Another One Bites The Dust

“Cool,” I whispered. She grinned with pride.

“Do you remember me telling you we needed something that belonged to Pengfei to make the spell work?” she asked.

“Yeah?”

She tapped the side of her head with a newly manicured fingernail. “I think I figured it out. While you were gone, Bergman raised Pengfei’s image on his computer.”

“Under protest,” Bergman cut in.

Cassandra ignored him. “That helped me make a detailed transfer to theEnkyklios . Then I dangled the medallion in the image replay while I spoke the words of permeation. Go on, see if it changes you,” she suggested.

“Okay, but I want to put on the dress first.” I ran into the bedroom, shimmied out of my clothes and into Pengfei’s. They were loose in the bust and tight in the butt, which made me hate her all the more. I hurried back to the living room.

Bergman and Cole had moved to the driver and passenger seats, which they’d turned to face me. Cassandra stood waiting beside Ashley.

“Okay,” I said. “Lay it on me.”

She draped the medallion over my neck.

I looked from her to Cole to Bergman. When all the color left Miles’s face I knew the spell had worked. “Take it off,” he whispered, “before it curses you!”

Ignoring him, I looked at Cassandra expectantly. “Well?”

For an answer she clapped her hands one time, hard, and smiled so big you’d have thought she’d just won the lottery.

Cole popped a bubble. “Hey, Cassandra,” he said. “Can you make me one where I look like Keith Urban?” He glanced at Bergman. “Isn’t he still married to Nicole Kidman? God, what a babe.”

But Bergman seemed to have developed blinders. Cole could’ve been broadcasting from the Space Station for all the attention Miles paid him. His hands jerked, and I realized he’d dug his fingernails into his chair’s armrests up to the first knuckle. He leaned forward, and for a second I thought he was going to lunge out of his seat, rip the medallion off my neck, throw it down, and stomp on it like some enraged second grader. Instead he fell back in the seat, closed his eyes, and took off his glasses. As if that still wasn’t enough to keep the scene before him from playing out behind his eyelids, he turned his seat around.

Okay, be that way,I thought, ignoring the fact that my inner voice sounded awfully middle school. Why did I keep letting Bergman bring out the gnarly teen in me?

“Cassandra, you did great!” I said, twirling around so she could get one last look before I dove back into my comfy clothes.

“She’ll probably turn into a pumpkin at midnight,” Bergman muttered.

“All right, that is it!” I strode to Bergman’s chair and spun it around. His eyes opened, startled and a little scared.Good . “I don’t care if your brain’s the size of a watermelon and your gadgets make my mouth water. I’m tired of your snippy little comments about Cassandra and everything related to her. She is a member of this crew and deserving of as much respect as you!”

His eyes narrowed and I could see him start to make mental excuses.My inventions are much more important and effective than her stupid little toys. I sell my goods to government agencies. She owns an organic grocery store whose top floor she’s turned into a haven for loonies and fringe dwellers. I make people better at their jobs. She just scares them. Who’s the true pro here, really?

I zoomed in on him, practically pressing my nose to his. “Your prejudice against the supernatural is affecting my mission. I can’t have that. You want to be a bigot? Go do it on your own time.”

Silence. I backed up, trying to gauge the effect of my words. I’d pissed him off, naturally. But had I blasted my way through that bank vault of a science guy door? I didn’t think so. For the sake of our relationship, I tried one last time. “I’m telling you, Bergman, if I don’t see a shitload of tolerance pouring out of you, and I mean soon, this is it for us. We’ll never work together again.”

Okay, smooth exit.I spun and walked down the hallway to the bedroom. No trippies. Not once. Yahoo!

Once I’d changed, I called Albert. Generally talking to him upset me. But since I was already there, no big deal. I figured I’d given him plenty of time to dig up some extra added info on the reavers. And even if he didn’t have anything more than we’d already unearthed, maybe he could help me figure out why Pengfei and Chien-Lung, two bad guys who’d so far accomplished everything they’d set out to do, were not planning to fly the coop as soon as they woke this evening. I’d decided it must have something to do with Samos. But what?

Half an hour later I had the glimmering of an idea. “Reavers need a sponsor,” Albert had told me after I’d been forced to leave a message on his machine. He’d said he was screening his calls because he’d had so many hang-ups. Weird, but far from my problem.

“You mean, like in AA?” I’d asked.

“It’s a little more diabolical than that,” he said. “Reavers burn through bodies pretty quick. So the sponsor has to agree to provide the reaver with at least one new body for every week he spends on earth.”

During which time, as we already knew, the reaver could be gathering souls. As long as he followed the rules.

“I don’t completely understand,” I said. “I know, for instance, that one reaver went into a bathroom and two came out. How does that work?”

“Apparently more than one can travel in a single body for brief periods of time until all of them are dispersed.”

Huh. That gives a whole new perspective to hearing voices in your head.

I didn’t ask Albert where he got his information. It was none of my business, for one thing. Plus, I imagined the story would be just as heartrending as the one we’d seen on theEnkyklios and frankly, at this point, I wasn’t sure my ticker could take it. But I did want to know what any demonic creature could bring to the table that would be worth so much risk.

“This reaver you mentioned,” Albert said. “Desmond Yale?”

“Yeah?”

“My sources believe his sponsor is Edward Samos.”

Wow. So the Raptor had obtained the services of a majorly badass reaver. “Go on.”

“Whatever Samos is planning, it’s probably going to be big. As in, international-incident sized.”

“How do you figure that?”

“Because reavers are very specialized creatures. They only deal in one arena.”

“What’s that?”

“Triggering world wars.”

CHAPTERTHIRTY-TWO

The bedroom felt too much like a tomb. It made me antsy. I sat down on the floor, took out my cards, and started to shuffle.

Albert and I had never parted on such a grim note and yet on such good terms. “So Samos is trying to start a Chinese/American war,” I told myself. “Are you really that surprised? You saw Lung consorting with Chinese generals not thirty-six hours ago. That’s kinda what they do.”

The cards whooshed from bridge to pile. Cirilai warmed my hand, warning me of Vayl’s imminent return. As I returned the cards to my pocket, I listened to him catch his first breath. When he came out of the tent I smiled. The last time I’d barged in on him right after he’d risen he’d been oooh-baby naked. Sometimes, late at night, I still brought out that picture and admired it.Woof, what a bod.

However, I had requested that he wear something when he slept so, on future missions, I wouldn’t even be temporarily distracted should I be called to save his not-so-bare ass. He’d obliged. At the moment he wore a pair of black silk pajama bottoms, tied at the waist. That was it. He raised his eyebrows to find me waiting.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

Maybe we should discuss the virtue of pajama shirts. Although it seemed almost sinful to cover that broad, muscular chest and that luscious flat belly.

“Jasmine?”

“Huh?”

“Not that I mind, terribly, but why are you sitting in my bedroom?”

I sighed. Ogling my boss’s pecs, while deeply pleasurable, did nothing for my inner morale. Not only was it just plain unprofessional, it wasn’t even wholehearted. Big sections of me still wanted nothing to do with any man. So why did my sex drive keep revving the engine? Stupid mindless radiator full of idiot hormones.

“RVs are too small,” I said in hurried response to Vayl’s get-on-with-it jerk of the head. I explained about the medallion and my talk with Bergman. He nodded and began to collapse his sleeping tent. While I helped him, I filled him in on my recent conversation with Albert as well.

Vayl slid the tent into its carrying case, sat back on the bed, and laced his fingers behind his head. “So what do we know about Samos?”

“Not much,” I said, leaning against the wall, fighting the frustration that would only mar my thinking. “He’s an American-made vamp who came up through the ranks of a Vampere house-hold. Though how we found that out I’ll never know. The Trusts are traditionally impossible to penetrate.”

A flickering in his eyes told me maybe I’d discovered our source. “Vayl? Were you ever Vampere?” After the words slipped out I wanted to cover my mouth. Apologize. It was the equivalent to asking a priest if he’d ever been a mule for the mob.

His hands dropped to his lap. “Yes.”

I waited for excuses, but he made none. So I threw one in. “I imagine you were very different back then.”

“You would not have known me. You would not have wanted to.”

“What . . . why did you get out?How did you get out? You and Samos are the only two vamps I’ve ever heard of who’ve managed that.”

“As yoursverhamin I am bound to answer those questions, but I must ask you to take them back. It would be too dangerous for you to know.”

