. Except Vayl. “Where’s the boss?” I asked Cole.

  He hesitated, then shrugged. “In the guys’ room,” he said, “meditating. Apparently you have to achieve nirvana before you can turn a human into a vampire, and he hasn’t quite made the leap.”

  Anger flitted through me. Cirilai would’ve warned him of my danger. Normally he’d have come dashing to the rescue. Even if he’d thought I could handle the situation, he’d have hovered nearby. Stood on the sidelines and cheered me on. Nothing on earth would’ve stopped him from backing me up. Until now.

  “Jaz.” Dave stepped forward from his spot by the stove, where he’d been talking with Cassandra. “What happened to you?” He reached out and I backed up, my heel banging into woodwork before my shoulders could hit the wall and leave a big red splotch.

  “Don’t touch me. I . . . the things that attacked me leave a residue. I don’t want you hurt.”

  And I don’t want you to know that I know. Somehow I think if you touch me the Wizard might get a whiff of my suspicions. And that’ll be the end of us all. Oh Jesus, Dave, how am I going to save you?

  “Are you infected?” demanded Amazon Grace, jumping off her stool and heading for the living room. She grabbed Jet and Cam, tried to drag them with her, but they didn’t seem interested in budging. “She’s going to give you guys some fatal disease,” Grace warned them. When they still refused to stand up, she snarled something unintelligible, let go of their shirts, and stomped out of the room.

  “It’s not something you can get through the air,” I told them. “Probably not even by touching. I think you have to actually kill somebody.”

  “Which you obviously did tonight,” said Natchez, his upper lip curling at the sight I made.

  “I’ll fill you all in, I promise. Just let me get a shower first, okay? Actually,” — I turned to Cassandra — “what I really need is some holy water.”

  Half an hour later, anointed and bathed, realizing I should feel tons better and feeling a fat lot of nothing instead, I headed back toward the kitchen. I passed the guys’ room on the way. Vayl had closed the door, but I could sense him behind it. The anger came again, and before it could leave I grabbed it. Held hard to it, though it tried to wriggle out of my hands like the slick little eel it had become.

  I threw open the door and strode into the room. “Where the hell were you?” I demanded.

  He sat on a beautifully crafted blue and white rug within a circle of stones, his hands resting in his lap. His expression, serene as a Buddhist monk’s, didn’t change when I barged in. But his eyes, already a troubled oceanic blue, darkened to purple. Any other time I might’ve taken a second to wonder why Vayl, sitting alone, preparing for an event meant to lead to the fulfillment of a centuries’ long quest, had reason to be upset about anything. But the clock was ticking on my wave of anger and I had more urgent business to deal with.

  “What do you mean?” he asked smoothly. He stood, I think because he didn’t like looking up at me as I glared down at him.

  Stay mad

  , I told myself. Not an easy order to obey considering my circumstances. And the fact that Vayl had already changed for bed. All he wore was a pair of white silk drawstring pajama bottoms that left very little to the imagination. And mine had kicked into overdrive.

  I resolutely kept my eyes on his as I said, “While you were out playing Turn the Seer, four reavers nearly killed me. Not to mention twenty or thirty mahghul. You’re supposed to be my boss. You

  said

  we were partners.”

  “What are mahghul?” Vayl asked, allowing his eyes to wander to the bed, which already held his sleeping tent. He didn’t even seem interested.

  “We saw them at the hanging!” I informed him hotly. “They attack killers and their victims. They suck away all your emotions and leave you fucking numb, Vayl. They were on me. You wanna see?” I turned around and lifted my tunic, gave him a good five seconds to survey the damage. When I felt the tips of his fingers brush my back I jerked my shirt down and spun around.

  I didn’t want to recognize the expression on his face. In my opinion, you shouldn’t have to see that kind of grief on a person more than once in your life. David had worn that look sixteen months ago when he’d walked into my kitchen just in time to watch me destroy his wife.

  “What have you done?” he’d yelled, running to the spot where she’d stood only seconds before, begging for entry. So she could tear my throat out.

  “She made me promise,” I told him through chattering teeth. I’d begun to shake head to toe. I put my newly named gun on the table before I accidentally shot myself in the foot and hugged myself. “We vowed to each other that if one of us turned, the other would smoke her.”

  He stared at me, his eyes wild and disbelieving. I could tell he wanted to lean down, touch what remained of her clothes, her being, but his broken ribs barely allowed him to stand. His doctor had only consented to release him for our team’s funerals if he’d promise to stay with a family member. Since I lived closest to the cemetery, he’d chosen me.

  “You’re lying!” he cried. “Jessie would never make that kind of deal! She’d want to live no matter what!”

  “No.” I tried to shake my head, but all it would do was jerk. I swallowed reflexively. No longer just trembling now, I was seizing. Having some sort of convulsive fit that made me feel like I was standing on top of a jackhammer. I clenched my teeth together, forced myself to talk through them. “

  You

  want her to live no matter what.”

