I shoved my legs into a pair of olive-green khakis and told myself not to be disappointed. On top went a sleeveless white tee over which I threw a green cotton button-down and my white jacket. Black boots. Grief. Bolo. And the forearm shield. I filled my pockets with extra clips, pasted a smile on my face, and went to knock on Vayl’s door.
“Come in, Jasmine.”
I’ll admit my heart did a happy flip when he said my name. But when I entered the room to find him lounging in the chair by his empty fireplace, reading the note I’d written him while he was throwback Vayl, I nearly left again. His eyes stopped me. They were like liquid copper. The walk past his bed to the chair opposite his felt like a marathon because those eyes never left me. By the time I sat down I was breathless. So I waited for him to talk.
He laid his hand, with the note in it, across my legs. “You must have been furious with me. And yet you wrote me this.”
I shook my head. “I don’t even think there’s a word for how fast Cole had to talk me down. But even in the middle of feeling like my head was going to explode I knew it wasn’t your fault. And later, when you saw my picture and you wanted me?” I looked down at the glass-topped table that sat between us. Wanted to grab one of the mints that sat in an elegant little bowl in its center, just to give my hands something to do besides clutch each other as if they’d never feel his fingers lace through mine again. I said, “It helped a lot.”
Vayl folded the note and slipped it into the pocket of his black silk shirt. He rose so fast that I had to move my head to keep him in focus. His cane slammed against the tile as he walked to the balcony door and stared through the glass. “What you must think of me.”
I watched him. Waited for him to turn around. He just glared into the night, his jaw tight with emotions he couldn’t unleash. Unless he wanted more people to die tonight.
This is a big moment, said Granny May from her sewing chair. Her needle moved so furiously it might’ve been electrified, except clearly it was being powered by her nimble old fingers. It would be excellent if you could think of something deeply profound and moving to say that will both reassure him and give him something to remember for the rest of his days. She peered up at me. Shook her head. Never mind.
I opened my mouth. What came out was this: “I’m thinking you’re a huge tease. Knowing how hard up I am and just hanging that sweet tush of yours out there for me to ogle when you really oughtta be—”
The rest of my sentence was lost in the rush of his return to me. My chair tipped backward as his body covered mine, but he caught us, and with a growl of laughter that made my toes curl, rolled us away from the hearth before it could cause any lasting damage.
Hard to return every one of his kisses. Hundreds of them, hot and so sweet that I felt tears prick my eyelids as I finally let myself admit how much I’d missed them. I’d thrown my arms around his shoulders when we’d begun to fall. Now I let my hands roam the hard planes of his back, run up his sides and down his thighs, remind me that he was real and here and—
“Mine,” I whispered.
“Yes,” he murmured, his lips brushing down my bare stomach and back up the curve of my ribs as he pushed my shirt out of his way.
“Always?” I didn’t mean to make it a question. Pulling his hips closer as I wrapped my legs around him, I felt him shudder.
His eyes were full of green fire when they met mine. “Until the end of time.”
“Then…” I lifted his shirt so I could watch my fingers slide down the length of his broad chest, covered with lovely black curls, to his flat belly with its arrow of soft hair leading my hands where they’d been aching to go for days. When he drew in a breath and then let it out slowly, hissing through his teeth like a sore athlete lowering himself into a hot bath, I nearly shouted with triumph. That I could make a man like Vayl, who had seen and felt everything, drop his head against mine and moan with desire—yes! This was how I wanted to use my time. Loving this man—no, this vampire—eternally.
I whispered, “Would it be okay if I got you a ring?” He went still under my fingers. But I could still feel his skin, hot with excitement, leaning in to my touch. I said, “I have Cirilai. And I hope you know by now what that means to me. But you don’t have anything of mine. So, you know, would you—”
“Yes.”
He covered my hands with his, lifted them both to his lips, and kissed my fingers, one by one. “How ever did I find you?”
“I was that skinny redhead killing your leftovers.”