Dangerous for you, or for me?I wondered. However, I simply nodded and went on with my Raptor review. “Samos seems to spend most of his time recruiting allies from the supernatural community. Though vampires usually shun allothers , seeing themselves as far superior even to vamps from other nests, Samos is known to have partnered with weres and witches, not to mention humans.”

“So is he building is own army?” Vayl wondered.

“It sure looks that way. With Pengfei and Lung as his allies, and this reaver in his pocket, he goes from America’s problem to a worldwide threat. Which makes it all the more imperative that we get that armor.”

“Yes,” Vayl agreed. “And I believe we must find a way to eliminate the reaver, Desmond Yale.”

CHAPTERTHIRTY-THREE

As we entered the living room area, Vayl took the crossbow he would use off its perch on Mary-Kate. A sleek black model made from mahogany and stainless steel, heavy, but accurate, it had been Matt’s weapon of choice. And I’d carried it with me faithfully since his death. Now it held the bolt Bergman had modified to make sure it dropped its internal load once it penetrated Pengfei’s skin. I thought I’d be okay with Vayl pulling the trigger to Matt’s weapon as long as we got our outcome.

Cassandra, Cole, and Bergman, still finishing supper at the table Bergman had finally been able to clear now that he’d finished his projects, kept snatching glances at the bow. I watched them, trying to fathom their thoughts. If I had to guess, I’d say Cassandra wondered if she could bear the visions that would arise in her mind if she touched it. Cole tried to see himself pulling the trigger. Bergman prayed the mechanism he’d designed to release the inner light would work before Pengfei had a chance to rip our guts out.

Vayl cleared his throat, calling their attention to him. “I would like you three to move about the new tent they erected for us as if you were preparing for another show. We do not want anyone who might be watching to become concerned with our behavior.”

Cole looked up, wanting badly to say something, but we both stared him down. “It sucks being the rookie,” he said.

“I’m going to get changed,” I said.

I went to the bedroom, pulled Pengfei’s dress off its hanger and yanked it down over my butt. With slits up both legs clear to the upper thigh, it left no hiding place for a leg holster. That was the downside. The upside—though it looked quite formal, it had been designed for ease of movement.

The matching low-heeled slippers I’d found in Pengfei’s closet didn’t fit. Her feet were too narrow, making me feel like Cinderella’s stepsister. Cassandra owned a flashy pair that would work, as long as I didn’t mind nursing blisters on my heels for the next week. I did. So I went with my boots. Let people laugh. Next time Pete could just give me fair warning that I’d be costumed like a geisha at some point in my upcoming assignment.

Vayl came in and sat quietly on the bed while I worked on my makeup. I could tell he had something on his mind. And the acid-laced squeegee in my stomach said it would be one of those hard-to-face issues. So I concentrated on the makeup and hoped he’d let me pretend we had nothing to discuss.

The eyes were the tricky part. Pengfei laid it on thick and yet somehow made it out the door without resembling a prostitute. I managed a pretty good likeness and moved on to the accessories. Long black earrings. Braided wig over my tightly bound hair. The translator wires wound happily among the fake tresses. I took the necklace Cassandra had made off the dresser where I’d laid it when we’d come in.

Vayl stirred, making the springs in the bed squeak in protest. I agreed with them. “I was waiting for you to mention it before, but you seem to be following your usual tactics of dodge and ignore so I will say it straight out. Last night, you slept,” he said. “I guarded you until dawn and you did not move a muscle.”

I turned to look at him. Moved close enough for him to hear me speaking English. “No, I didn’t.”

“I take it those troubles that spurred you to sleepwalk have settled themselves.”

I nodded carefully. “I’m never sure with me,” I said. “But I think it’s done with.” I wanted to stop there. I tried. But a guy who sits with you for hours to make sure that your snoring doesn’t turn to shooting deserves something for his efforts. So I struggled to put what I’d learned about the dreams into words. “I’ve needed, wanted to move forward. But I haven’t been able to, knowing that meant I had to let Matt go. I think that’s why I kept dreaming of him as a vampire. Because he didn’t want to live on in that form any more than Jesse did. It would’ve been easier, in a way, to say goodbye to him if he had turned in the end.”

Vayl nodded soberly. “It matters so much the way in which people leave us. Perhaps it should not. Dead is dead. But the why and how make such a difference to the survivors.”

And I am one. David told me that. Evie’s words came back to me now too. “You can only cry so long before it doesn’t do you any more good.” I was done crying. The time to grieve had passed. Because I knew Matt would want me to be happy now. But I needed to make something clear to Vayl. “I’ll always love Matt. Things will sometimes remind me of him. And sometimes I’ll miss him. When I’m ready to commit to another guy, it won’t mean I love him any less because of that.”

Vayl nodded. “I understand.”

“But . . .” I cleared my throat, lowered my eyelashes, trying not to seem too eighteenth-century miss and blushing like a schoolgirl anyway. “I don’t, I still feel kinda”—I made a gagging sound that raised both of Vayl’s eyebrows as I continued—“when I think of relationships.”

Again with the dimple.I have got to find a suitable sound effect to herald its arrival, it’s that rare. Do they make portable foghorns? Vayl said, “I am happy you have found a sense of peace. And perhaps, someday soon, you will meet a man who does not make you want to vomit?”

I shrugged, trying for nonchalant and utterly failing. “You never know.”

“In the meantime, would you care to fill me in on the rest of your day’s agenda?”

“Actually, it sucked. I had to kill Shao’s brother because he was possessed by a reaver. And now that I know what reavers are about, I’m almost certain Yale and Pengfei mean to disrupt the festival somehow.” I told him Jericho and his buds would be providing undercover security, for which I heaved an audible sigh of relief.

Vayl said, “It sounds to me as if you need some fresh air. Shall we find ourselves a Chinese Dragon Lady?”

“Yeah, but how? And if she’s with Lung—”

“Which is likely—”

“How do we separate them?”

“If we are masters at anything, besides assassination, it is thinking on our feet. We will work it out when we have a situation to actually—how do you say—scope out.”

“Okay. So. Finding her. That’s going to be a challenge. It’s a big city, Vayl.”

“I think you have the ability to track her, Jasmine,” he said earnestly. “Remember how you found me in the parking lot of our hotel in Miami?”

“Yeah, but you were within a few yards of me.”

“That is true. But we must begin somewhere. And perhaps wearing Pengfei’s dress will help direct your Sensitivity even further. These are not just random ideas, you know. In the past, Sensitives have been documented as having the ability to hunt vampires.”

“Do we have any idea where to start looking though?”

“We can make an educated guess. We know Pengfei and Lung do not spend their daylight hours aboard theConstance Malloy . Which means someone must ferry them to shore. I suggest we find the boat that brought them to land last night and try to follow their trail from that point.”

“Okay.” If I sounded less than enthusiastic it might’ve been because I thought it was a really far-fetched idea. Unfortunately I couldn’t come up with a better one, so we were stuck.

Fully dressed, with the medallion tucked under my collar and the translator wire woven in and around my wig hair, I minced down the RV’s hallway. I’d spent what moments I could spare that afternoon watching Pengfei reruns on Bergman’s laptop, trying to master her mannerisms. I was doing my best, but something felt wrong.Probably just my underwear inching up my crack because the damn dress fits too tight .

Cole had a great view from his perch in the driver’s seat. He whistled when he saw me. “Freaky!”

“I agree,” said Cassandra. She had donned a new Psychics-R-Us costume and was helping Bergman pack the last bits of his modular lab away in plastic bins. That he had allowed anyone, much less her, to touch his sacred bits said that he’d taken my last lecture pretty seriously. I hoped this was a solid sign he didn’t want to grow up to be a big, skinny creep.

He noticed me watching him and said, “Our benefactors sent over a sound system about an hour ago. As soon as we get done here we’ll go over there and set it up.” He left what he was doing to hand out mouth-mints and hearing aids. “We’ll be using the same communications system as when we set up video surveillance on the yacht. Transmitting wasn’t a big deal there because we were all so close. In this case it’ll be more of a challenge.”

He gave Vayl and me the fake tattoos we’d used on our last mission. Mine was a dragon. Ironic, huh? Vayl’s was a line of barbed wire. They would allow us to transmit from much greater distances. Once Bergman had outfitted and tested us, Cole nudged Vayl to get his attention. “Are you sure you don’t need some help? I could carry your crossbow.” He glanced at the weapon, which Vayl lifted from its resting place as if it weighed nothing.