  “You’re such a fucking hypocrite!” David yelled. “If Matt had been standing on your threshold, asking to come in, you’d have thrown open the door. Hell, you’d have slit a wrist for him!”

  I didn’t say a word. Useless to tell Dave that Matt and I had made the same deal as I’d had with Jessie. What did it matter anyway? If he wanted to be mad at me, if that helped him get through this nightmare, let him. It was the least I could do.

  I dug my fingernails into my sides, sank them deep and concentrated on the pain. It helped. Kept me from taking the next step, which was walking over to the wall and banging my head against it till I passed out.

  “I can’t stand the sight of you for another second,” he said, spitting the words like venom. “I’m getting out of here.”

  I nodded, too wounded by my own terrible losses to let this new hurt do more than take its place in line. While he went to his room to pack, I took a few minutes to pull myself together. Then I gathered up Jessie’s remains. They made a pitifully small pile for such a bright, vibrant woman. I put them in a cedar-lined box that Granny May had given me when I was a little girl and handed it to Dave on his way out.

  “I
t’s what’s left of her,” I said. “You can keep it or bury it. Whatever you want.” Tears sprang into his eyes as he took the box from me. “I loved her, Dave. I loved them all.”

  He nodded. “You may have. But you were in charge. So it’s your fault they’re dead.”

  I’d nodded.

  Yes. My fault, my fault, my fault . . .

  Later he’d sort of apologized for that last remark. But he’d never really forgiven me for Jessie. And I still didn’t blame him. I guess I’d never pursued another real conversation about her with him after that because I hadn’t wanted to see that expression on his face again. But here it was, plastered across Vayl’s visage like a movie on a screen.

  “Cirilai did not warn me,” he said.

  “Vayl, this ring is better than a hotel wake-up call. You must’ve felt

  something

  . It’s been zapping me left and right about you.”

  He dropped his head. Shook it a few times. When he looked up again, his whole face seemed to have tightened, as if a decade’s worth of worries had suddenly dropped on his head. “What do you think this means?”

  “Why are you asking me? It’s your ring. You should know why you’ve become disconnected from it.”

  From what it represents. Come on, pal, isn’t it obvious

  ?

  He threw back his shoulders. Determined, it seemed, to soldier on despite the growing evidence against the wisdom of his current course of action. “It does not matter. You are obviously fine. Our mission is still on course for completion. And Zarsa will be ready for the turning by week’s end. Everything is on track.” By the tone in his voice, I thought he was trying to convince himself more than me. Normally I would’ve grabbed him by the shirt and shaken some sense into him. But at the moment I couldn’t find one give-a-crap bone in my body.

  “Okay,” I said. I turned to go.

  “What did you say?”

  I looked over my shoulder. Why would he be mad? I’d just agreed with him. “I said fine. You’re right. Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to —”

  “I most definitely

  do

  mind!”

  I turned back to face him, always a good choice when dealing with a madman. “Vayl,” I said gently, so as not to push him clear off the deep end, “what is it that you want?”

  “I want you to yell!” He stopped, looked surprised at himself, rushed on. “You have been” — he searched for the words — “on my case, how you say, in my face, ever since I took up with Zarsa. Frankly, it has infuriated me to no end!”

  “Uh-huh. And now that I’ve stopped, you want me to start again? Aren’t you kind of undermining yourself here just a little bit?”

  “Yes! But when I fight you, I do not have to listen to my own doubts.”

  Ahhh

  . “Well, sorry, Charlie, I don’t feel like sparring anymore.” I tried out a smile, realized I couldn’t quite hack it. “Come to think of it, I don’t feel anything anymore.”

  Vayl closed the distance between us so swiftly my eyes barely followed his movements. He pulled me into his arms almost violently. It was a me-Tarzan-you-Jane kind of embrace. And Jane liked it fine.

  His eyes transformed as they stared into mine, changing from amethyst to emerald in a couple of dizzying seconds. “I find I do not like this new, mahghul-inspired you,” he said, running his fingers through my wet hair. He spent some time on the bit that had turned white, twining it gently around his thumb. And I let him.

  Hell, if he’d wanted to give me a full-body massage I’d have hopped on the nearest table and invited him to dig in. His powers percolated at their usual level, so I knew he wasn’t using any hocus-pocus on me. But I still felt hypnotized, captivated by his touch, the fascination in his eyes and the possibilities they hid.

  “I don’t like it either,” I whispered. “But I seem to be stuck with it.”

  “I disagree,” Vayl replied softly. “Creatures who feed on emotions leave a void that can be filled again — over years, with a great deal of patience. Or all at once, with a strong dose of emotion. The trick is to find the proper sensation.” As he looked into my eyes, Vayl smiled. Not his regular lip twitch, which made him look more cynical than amused. Not even his full-faced, ferocious grin. This smile was new. Because it managed a sweetness I’d never seen in him before.