He chuckled. “Oh. Right.” He cupped my face in his hands. I clutched his shoulders as he began to nibble my lower lip. Then every control I’d had to snap on since Vayl had forgotten my name broke. With a groan that shook me head to toe, I rolled over on top of my vampire and reminded him of exactly what we’d been missing.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
When I came back to my senses I was sprawled across the coffee table with guest mints scattered around my head like confetti. My T-shirt was bunched up around my neck, Vayl was wrapped around my torso, and I won’t even mention what tangled around my ankles.
“Uh, now that I can breathe again?” I said.
Muffled sound from somewhere near my collarbone. I interpreted it as, “Yoof?”
“I kinda need to move. I think I’m getting goosed by your cane.”
“So that is where it went.” Low chuckle. Gawd I’d missed that sound! I felt myself bodily lifted from the scene of my latest indiscretion. But, realizing how deeply my dad would disapprove, I decided the guilt could wait, like, forever. Because Vayl was back. In a bold and reckless sorta way.
I began pulling myself together. Realized I had an audience and slowed down. “You’re… watching?”
He’d dressed faster than me. A gift both of guys and vamps, I guess. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, eyeing my wounds, checking out his own. “It has been… quite a night.”
“Yuh-huh. And if we’re smart we’ll get the hell outta here before the cops catch up to us and cause a delay we can’t afford.”
He stood, nodding decisively. “Yes, we should go.” He hesitated, cocking his head like he’d just thought of something. “Of course, you could open your present first. If you like.”
Yikes! Birthday present! Gaudy diamonds! Where are you, Lucille?
Shit!
She didn’t want to come out for him. Because it wasn’t right. He’d only just gotten back from the 1700s. And after the most incredible moments of passion we’d shared yet, how could I fake anything now?
I said, “Of course. A present would be fabulous.”
Oh crap. He can tell I’m not psyched about this. It’ll be our first fight since he got back and it’s only been, what, an hour? This is going to be some kind of record!
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a black velvet box. It wasn’t big enough to hold a massive necklace. Maybe it was just one gigantic stone. Maybe it was earrings. I could probably deal with that.
I opened the box, trying my best to smile.
It was a key.
An unmarked key.
I took it out. Held it up for him to see. “What does it open?” I asked.
He grinned again. I should probably tell him to stop that. If he did it in front of kids there would be screaming.
He picked me up and carried me to the top of the stairs, where he set me down. Grasping his cane in one hand and the rail with the other, he looked at me with—holy crap, was that actual mischief in his sky-blue eyes?—and said, “I will race you to the street.”
I bolted down the steps like the riad was on fire. He tried to pass me, but I snagged his arm and yanked him backward. He laughed out loud. “Cheater!” he called as he grasped me around the middle and carried me down to the first landing.
I managed to wrap my legs around his waist and grab his shoulders, so that I did the next flight riding him piggyback. And then I pulled out my secret weapon. I blew in his ear. He stopped. Then came the tongue, right around the ri
m of his earlobe and, just lightly, into the center. He shivered.
I jumped off and sprinted to the door.
“Vixen!” he called, following so close I could feel his fingers flicking my curls.
“All’s fair in love and birthday pres—” I skidded to a stop. Clapped both hands to my mouth, which did nothing to keep the tears from leaping into my eyes. “Vayl,” I whispered. “How…”
He leaned around to look into my face. He must’ve liked what he saw, because again with those fearsome fangs. A couple of pedestrians shrieked and bolted. I hardly noticed them. I felt like I’d hurtled into a dream.
He stepped to the curb and ran his hand along the hood of the gleaming black car that had not been parked there when we’d walked into the riad half an hour before. He said, “It is a—”
I interrupted him, “1963 Ford Galaxie 500XL Convertible 406 CID 385 horsepower with a V8.”
Vayl nodded. “It also has a four-speed manual transmission.”
I blinked. I might’ve been crying by now. But I really didn’t care. “It’s just like the one Granny May used to have. She drove us to church in it. To the store. Everywhere.”