“This is a job for two,” he said.

“Okay”—sigh of disappointment—“call if you need me.”

“I will need you,” I reminded him. “Don’t assume Pengfei’s going to speak to me in English. I’m gonna need a fast translation of whatever she says and it can’t be from some guy lurking in the bushes. You know what I mean? This has got to be done right.”

Cole nodded, sitting a little straighter now that he understood the crucial nature of his role. “Gotcha.”

“Do we still have Jericho’s card?” I asked Cassandra.

“Yes.”

“If something goes down, call him.” Cassandra dove into her purse. After unearthing three pairs of sunglasses, a tile sample, and a box of tampons that made Bergman literally leap for the door, she found it.

“Good job,” said Cole as he took it from her and keyed the number into his phone.“Remind me to bring you on my next mining expedition.”

“I need this stuff,” she said as she returned the items to their rightful places.

I shook my head. I didn’t even own a purse. “We have to go.”

They nodded. Cole held up his phone to indicate he’d be ready if it all went to crap.

“Good luck,” said Cassandra.

Outside we caught Bergman halfway to the tent. He glanced at the crossbow in Vayl’s hands, nodded at the bolt nesting in its position, ready to fire as soon as Vayl switched off the safety. “I hope it works.”

“Don’t worry,” I said, patting the gun holstered under my armpit. “We have a backup plan.” Actually I could’ve patted other areas of my body as well, but then I’d have either looked like I was hunting for matches or feeling myself up. Either way, a lame way to communicate that I’d added some blades to the mix as well. Bergman nodded and moved on.

Oddly enough, a Chinese woman wearing black boots and a large Rumanian man carrying a crossbow don’t draw a whole lot of attention at a large entertainment venue. We stayed off the path as much as possible, but in some places were forced to join the growing crowd as we made our way to the marina. The office was open and it only took two crisp twenties to discover the docking point for our vamps’ water taxi.

They’d tied it close to the path. Vayl helped me climb in and my doubts mounted. We were wasting valuable time in this spotless vessel. Not one shred of Pengfei remained for me to detect.

“Take your time,” suggested Vayl. “Try a few different seats. Maybe she has left a bit of herself behind.”

She wouldn’t have driven, so I sat in the rear. Nope, nothing. But, hey, we were talking about Pengfei here. She wasn’t interested in backseats.

I moved to the front.

Nothing.

With a mounting sense of unease I let my eyes roam the vessel, the dock, paths she might have taken from there. Hundreds, if not thousands, of lives could depend on me figuring out Pengfei’s location tonight and my Sensitivity hadn’t stirred since—

“Hey, wait a minute.” I pointed to Vayl as if he’d done something wrong. “You’re not simmering.”

“I . . .” He scanned down his body, as if debating whether he should check for BO or blisters. “Pardon me?”

“I can’t feel your power. I can’t sense you at all. You’re like a big blank to me!” I got up, tight waves of fear rising and falling in my chest. I held out my right fist, shaking it at him. “I can’t feel the ring, either. Usually it’s warm on my finger, especially when you’re around. What the hell is happening to me?”

Cassandra’s voice boomed in my ear: “Jasmine, listen to me.”

“What?”

“I think the magic of the medallion is squashing your Sensitivity. Take it off.”

Easier said than done when it’s tucked inside a tight dress underneath a long wig intertwined with a translator wire. What a pain in the ass. Yet as soon as I’d shucked it, relief washed over me. Yup, the underwear had definitely wriggled out of the crack. I felt Vayl’s cold, controlled powers doing their usual slow roll. I could see better too, as if I’d been running around wearing sunglasses at night and just remembered to take them off.

I slumped back in the seat, the medallion bunched in one hand, the other braced against the cushion. I hoped to maintain my balance if the boat went rocky, rocky. Instead it whispered, “Pengfei.” But not loud enough. I’d never be able to follow that murmur of sound all the way to its source.

I leaned over the side of the boat, stared into the water, knowing what I needed to do, wondering how to broach the subject. Vayl had resisted almost violently the first time, and he’d been in dire need then.

“I feel like we’re running out of time,” I said as I gazed, almost mesmerized, into the tiny waves the boat’s movements made in the bay. I tore my eyes away from the water, thinking Vayl’s weren’t so different. Deep pools you could get lost in forever, if you wanted to.

“What are you saying?”

“I sense her, but it’s not enough. I need to heighten this ability. And I only know one way to do that.”

His focus sharpened, narrowed to me. “You mean, you want me to take your blood.”

Multiple intakes of breath as our crew reacted. I’d almost forgotten they could hear us.

“Yes. And before we spend the next twenty minutes arguing the morality of the issue, why don’t you just admit I’m right, it’s a great idea, and we may save a lot of lives this way?”

His presence, a constant hum at the back of my head, began to expand. It was as if my request had released some huge inner padlock, opened a creaky old door, and allowed him to fill with the true blood of his personality. For an instant I felt the full brunt of his power. It spun out of him like a tornado, sparking visions like lightning strikes. I saw the labyrinth of rage, pain, and violence he’d mastered on his way from his own downfall to my side. His strength and sense of purpose impressed me. I recognized his devotion to the job, his passion for justice. And the hope that he would someday meet his boys again, which gave everything else shape and direction. Gawd Almighty, if you could capture his essence in clay or oils you’d have yourself a masterpiece. And then, just as suddenly, he pulled it back. “All right,” he said, his voice husky with the bit he couldn’t quite suppress.

“Wow,” I whispered, struggling to keep my head on straight. He had such a way of turning me sideways. Hadn’t that bothered me once? “That was faster than I figured.”

Twitch of the lip. Glint in the eye that took me slightly aback. It was so . . . hungry. Which was when I realized he hadn’t eaten yet. Must’ve meant to take his fill from Pengfei and Lung. And the reaver, if we could find him. He’d told me once that he did it as a failsafe. His way of knowing for certain he wasn’t taking out innocents. He was already sitting next to me. Now he slid closer. “Tell me you are certain.”

“Well, I was.”

“And then?”

“Then I remembered how much you like the taste of Jaz.”

Out came the dimple again. Hell, if it was going to become this common I’d have to announce its arrival with a bicycle bell. “If it makes you feel better, I will let you bite me first.”

“No!” The chorus of negatives boomed into my ears like a megaphone alarm.

“Um, team, I would function better if I could hear tonight,” I said.

Cassandra’s voice came, thankfully softer, but just as deep as the others. “We just wanted to let you know how much we enjoy the fact that you’re human.”

I assumed we were using the term loosely, considering both my history and foreseeable future. “Don’t worry, kids. I’m not vampire bound. Just intent on enhancing some of my finer traits.” I looked up at Vayl. “You’re going to enjoy this, aren’t you?”

His eyes glittered with an otherworldly light as he regarded me. “I am vampire, Jasmine. Would you have me pretend otherwise?”

“Ummm, no.” I realized we were done with the foreplay. Vayl’s arm, already across my shoulders, dropped behind my back and pulled me close. “These marks can’t show,” I murmured.

“I will take care to conceal them,” Vayl assured me, his words muffled as his lips crossed the line of my jaw. My neck tingled as the tips of his fangs brushed my carotid. They moved lower as he pulled back my collar and thumbed open the top button of my dress. I think my eyes actually did a one eighty in their sockets as his teeth pierced the skin just below my collarbone.

The last time Vayl had taken my blood I’d blacked out partway through. This time I stayed up for the whole show. And it rocked. I tried to work out why, but that part of my brain hit the deck first. The rest of me, well it doesn’t seem quite decent to describe the feelings Vayl woke in me. Knowing Cassandra and the boys could hear the whole shebang, I stayed silent, though I badly wanted to moan, encourage, and at the very end, shout in triumph, as if I’d summited Everest without oxygen, or a map, or even a Sherpa to guide me.

When Vayl straightened, he looked as astounded as I felt. “It was actually better this time. How can that be?”

“Age?” I hazarded. “You know, like fine wine?”

His laugh, which generally held not one iota of amusement, made me smile. “How do you feel?” he asked as he fished his handkerchief out of his pocket and laid it against the mark.