  “Vayl?” I never got a chance to ask the question forming in my mind. It couldn’t have been that important anyway. Because the moment Vayl lowered his head, captured my lips with his, I forgot it.

  I’d fantasized this kiss a few hundred times since the last time Vayl’s lips had brushed mine. And I’ve got a terrific imagination. But I still hadn’t prepared myself for the rush of desire that tore through me as Vayl’s arms tightened around me, pulling me so close I thought for a second I could feel his heart beating in my own chest.

  I know, I know, it was just a kiss, right? Nobody’s ever really heard violins. The only people who’ve been blinded by passion were the ones who couldn’t see that well to start with. I’ve heard all the clichés and called them crap myself. That was before I met Matt, before I learned what a difference real love could make. But, while I knew paradise existed, I’d never really expected to visit it again.

  Especially not on the wings of a single kiss.

  Still, it was Vayl. Who’d brought me out of the darkness. Who’d stuck with me despite some spectacular screwups on my part. Who’d given me his ring, his trust, his innermost secrets. And who had nearly become a stranger in the course of a few days. That last bit had terrified me more than I realized. And it made our kiss all the more breathtaking. Because it meant he was back to stay.

  When I finally came up for air, Vayl drew his head back and said, “How do you feel?”

  Realizing for the first time that my arms were around his neck, I let them drop to his chest. His body felt so incredible, my hands just wanted to keep wandering, but I forced them to keep still. I smiled lazily. “Delicious.”

  “Excellent.” He slapped me on the butt. “Now, off with you. I still have a great deal to do if I am to turn Zarsa before week’s end.”

  I watched my hands curl into fists. And if I caught some chest hair in the process, tough. “What the hell did you just say?”

  He chuckled. “Just checking to make sure your temper is intact.”

  “Oh, believe me, it is. In fact, right at this moment, I feel perfectly capable of taking your head off!”

  “Then perhaps I will just let this whole pact with Zarsa fall by the wayside.”

  “You’re damn straight you will!” I was still pissed, but not so much that I didn’t catch his look of regret as he leaned over and began gathering rocks into a pile. I said, “I am sorry though. I know finding your boys means everything to you.”

  He stood, let the rock he held slip from one hand to the other and back again as he watched it thoughtfully. Finally he said, “You must know that I will never give up the search. I

  have

  to find my sons.” He met my gaze. “But I will never again let that desire come between us. What we have . . . ” His eyes warmed to amber. “I cannot imagine losing it. Not for anything.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  I

  never really pegged Vayl for a sweet talker. But damned if the words he said didn’t make me want to jump on him and smother him in smooches. I’d just taken a step toward him, watched his eyes crinkle with pleasure as he realized my plan, when Cole cleared his throat behind me.

  “Jaz, I thought you’d want to know,” he said roughly, “I found the home owner.”

  I turned around, my Lucille smile firmly in place. My alter ego would know how to deal with Cole without hurting him, whereas Jaz would just be blunt. Maybe even mean. “Cool! Who is he?”

  “A businessman named Delir Kazimi.”

  “Have you got a picture?”

  “I’ll print one up for you.”

  “Great. Thanks!”

  Cole
and Vayl traded stares. If they’d been any other species of male, the next step would have been a full-on charge. I started to shake my head.

  How do I screw things up so expertly in such a short amount of time?

  I asked myself.

  I really thought I’d settled things with Cole. That he understood I didn’t want a relationship. Then, the next thing you know, he’s professed his love, we’re camel tipping in Tehran, and I’ve let him blackmail me into a date. And that’s going to thrill Vayl like a stake through the heart.

  Meanwhile, the vampire in question, perhaps realizing Cole was no threat, had turned his attention to me. “Why do you want to know who owns this house?” he asked.

  I explained my theory that the Wizard had taken control of David and that, perhaps, he even owned the building in which we currently resided.

  “I suppose it is possible,” said Vayl, “but the motivation for doing such a thing makes no sense. Why would someone with his power and reach set himself up for assassination?”

  “We haven’t quite figured that out,” I admitted. “I think first we need to prove Dave is the mole. Then we have to figure out how to make sure he survives this mission.”

  “Jasmine,” Vayl said gently, “you know none of us has the power to do that.”

  “Then I’ll just have to talk to Raoul.”

  “Won’t that be dangerous?” asked Cole, still sounding somewhat belligerent. “I thought after your showdown with the Magistrate you’d decided to avoid Raoul.” He’d relaxed enough from his stare-down with Vayl to lean against the doorjamb. But he’d managed to bite the ever-present toothpick in his mouth in half, and was now searching his pockets for a replacement.

  I looked him in the eye as he patted himself down, wishing I had such an easy-to-fix habit. The need to shuffle was practically burning holes into my palms. But all I said was “That was before my brother’s life was on the line.”

  Vayl said, “I want to be convinced, and yet . . . if David did not die in training, how do you think the Wizard killed him? I would assume he was always with one of his men, even on leave. Unless he is a complete loner?”