Vayl waited until I’d torn my eyes from the beauty on the street to look at him again before he said, “It is the one your grandmother used to drive.”
I lost it. Right then and there, I just, well, I kind of hate to say this, but I sat down on my ass and bawled on the sidewalk in Marrakech, Morocco. During which time I had to assure Vayl this was a good thing. And also during which he had to explain to me how Gramps Lew had sold the car to a neighbor of theirs, a farmer who’d always meant to restore it but never had. So it had stayed in the old guy’s barn until his son had opened his front door to find Vayl there with a shitload of cash in his hand and a trailer hooked to his rental truck.
When I finally pulled myself together I said, “But, Vayl, she’s mint. I mean, I don’t see any rust. The interior is the same shiny red I remember. If I pop the hood—”
“It will sparkle,” he assured me.
I shook my head. “That kind of work takes time. A lot more than we’ve been a couple.”
He had sat down on the sidewalk beside me, laying his arms across his upraised knees in that way he has of making himself comfortable in any position. Now he looked at the classic parked on the street and admitted, “I bought it soon after we met. I… had hoped someday I might have this chance.”
I pointed to the Galaxie. “You can’t possibly have felt like that for me then!”
He turned to gaze into my eyes, laying his chin on my shoulder as he said softly, “I have loved you with everything in me from the moment I saw you.”
I wrapped my arm around his leg, carefully avoiding his wound. “Damn,” I whispered.
He leaned forward, his lips like the breath of life itself, bringing my soul back into the dance every time they touched mine. He took his time, his tongue brushing against mine so gently it was like a second declaration. When he pulled back he said, “Every moment with you has been a revelation. I would not trade a second. Come, my pretera.” His eyes glittered as my inner girls screamed ecstatically while they threw paper airplanes at each other to celebrate hearing him call me Yaz-mee-na and his little wildcat both in the same day.
I managed a breathless, “Yeah?”
He said, “Let us gather the crew. It is time to ride.”
Morocco’s medina is full of streets so narrow sometimes you’re lucky to get a couple of donkey carts past each other. But the new city is full of wide, well-lit boulevards just made for a bunch of cruising assassins. I drove my Granny’s car with the top down and the radio blasting, my hair flying out behind me like a kid’s kite.
It was fucking awesome.
Vayl sat beside me, never taking his eyes off my face, his lips stuck in that semi-smile that let me know he was perfectly satisfied with the world and everything in it. If we had been living a movie, that’s where it would’ve ended. Happily ever after, baby. Which, of course, is why it lasted less than fifteen minutes.
We pulled up just down the street from the Musee de Marrakech and just sat, listening to the engine purr.
“I can’t believe you did this for me,” I said, rubbing the steering wheel like it was the soft fur of my malamute.
Sometime during our drive he’d dropped his arm behind my back. Now he touched my neck with his fingertips, sending shivers up and down my spine as he slid closer to me. Though he couldn’t hypnotize me, I felt captivated by the facets in his glittering emerald eyes as they caught mine and said exactly what my heart needed to hear.
“We will take it with us everywhere,” he said. “No more shabby rentals.” He smirked. “No more mopeds.”
“I liked those mopeds,” Cole objected from the backseat. He sat next to Raoul, who rubbed elbows with Sterling, who’d slid down so he could let his head fall back and stare up into the star-studded sky.
Sterling rolled his head to gaze on Cole. “Somehow I saw you more as a Camaro kind of guy. But whatever pops your clutch. I guess you liked your runaway demon too?”
Raoul huffed, like he found that impossible to believe.
Cole drummed his fingers on the armrest. At least he remembered not to drop Kyphas’s name—and therefore give her a clue as to our whereabouts—when he said, “She had her good points. Somewhere deep… deep at her core. Anyway, I’m still willing to give her the benefit of the doubt.”
“Oh. So that’s why she fell for Vayl’s trap like a catfish jonesing for chicken liver?” I asked.