“Great, actually,” I said. “Though it probably won’t last. I crashed pretty hard the first time.”

“Then we should move quickly.”

“Agreed.”

CHAPTERTHIRTY-FOUR

He checked his handkerchief. The bleeding had already stopped, so I buttoned up. “Vayl, it worked.”

“Already?”

Oh yeah. I realized I could practically see in the dark, even without activating my special lenses. And I could see Pengfei as well, with that other, mental eye that sensed vampires the way bloodhounds scent rabbits. She had sat in this very spot. Still. Serene. Her head tipped toward the stars as if enjoying the ride but, in reality, leading the charge.

I closed my eyes, concentrating on her psychic trail. “I think we’re going to be able to find her. My Sensitivity—it’s definitely enhanced.”

“Something is happening to me as well,” Vayl said. “A change I cannot as yet pinpoint.” I’d never heard that particular tone in his voice before. Then I realized. It was wonder. I opened my eyes. How long had it been since anything had made him marvel? We stared at each other. “I chose rightly in you, myavhar .”

“Why, Vayl, that almost sounds like a compliment.”

“Do not let it go to your head.”

“Don’t worry. If I do I’ll probably just end up ramming it into another tent pole.” I stood, sat back down as the dizzies hit me, and said, “Maybe you should go first.”

Vayl disembarked, helped me out, and then waited patiently while I shut my eyes again. Yup, there it was. A definite Pengfei bouquet, kinda like skunk only lethal. I opened my eyes because, let’s face it, this was going to be hard to do if I kept running into things like, oh, I don’t know, the Gulf of Mexico. The trail faded somewhat, but I could still sense it. I squinted and it came clearer. Okay, so I guessed I’d have to do this looking as if I needed a good pair of bifocals. Why, oh why, couldn’t I once receive a Gift that required a good tan and my own personal stylist?

Vayl made a noise that I translated as a badly disguised chuckle. “You just keep your smart-ass remarks to yourself,” I said.

“I did not say a word.”

“You didn’t have to. Let’s go.” I headed toward the parking lot from which groups of Texans were still emerging, talking and laughing, gearing up for big fun. I wanted to run them off, one and all, and to hell with the consequences. Instead I followed Pengfei’s trail east, to the open area Cole and I had driven past on our scouting expedition. An antiqued silver sign labeled it as Sanford Park. The bay with its seawall still ran to our right. Pengfei’s trail led us on a straight course up a grassy slope to the band shell.

In the summer I supposed the hill would fill with families carrying blankets and picnic baskets, old couples with lawn chairs, maybe a few young lovers looking for a cheap date, listening to free concerts given by the local symphony. But judging by the fact thatBRITNEY LUVS MARK was written in big red letters across the back wall, I supposed nobody had played a note here in months.

Built to withstand some nasty blows, the building looked sturdy as a post office. Excellent foundation. Solid floors. Expensive, recessed lighting. All the wiring snaked under the stage, so when Pengfei’s scent took me to a trap door at the front I wasn’t surprised. Vayl lifted the door and went down first. I followed.

We found their resting places almost immediately. Two shallowly buried coffins, open and empty.

“Dammit,” I said.

“You guys okay?” It was Cole, sounding worried. I nearly snapped at him, but held it in check. It’s always hardest to wait.

“We’re fine,” I said. “They’ve already risen, that’s all.”Of course they have. You knew that. Vamps don’t sleep in, you fool. They have places to go. People to eat. I moved on, following Pengfei’s trail back onto the stage. She had walked to the rear, taken the stairs off the east side, headed toward the gazebo. Even by night it beckoned.Stop here. Look at the bay. Step out of yourself for one second and acknowledge that there’s something more, something better out there.

“Vayl,” I whispered as we reached the building.

“I know.”

Had he, like me, smelled it before he saw it?

No. Not it. Her. That bitch, Pengfei, does not get to reduce anyone to an it.But she’d tried. Her victim lay on the floor of the structure, what was left of her anyway. Pengfei had mangled her neck like a poodle’s chew toy. Then she’d torn open the woman’s chest. Or maybe something else had. Because most of the contents were missing, including her heart.Reaver, whispered my mind, and my churning gut agreed.

In fact, inspired by its proximity to real acrobats, my stomach proceeded to attempt a quadruple double-twisting backflip. Since it still hadn’t sifted through all the grease from its last meal, the results were not pretty. I left them in the bay.

“Pengfei and Desmond Yale.” I spat out their names along with the taste of vomit. Weren’t they just the pretty pair? Which took my mind back to Samos, the Matchmaker from Hell. He should have his own Web site—psychodates.com. I could just see him making the morning talk show circuit. “Honest, Regis, it works every time! Our clients fill out a thirty-page personality profile. Yes, there’s a nominal charge, but we make akilling from the revenues! Haw, haw, haw!” How satisfying would it be to charge right out of the audience and shove my fist through his face? On a scale of one to ten? Ninety.

Vayl’s hand on my arm brought my attention back to the present. “You cannot function if you let such feelings take hold,” he said.

Don’t I know it. I looked down at my hands, shaking with the rage I felt at this senseless death. And yeah, a little bit at being the one who had to find her body, feel her pain, take her revenge. These were the times I wished I’d been more like Evie. If I could’ve been satisfied with her kind of life I could’ve avoided a buttload of pain.

“What do we do?” I asked.

“Find Pengfei.”

“But this woman’s soul—”

“—may still be in the eye of the reaver, or may already be lost. Either way, there is nothing you can do right now, especially if Pengfei is planning a disaster, as you suspect.”

“For a guy who wants to live forever, you sure have a callous way of looking at death,” I snapped.

Vayl stared at me until I met his eyes. “I could ask you where you get off saying such a thing, considering your profession,” he said, his tone so even I knew he was working to keep it that way. Which meant I’d better back down before he decided I needed a little hardening and I spent the next six weeks viewing corpses in all sorts of gruesome situations. “However, recognizing you have made the mistake of identifying with this woman, I will simply remind you to keep your mind on the job and save the souls you can.”

I turned away. Vayl was right. I couldn’t rescue them all. I looked over my shoulder, hating myself because I couldn’t cry— because it would smear my makeup. Boy was I ever into my part now. All I had to do was steal some kid’s cotton candy and I could easily pass for the biggest louse on earth.

“Jasmine, stop slouching,” ordered Vayl, taking out the remnants of his ire on my posture. “Pengfei does not slouch.”

“She should. Actually, she should slither. Then, the next time I see her, I can just stomp her head in.” With that grimly satisfying picture in my head I followed Pengfei’s steps back to the Winter Festival, down the same path Cole and I had taken only a couple of days before. What a contrast now. Crowded with bright-eyed, laughing families, lined with carefully painted booths and rides that looked like they’d been built by NASA and lit by the White House Christmas decorators, the Corpus Christi Winter Festival seemed like an idea plucked from the mind of Einstein.

We left the path just before we reached the Chinese Acrobats’ Arena. Pengfei’s route had taken her behind the multicolored building into the center of the acrobats’ camp. The place practically echoed since the show was on. We could hearooh s andaah s and occasional bursts of applause from where we stood, staring at the back of a small Winnebago.

“Nice propane tanks,” I said lamely.

“Yes,” Vayl agreed.

“I don’t get why her presence is heavier here. Nothing seems out of place to me. How about you?”

Vayl stooped and looked beneath the camper while I climbed to view the top of it. When we’d rejoined each other we both shook our heads. Nothing.

“Moving on?” I asked.

“I suppose so,” he said.

I went back into squint mode and followed Pengfei’s by now familiar trail. It led us directly to the arena. She’d bypassed the main entrance and followed one puffy red wall to the back of the building where a smaller purple structure attached to the main body. It allowed the acrobats quick access to the large open space within.

“She went in here,” I whispered. The crowd applauded as something impressive just happened. We stepped inside the entryway for a better view, but a black curtain had been drawn to hide the area in which we stood along with about two feet of the back wall. The house band switched from tension-building music to a dance-in-your-seat tune. I grabbed Vayl’s arm. “She’s in here.”

We peered through an opening in the curtain. “There,” said Vayl. “She is in the front row, wearing the white short-sleeved top with the turquoise pants, sitting next to Lung in the gold robes.” Vayl looked down at me. “How are you going to explain the change of clothes to Lung when you finally see him?”

“Won’t have to. He’ll already know somebody spilled a Cherry Coke on me.”

“So that is how you are planning to separate them?”

“Yup. I’ve got twenty bucks in my pocket says I can get one of the upstanding young men in this audience to do me just that favor before this show is over. Look.” I pointed to a set of stands to our right. “See that tall lanky college kid on the back row? The one drinking two beers at once? I’m thinking he’s the one.”

“Would you like me to do the talking?” he offered, perhaps thinking the two of them would bond immediately, being male and all. I thought he’d probably scare the hell out of the kid. Even with his powers banked, he still carried with him an I-could-easily-kick-your-ass air that kept most guys at a safe distance. But I didn’t say any of that.

“Nope. Let’s leave it to the money.” We began to move, but stopped as the entire perimeter of the floor rotated counterclockwise, circling our frat boy, along with the rest of the audience, a quarter of a turn to the left. A stream of acrobats ran past us and onto the performance floor, which had remained in place. The audience cheered and stamped their approval of this innovation. We exchanged impressed glances.

“Wonder who thought that up?” I said.

“Do you think they have their own resident Bergman?”

“If they have to steal from ours?” After a couple of failed attempts I got college boy’s attention, found out he adored pranks and money, and had myself a new partner.

I couldn’t see Pengfei or Lung since the audience had rotated. I stood on my tiptoes and jumped up and down to no avail. “How’s it going?” I demanded. “Is he there yet?”

“Jasmine, trust more than your eyes.”

Vayl was so calm that I stood absolutely still, opened up all my senses, and simply sponged it all up. It took about three minutes, but at last I could say, “She’s moving.”

“Are you certain?”

I nodded. “She’s leaving. There’s an exit directly opposite ours. She’s headed out that way.”

“Go get her.”

Turning, lunging out the door, I avoided another group of acrobats with an agility that, since the Sensitivity had risen in me, had become a rarity. As soon as I regained visual contact with Pengfei I put the medallion back over my head right along with the edgy feeling of discomfort.

The real Pengfei was pissed and practically trotting, but I still managed to catch up with her on the path headed back toward the marina and that pretty blue ferry to theConstance Malloy . I grabbed her arm and hustled her off the trail to an unlit clearing just west of the festival. That she allowed me to move her at all reflected the depth of shock she felt at seeing her own face mirrored back at her from what should have been a total stranger’s countenance.

She recovered quickly, yanking her arm out of my grasp. “That is my dress!” she spat, enraged as any woman would be at the unmitigated gall. I kind of understood what she was saying just by her expression, but Cole translated almost as soon as she spoke.

I backed up, making space for my equipment to do its work as I spread her fan in front of my mouth. “Yes it is,” I said, “and you know what? Your ass is flat!” I felt better already.

“Who are you?” she hissed.

I spoke in a slow, stately manner so any hesitation I might make while waiting for Cole’s translation would be misinterpreted as an aged woman taking the time she so richly deserved. “Do you not recognize me, Pengfei Yan? I am your great-great-grandmother!”

Shao, with his talk of ancestors and honoring Wu, had given me the idea. I wasn’t sure about contemporary Chinese, but the old ones like Pengfei had worshipped their ancestors. Given that Vayl still carried a ton of the 1700s around with him, I hoped Pengfei remembered where she came from just as clearly.

Mustering some matriarchal ire, I added, “I cannot believe you do not recognize your own ancestor. But perhaps it is no surprise when you have not venerated me lo these many centuries as you know you should have, you ungrateful whelp.” When I saw I’d struck a superstitious chord I closed the gap between us just long enough to give her face a slap. Her hand went to her cheek as I backpedaled, pressing my lips together to keep my delighted chortle strictly mental. “Now tell me why I should not visit great plagues of the most foul luck upon you for the next three thousand years?”

“I have devised a wonderful plan, Honored Grandmother,” Pengfei said eagerly. “It will transform China into the world’s most powerful nation, as you and I know it should be.” My gesture told her to quit pissing around and get to the details. She leaned toward me and whispered, “I am blowing up the Chinese acrobats.”

I nearly slapped her again. Anything to strike the glee from her shining black eyes. But then people still might die, little people like Lai and E.J., and I couldn’t have that. “What a marvelous plan,” I drawled, “destroying your own people.” I spun my finger next to my temple and rolled my eyes. “Brilliant.”

“No, Grandmother, don’t you see? I have mailed letters to theWashington Post and theNew York Times taking responsibility for the explosion on behalf of the American fanatics who demonstrate outside the gates of this festival. My partner was able to transfer their fat leader’s fingerprints to the envelopes and even to the bomb itself. No one will doubt the story, because it is widely known that the Chinese acrobats are managed by vampires.”

“I do not understand. What American fanatics? Who are you framing?”

“The church people!” Pengfei cried. “Their hatred for the supernatural is well documented. They actually wrote a threatening letter to us when they heard we were bringing the acrobats to Corpus Christi. It was what gave us—well, our partner—the idea.”

“And who is this partner?”

Pengfei’s eyes practically glowed. “His name is Edward Samos. He sponsored a group of reavers to come and help us achieve our goals. What a ruthless beast their leader is!” She must be referring to Yale, who, I assumed, had carried both the security guard and Wu along inside him until Samos had found bodies for them. I wondered if there were any more out there that we should know about. But before I could frame a reaver question that wouldn’t sound too suspicious, I thought of one that was much more important.

“And this Samos. Why should he care about China?”

“He cares about the entire world! Every creature born or made with something extra, something that makes themother , falls under his protection as far as he is concerned.”

“And what is he protecting them from?”

She looked at me like my brains might be leaking out of my nose. “Humanity, of course.”

So Samos had found himself a cause, huh? Or was he just masquerading behind a worthy issue as a way to net more allies, soup up the power until even his battery overflowed?

“So when this bomb explodes?” I prodded. “What happens then?”

“Our countrymen will be enraged when so many of our people are killed so horribly on foreign soil. Words will erupt into bullets and those into bombs. And in the midst of the carnage we will emerge with a new army.” She clasped her hands in front of her chest as she imagined it, smiling madly at her vision of the bloody battlefield. “Men armored as dragons will lead the march across this land of self-absorbed, avaricious barbarians, leaving nothing but ash in their wake.”

“And just how did a little girl like you learn how to blow people up?” I demanded, planting my free hand on my hip. I sensed that Vayl had reached his position. I could signal him anytime now.

As I’d hoped, my dig offended her. “Women can do anything they wish these days, Grandmother. Sometimes all they have to do is read the right books or hire the right engineers. It is no longer necessary to marry the right man.”

I nodded as if I appreciated her point of view. “And so?”

“I wired the explosives to one of the campers. After the acrobats finish the show they will all return to their temporary homes to shower and change. And so, in”—she checked the diamond-studded watch on her right wrist—“fifteen minutes, all forty of our acrobats, including twelve children, will be dead!”

“You bitch!” yelled Cole so loud into my earpiece I thought for a second my hearing would be permanently impaired. I have rarely had to work so hard to keep the pain off my face. “Sorry, Jaz,” he said immediately. “Sorry, sorry. Won’t happen again.”

“But what if someone sees the bomb?” I asked.

“Never.” She said it with such utter confidence that my hopes of finding the device in time to disarm it died. “Mycantrantia ”—by that she meant her core power—“is that of concealment. Even if you stood directly on top of it you would never detect it.” Her laugh, a light and pleasant tinkle, caressed the air. “Even I could not find it now.”

It sucks to be right.If I hadn’t been so worried about the acrobats and their kids, not to mention innocent passersby, I’d have been deeply depressed. But Pengfei obviously wanted some Granny praise for her dirty deeds, so I said, “How exciting! You have certainly done well for yourself, Granddaughter. Please, let me do you the honor.” I bowed, deeply enough that the bolt from Vayl’s crossbow flew six inches over my back and straight into Pengfei’s stomach.

The sound she made was less of pain and more of shock and denial.

I stood up. “That’s what you get for ignoring your Granny.” Mocking words, but my mind was on the corpse lying in that gazebo. Not just dead. Soul raped.This one’s for you, victim lady. And when I get hold of that bastard Yale . . .

Both of Pengfei’s hands wrapped around the bolt, trying to pull it out, but Bergman had foreseen this possibility. As soon as it had penetrated her body, two long spikes had emerged from the tip, anchoring the bolt securely in her abdomen long enough for the wax covering the pill to melt. Theoretically, at least. She screamed as she pulled and things inside her body gave that should never have moved.