He shrugged. “It was pretty juicily baited.” When we all made sounds of doubt he added, “Come on. What demon isn’t going to try for the Enkyklios map on her own when you dangle the exact location in front of her like that?”
“We didn’t, the Luureken did,” I reminded him. “She was just conceited enough to think we were dumb enough to believe nobody but us good guys would act on it.”
“She did steal the cat,” Raoul reminded him, like that should be his last straw.
“You’re really fixated on the robokitty, you know that?” Cole told him.
I wouldn’t have thought it possible, but Raoul straightened even more as he said, “Astral sang to me after Nia left. The perfect song, in fact. I don’t think she’s fully mechanical. She seems to have… insight.”
Since I knew the guys wanted to know but would never ask, I did. “What tune did she pick out for you?”
“She sang ‘Always Look on the Bright Side of Life,’ from the musical Spamalot,” Raoul said.
Cole immediately launched into song, with the rest of us providing the whistling where appropriate. “Always look on the bright side of life. Always look on the right side of life.”
“It’s not funny,” said Raoul.
“I believe it is supposed to be,” Vayl informed him helpfully.
He sat back and crossed his arms.
Cole scooted forward. “Our demon’s taking her sweet time in there. Do you think she’s onto us? Maybe she snuck out the back.”
“Nope.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Astral’s sending me pictures.” I turned in my seat, fluttering the fake lashes that received Astral’s signals. On top of Cole’s slumped form I could see the superimposed image of Kyphas as viewed from the ground up, sneaking through the museum. Just watching her face hover over Cole’s made me want to swear. Instead I said, “I can’t believe you even flirted with her, much less… She’s such a skank!”
He never took his eyes off the museum’s entrance. “Absolutely. A skank with evil intentions and a shiny gold nugget at the center of her pitch-black heart.”
I made gagging sounds while Raoul said, “Share with the other children, Jaz. What’s Astral showing you?”
I rolled my eyes at Sterling, who said, “You might as well give us some narration. Otherwise we’re just going to start punching each other back here. And you know what that will lead to.”
Gawd. With a
warlock, an Eldhayr, and an assassin squished into the backseat, everything I imagined went from bad to nuclear. I started talking.
“It’s just what you’d expect. Boring little trek through the touristy part of the museum. Human-formed Weres in front, demon following. They’re passing priceless paintings and cases full of old crap.” I glanced at Vayl. “No offense. I know that stuff must be more meaningful to you than it is to me—”
He shrugged. “Considering where I have been living the past few days, I find I much prefer the present.”
“How do you figure she got the Weres to cooperate?” Cole wondered.
Raoul raised an eyebrow. “She’s a demon. Just because you people are immune to her powers doesn’t mean they’re not vast.”
Vayl shifted in his seat. Like he was uncomfortable. Which he never is.
I said, “What is it?”
“If Roldan has truly given himself to a Gorgon, and I believe that he has, Kyphas could easily have wormed her way into the deal using that connection. Spawn stick together. That is their first rule.”
“But she has a deal with us. What about that?”
“She is a demon. They are masters at playing both sides to their advantage.”
“Well, she’s got these guys believing they’re on her team.” I looked back at the scene Astral was beaming to me. “Now they’re in a storeroom on the first floor. It’s the size of a comfy office. There’s a vertical shelf, no, make that three shelves running down its center. I thought it was one because they were all pushed together, but it looks like they run on ceiling and floor tracks like the ones you find in college libraries. The lead Were, who looks a lot like Chris Rock, has separated the shelves. One other Were, who looks slick enough to sell cars for a living, and two stringy-haired Luureken are just standing by the edge of the shelves, waiting.”
“Does it seem like they have any idea where to look for the map?” asked Cole.
“Yup. The Chris Rock look-alike has gone straight to the middle shelf. He’s being careful not to disturb anything else while he shuffles through some leather scrolls. He’s not unwrapping them. Just shining a light on one corner.” I took a breath to acknowledge the doubling of my heartbeat and the sudden stinging behind one eye. “He’s found it.”
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