“Come on,” I murmured. “Come on, come on.” It was like standing in a cavern waiting for the tour guide to turn on his flashlight. But instead of brightening the night with an inner sunburst, Pengfei yanked the bolt free.“Shit!”

I should’ve known. Dammit, didn’t that welcome mat teach you anything, Jaz? Bergman’s prototypes only work half the time, and then not always how they’re supposed to. Stupid! Never want something to succeed so bad you totally deny reality waiting for it to work.

My hand itched to pull Grief, but I hadn’t been honest with Bergman when I’d said the gun served as our backup plan. It didn’t. Because Pengfei was Vayl’s kill. And I’d learned early in our partnership that you don’t stand between him and his target unless you want to remind him gently and repeatedly that you’re on his side while his eyes spit red fire and his cane sword waves dangerously close to your throat.

“Hey, what’s that over there?”

“I dunno. Let’s check it out!” Young, piping voices, headed our way.

I looked over my shoulder. Vayl had intercepted two wayward kids, and I saw several more looming right behind them.Damn, now he’s sidetracked by crowd control. What to do? What to do?

Pengfei dropped what was left of the bolt, which was when I realized the business end had remained in her body. But its reaction continued to delay itself far beyond our scheme. Originally the ignition had been timed for two hours. I’d asked for instant.

“Bergman!” I hissed, covering my mouth so, hopefully, the sound wouldn’t reach the translator. “Where’s thesizzle, wap you promised?”

“How long has the pill been active?”

“I don’t know, a few seconds.”

“Give it time,” he pleaded. “I know it’ll work.”

“Do you have any idea what you’re asking?”

“I know it’s dangerous, but this could revolutionize the way we fight vampires. Please, Jaz. I put my heart and soul into this.”

Oh, for crying out loud.

Pengfei began to back away.

“Where are you going?” I demanded.

“Yacht,” she muttered. “Safe there. Heal better there.” As she spoke, blood spilled from the side of her mouth.

I strode toward her. “I don’t think so,” I said, pulling a classic bully move—ankle behind the calf, hard shove that took her to the ground. Except I hung my arm out there a little too long. It gave her time to grab hold, pull me off balance, and flip me over onto my back. Remembering how lethal her hand-to-hand fighting skills had shown themselves to be during the yacht massacre, I quickly rolled to my feet. The wound had slowed her some. She’d only just made it to vertical herself.

I moved in fast, aiming multiple kicks at that bleeding midsection, hoping to weaken her more. She blocked every one.

Having seen her style, I expected a counterattack of such blinding speed that all thought would be suspended in the simple act of survival. But the wound had taken its toll on her aggression as well. She came at me with one arm down, guarding her stomach. The other snaked out, stabbing at my throat.

I dodged the blow, landing one of my own in the middle of her chest, which staggered her. Closing in, I tried to take her down again, but she backed me up with a series of low kicks, a couple of which landed square enough to leave my shins black-and-blue for days.

I faked a kick to her abdomen and she dropped her arm, leaving her head wide open. So I pulled the kick and powered it upward, landing it just above her right eye.

She dropped to her knees.

Vayl came to my side. “She’s all yours,” I said.

“Actually, I think Bergman has taken care of her,” he replied.

I peered down at her. The skin had begun to peel off her hands, neck, and face in thin, curling strips. Heat built inside her quickly after that, so fast I could feel it blasting from her, as if I was standing too close to a bonfire.

We backed off as steam rose from her body. It soon became a torrent of smoke that bubbled and blackened along with her skin. Her hair and clothes finally caught fire, and I heard a couple of kids say, “Hey, check that out!”

Vayl caught them before they’d stepped more than a foot off the path. “Go home,” he said grimly. They turned tail and went.

CHAPTERTHIRTY-FIVE

As we hurried away from Pengfei’s smoking remains I said, “Cole?”

His voice boomed in my ear, loud, low, and excited. “Just got off the phone with Jericho. The evacuation has started. He said the bomb squad may be able to contain the blast some, but it’ll still be big.”

“Okay. Tell them we’re going to put a great big mark on the camper that’s wired. They won’t be able to find the bomb. Tell them not to waste time trying; it’s magically concealed. But at least they’ll know its location.” Who knew, maybe they’d be able to blanket the place with some sort of retardant. As I recalled, it wasn’t that big. At least if it was the one we’d inspected earlier. And I knew it was. What a crock of crap. We’d looked all over the thing without once realizing we were staring straight at the bomb. A thought occurred to me. “Uh, would you move the RV again? If that sucker gets damaged Pete will be twitching well into the next decade.”

“Sure.”

Vayl touched my arm. Even now, with everything behind us and all we were about to go through, that light stroke of fingers on skin fired my attention. “Yes?” I said, working to keep my voice level.

“Our time is limited. I will go mark the camper. You find Lung.”

Without even a “See ya later, alligator” he was gone. As I strode toward the main path I thought,This is going to be harder now. Lung’s in the crowd that’s being herded toward the building exits. He knows they’ve been compromised. What am I supposed to tell him? What would he believe?

I’d reached the Acrobats’ Arena. Wide-eyed people came pouring out of the main entrance, clutching each other and their children, talking in high voices, many of them crying. But nobody was screaming. Nobody had broken into a run. Credit the off-duty SWAT guys who flanked the exit and the path and who I could hear inside the building, speaking in calm, authoritative voices.

I tried to sense Lung among that mass of humanity. He shouldn’t be that hard to pick out. I recalled the scene in our tent, just before it burned. What was his scent like again? Wait, I was still wearing the medallion. Then I realized it didn’t matter.

“This is bad,” I muttered.

Vayl, hearing me through his earpiece, asked, “Is the crowd out of control?”

“They’re okay. I’m not. It’s Lung. Vayl, I never scented him. Not once. It was always Pengfei or the other vamps around him, but never him. The armor covers it up. I haven’t seen him yet, and if I can’t pick him out of this crowd, I have no way to find him. Wait a second. Something’s happening around back.”

I ran behind the building, led by the sound of a woman shouting and crying. I rushed forward when I recognized Xia Ge struggling in her husband’s arms. “Ge!” I said. “What’s wrong?”

She took one wide-eyed look at me, screamed, and passed out. That was when I remembered I still looked like Pengfei.

I leaned in close to Shao. “Dude, it’s me, Lucille Robinson. What happened?”

Poor Shao looked half dead himself, but he managed to say, “Chien-Lung is kidnap Lai.”

“How?”

“Lai strap in stroller. Ge sitting in front row, watching show. When evacuation begin she going out acrobats’ exit. That where Chien-Lung strike her down and take Lai away.”

“Where’d he go?”

Shao pointed back toward the marina.

I squeezed Shao’s arm. “I’m going after him, Shao.” I wished I could promise to bring his baby back. But both of us knew we didn’t live in that kind of world.

I took off after Lung. “Cole, I want you out looking too,” I said. “Not confronting, just looking.”

“I’m on it!” he replied.

Vayl said, “I am inside the camper trying to find something to mark it with, but I will be with you shortly.”

“Try mustard,” I suggested.

“Ahh.”

“It shouldn’t be that hard to find the guy,” I told them. “How many Chinese men wearing gold robes pushing baby strollers do you see on a daily basis?”

“None,” Cole replied. “But people are starting to trickle into the parking lot where I’m standing. I’ve got a pretty good view down the path behind them too, and the thing is, I’m not seeing any now either.”

What the hell? He should be sticking out like Santa Claus on a nude beach!

“Maybe he has the chameleon’s ability to blend in,” suggested Vayl.

Bergman’s voice came tight and shaking over our earpieces. “Listen, when we put the armor on certain animals theywere able to blend in with their surroundings. And these were mammals whose coats did not typically change colors with the seasons. It could be that he’s ditched the robes and the armor itself has become his disguise.”

Shit. Part of me just wanted to sit down on that dirty path along with the discarded candy wrappers, soda straws, bits of popcorn, and wads of tasteless gum and give the hell up. You think you’re almost to the top of that bastard of a mountain. You’ve killed the Empress of Doom. Saved the innocents. Staved off world war. And then some psycho dragon wannabe makes off with the second most adorable infant on earth,and he might as well be invisible. What the hell iswith that?

But I kept moving, kept studying faces, kept following the path. Then I heard it. Not clearly, but not distant either.

I couldn’t run. Not unless I wanted to start a stampede. But I picked up the pace big-time. Took that path nearly to the marina and then stopped again to listen. Above the babble of scared voices, crying children, and stern cop voices shouting directions, a baby screamed.

I said, “Guys, I spent enough time with E.J. to know the kid I hear crying right now is not hungry, wet, or tired. That is a freaked-out baby who wants his mommy.”

Vayl said, “I am on my way, but do not wait.”

“Cole?”

“I can see you.”

“Good. Keep me in sight. Be ready for anything.”

I zeroed in on the source of that sound. Within thirty seconds I found Lai, bawling so hard his chubby little cheeks were beet red and soaked with tears. Pushing his stroller was a person with Lung’s facial features. That was it. He had, indeed, shed his robes. His armor had crafted itself into a plain black suit, the long sleeves of which covered his hands. He even had matching shoes and a fedora.Bergman would be so proud, I thought bitterly.

Reminding myself to behave exactly as Pengfei would, I marched up to Lung and wrenched the stroller out of his hands. Maintaining translating distance was tough with people jostling us from every side, but I managed.

“Are you out of your mind?” I shrilled at him, remembering just in time to spread the fan in front of my mouth with my free hand.

Lung jerked the stroller back. “Samos betrayed us, as I warned you he would! You should never have trusted our grand plan to one who does not put China foremost! Now we are going to do this asI wished to! This child will be the start of an army trained from infancy to our way of thinking. With Chinese boys outnumbering girls five to one there is no limit to our supply. And now that we have the armor, we can ensure their invincibility on any field of battle on earth!”

Even in this horror-framed moment, when I understood if I so much as cocked my head in the wrong direction this lunatic would kill baby Lai, I couldn’t quite understand how Lung managed to contain all that insanity inside his spare frame. It seemed to me something monstrous should erupt from the top of his head, maybe a gigantic pus-covered fist holding a twenty-foot billboard flashing a warning to all comers not to be taken in by the fact that this guy could fake normality for long periods of time.

The words came out so fast I suspected I might be channeling Pengfei. A pleasant thought, as long as she loathed every second of it. “We’ll never get out of Texas with this baby, Chien-Lung. His parents have already sent the police after him. The FBI will join the search soon. Before we are out of American waters his face will be on millions of television sets. Additionally, think about this, we don’t have the resources to take care of one baby, much less the thousands we would need for an army.” I grabbed at the stroller. Lung yanked it to his right, out of my reach.

“Do not touch it!” he snarled.

I kept talking, which was stupid, I know. Lunatics don’t follow logic. But we were still surrounded by people. Vayl hadn’t arrived. There was Lai to consider. So . . . “Lung, please believe, the idea is strategic disaster. You must understand, Americans value children above all. They will be in no frame of mind to war with the Chinese when their hearts are breaking for Chinese parents who have lost their baby. At least let this one go. Wait until we get back home. Then you can take as many babies as you wish.”

The stroller inched toward me. My palms itched to seize it. Instead I smiled. “I have arranged for our speedboat to meet us in a private place, away from the crowds. If a reporter recognizes us we may never reach the yacht.”

What was that in his eyes? A moment of reluctant sanity? “All right.” The stroller came into my hands. As I pushed it into the crowd I felt, more than saw, Cole take command of it.

“Come.” I led him past the marina, across the auto-filled lot to Sanford Park. Why was it suddenly so dark? Oh yeah, the amulet squashing my enhanced vision again. Luckily I still had my night-vision contacts in, so I shut my eyes tight. When I opened them everything showed up much more plainly despite the fact that the whole area looked to have been pissed on by a drunken leprechaun.

I took Lung to the gazebo. The body lay where I’d found it. Lung crouched over it, wrinkling his nose at the smell. “I see you allowed Yale his share.” He stood. “Well, now that Samos is no longer our ally, at least we are rid of the reavers.”

“Yes. There is that.” I set the fan on the railing. Surely it was dark enough here he wouldn’t notice a lack of lip synching. Plus I needed both hands free now.

One cool thing about the dress I wore, the sleeves hid my wrist sheaths nicely. I’d loaded my syringe of holy water into the right one. The one on the left held my throwing knives. My bola had posed the biggest challenge. Cassandra had helped me solve it by braiding the wig hair around it and wrapping the bit of hilt that showed with red ribbon. It had never looked so pretty or given me such a headache.

“I don’t see any boats yet, do you?” I asked. I used my left hand to point back toward the marina. My right pulled back, activating the sheath’s automatic-feed system. Within a second I held the syringe.

As Lung turned to look, I lunged forward, jamming the syringe into his ear. But the armor saw me coming. It had moved at half-speed, as though confused by my disguise. But it had warded off my attack. By the time the needle hit, the scrape of metal on metal told me scales already covered the side of his head. However I knew better than to depend on a single attempt. I’d already begun reaching for my bola as I made my first move, and by the time I knew the syringe was useless the knife hilt filled my left hand.

Shocked that Pengfei would attempt to kill him, Lung’s first reaction was defensive. He crouched. After a brief delay, maybe only two or three heartbeats, the armor raced to cover his head. Already he had horns and fangs.

But that short pause had given me the opening I needed.

Using both hands to power the move, I jammed the bola through his cheek and into his nose. He screamed and jerked away, launching one of the spines off his back, more out of instinct, I think, than any real attempt to hurt me with it. It landed halfway up the hill and exploded, sending grass and dirt flying.

I yelled, “Vayl! Gazebo!Now !” Trying to avoid getting blown to bits or crispy-curled, I stayed in close, and I mean tight, like a tick on a German shepherd in the middle of July. Lung did his expanding act while I slammed kicks into his growing torso, trying to keep one eye on his tail and the other on his fire-breathing apparatus.

But it looked like the knife had done a number on the mechanism. In fact, a quarter of his face from cheek to forehead still remained scale-free. Blood splattered across his shoulders, me, and the grass as he shook his head, trying to dislodge the knife, but it wouldn’t budge.

When his claws ripped out of their wrappings I darted clear, remembering the damage they’d done his attackers on the yacht. But he seemed more intent on using them to knock the bola free. He roared as he somehow managed to wiggle it deeper, and a fresh gout of blood ran down his cheek and neck.

I popped the top button of Pengfei’s dress and drew Grief. It felt like taking aim at an F-18 with a spit wad. I was so not packing the necessary heat to smoke this monster. Hell, that kind of firepower might not even exist. But Vayl’s sudden presence along with his reassuring “I am here,” made me hope otherwise.

He ran past me so quickly I barely saw the blur as he leaped at Chien-Lung, making my heart stop for a terrifying two seconds as he went straight for the face and I thought, “Oh my God, what if the fire erupts now? What if he burns? He’ll never come back!” The possibility took the starch right out of my knees.

In movements so swift my eyes could barely follow, Vayl jerked Lung’s head around, using the hilt of the knife as a handle, and sank his fangs into the exposed skin of his face.

Lung went nuts. He screamed as if all the demons in hell were shredding his soul bit by tiny bit. He launched every single spike from his back, blowing so many pits in Sanford Park’s hillside it looked like the land had developed a skin-eating infection. His tail whipped wildly from side to side. He beat Vayl with his claws. He raked at his back, which should’ve left deep furrows that should have filled first with poison and then with blood. But they did neither.

Vayl released Lung and jumped away from him. I scrambled to my feet, keeping my eyes on those nongrievous wounds. I couldn’t believe what I saw.

“Vayl,” I whispered. “What’s happening?”

“The power you gave me tonight with your blood,” he said, his voice ringing with triumph. “Remember I said I could feel the change?”

“Yeah.”

“It is a secondcantrantia. The ability to consume another vampire’s power and make it my own.”

I came close to him, close enough to touch the torn edges of his shirt, the gaping openings of which revealed—“Ice,” I said. “You’re armored in ice.”

Bergman’s voice came tinny and distant in my ears. “Jaz, what’s happening? What did you say?”

“Bergman, I thought you said this armor was . . . was man-made. How could it . . . How could this . . .” Speech failed me as I watched scales cover the rest of Vayl’s back, neck, head, and face. Frosty-white scales that covered him with his own thick, hard armor. He didn’t get the dragon face. Didn’t grow to massive proportions or develop freaky claws. He simply looked as if he’d stood outside during a vicious ice storm.

I touched his back and yanked my fingers away, singed by the cold. His clothes weren’t holding up too well either. Rips developed in the thighs of his pants and his shirt pretty much disintegrated. Beneath—beautiful white scales. Even though I knew Vayl had somehow commandeered the biological portion of the armor and rebuilt it according to his own powers, my brain said,Bullshit, as my head shook from side to side in absolute agreement.

Lung couldn’t believe it either. “NO!” he screamed. “Not the white dragon!”

That’s right. He went after Cassandra so she wouldn’t repeat some long-dead monk’s prophecy to him. Something about—I looked at Vayl, shocked into utter stillness by his alien beauty—a white dragon. Nope, I didn’t see it. But then Lung wasn’t operating even close to reality. If I had to place Vayl in some sort of prophecy I’d call him a white knight. And we all knew how those stories ended.

He zeroed in on Lung like a torpedo, and Lung, with flight no longer an option, lowered his head and took it.

They slammed into each other like a couple of bull elephants. Scales and blood flew. The ground beneath their feet churned. They clawed and grappled, lost their balance, and rolled down the slope to the edge of the water.

Chien-Lung’s immediate disadvantage was grip. He couldn’t find a purchase on Vayl’s slick armor. His claws scraped harmlessly down Vayl’s sides, off his head and back.

Vayl, having never battled within that hard shell, moved like a freshman football player, slow and awkward, unsure of angles or even his own strength. But as he fought and didn’t lose, he gained confidence. Always aware of Lung’s vulnerable spot, he attacked the face again and again until it was an unrecognizable pit of blood and gore.

But during the course of his attacks, he broke the blade free. Lung blew one fiery breath. The armor encasing Vayl’s head and right arm cracked and blew apart, shards flying in every direction. I ducked, covering my head with my arms as deadly cold missiles landed all around me. When I looked up I discovered the clash had continued, but now Vayl fought to keep Lung from raking his vulnerable right side with claws, tail, and teeth. So far, so good, but he had no way to fight the flame.

“Bergman!” I yelled. “How long does it take to recharge the fire?”

“Thirty seconds!”

Shit!I couldn’t just stand and spectate anymore. I looked at Grief waiting in my hand.Nuh-uh. I need a big-ass, surefire weapon, and I need it now!

There! On the ground where Vayl had dropped it, the crossbow that had killed Pengfei lay as if waiting for this moment. Waiting for me.

I holstered Grief as I went for the bow. I grabbed it and ran toward Lung and Vayl. They still battled, half in and half out of the muddy water.

Keeping in mind that I held a finely crafted weapon made to last, I ran like hell, putting all my might into my swing as I came upon Lung, heaved that bow around, and whacked him sideways with it like he was a gigantic red baseball. My arms buzzed in protest as the crossbow banged against his armor. The right half of the lath snapped off and flew back, hitting me in the middle of the forehead, opening a wound that bled straight down my nose. Soon I spat and snorted blood like some half-dead horse. But I could still see, and at this point that was all that mattered.

I spun the crossbow around and gave Lung another hard hit, breaking the remainder of the lath free. Now I held a stake. The pointy end was actually the stock of the crossbow, but the lath no longer stretched both ways to impede its vertical movement.

“Fifteen seconds, Jaz!” said Bergman, urgency pushing his voice a couple of notches higher.

“Vayl!” I screamed. I scrambled up Lung’s heaving body, desperately trying to keep my balance as I moved toward his head. “Gonna need your strength,” I whispered, hoping Vayl heard, that he understood.

He had, but so had Lung. The voice that thundered in my head next was not Vayl’s or Bergman’s. Raoul yelled,DUCK!

I flattened myself on Lung’s armored back as his tail swept overhead, the whoosh of air at its passing nearly ripping the wig from my head.

“Ten seconds!” howled Bergman.

I stood and ran up Lung’s spine. Out of the corner of my eye I could see his tail swinging back around. This time it would hit me, throwing me so far up the hill I’d probably land on the hood of someone’s SUV. Unless . . .

“Vayl! Lock down on his jaw!”

“Five seconds!”

The angle had to be just right. Nearly vertical. Just like swinging on a pop can. I reared back with the stake and shoved it deep into the wound Vayl had opened.

“Now, Vayl! Pound it home!”

“Time’s up, Jaz!”

I jumped backward, landing in water so cold I thought my skin was going to pull anchor and motor off the job there for a second. I waded out fast, keeping clear of Lung’s thrashing body as Vayl hammered at the stake with his fists, plunging it deeper and deeper into Lung’s body.

It happened suddenly.

One moment Lung was writhing and shrieking. The next moment he was gone. My ears ached in the silence as I watched the smoke of his remains rise into the night.

Armor, I thought dully.We’re supposed to get the armor . I’d taken my boots off to dump the water out, so I left them on the grass as I went back to the waterline. My toes sank in the cold mud as I hooked the only bit of visible armor. The rest had sunk quicker than lead-weighted bait. Keeping my eyes on Vayl, I pulled the armor out hand over hand, feeling like a fisherman after a long day’s work.

“Bergman, come get your armor. Bring Cole with you for backup.” His joyous whoop nearly deafened me. But it brought a smile to my face too. We’d saved his baby. Speaking of which: “Did Lai calm down after you handed him to his parents?” I asked Cole as Vayl pulled himself upright and struggled onto land. I retrieved his cane from where he’d dropped it near the crossbow and tried to hand it to him.

He stared at me from transformed eyes, vertical pupils, silver irises, alien territory that still managed to look irritated with me. I thought it was because his hands, still encased in ice, couldn’t close over his cane. As I let it fall awkwardly to my side, he said, “I cannot believe that is the first thing you have to say to me!”

I took off the medallion, the better to anticipate his next move. If he decided to go all frosty on me (oh, great pun, Jaz, hardy har) we were going to have real problems. “I was actually speaking to our interpreter,” I informed him.

Cole said, “The baby was fine as soon as you took him from Lung. It was like he knew he was safe.” I nodded, satisfied now I knew we’d truly saved the kid.

I wished I could just shove my nose right up against Vayl’s and say, “As for you, what the hell crawled up your ass? We just won!” But I liked my job too well to piss off the guy who had the most influence on my continued employment. I could see his breath as he exhaled. He turned his head just before it could freeze my face.

Something about the way he held himself made me look over my shoulder. His shoulders, chest, legs were all still tensed, as if at any moment he’d have to leap back into combat.But I’m the only one here. Why’s he still playing defense? Then I had one of thoseaha! moments.

I took a deep breath. These were the times when I missed working solo. Just a little. Just the part where you don’t have to worry about hurting anybody else’s feelings. Ever. “Vayl, I’m a girl.”

“I do not need to be reminded . . .” he began, pulling himself up to his full height.

“Yes, you do. Obviously you do. Because I’m a girl, a baby’s safety will always come before how cool it is that you can encase yourself in ice and that you kicked Lung’s ass.”

“You . . . you think it is cool?” Did I detect a slight thaw in the ice-man?

“Are you kidding me? Look at this!” I touched a scale and pulled back quick, showing him my burned finger. “You are such a badass!”

He took a look at the evidence of his struggle with Chien-Lung. “Yes, I suppose I am.”

“And yet, if I hadn’t liked your new outfit? Would it really have made that much difference to you in the long run?” I asked. I wanted him to say no. I didn’t want to have that much influence. But I knew better.

“When you did not immediately speak, I thought you were going to say, ‘How is it that you can summon from within yourself such coldness that you only find in the Arctic? Where nothing lives? Where nothing grows? Where there is only emptiness?’” His original accent had crept into his voice, a sure sign of inner distress.

“Dude, you’re all about the chill. We humans even have a name for vamps with your abilities. Do you know how much clout having a Wraith on staff gives the CIA?”

He waved me off with a that’s-not-the-point gesture. “Jasmine, you wear my ring. You guard all that is left in me that is good. With a secondcantrantia such as this, I cannot be sure if the powers I gain will benefit me, or those I serve.” His voice dropped. “Especially the ones that make me feel invincible. I am strong. I am powerful. But I am still limited by my perceptions, my experiences. If you find my powers are changing me, warping me, tell me. I will reject them.” He ran his hands down his chest, which was currently better protected than if he’d been standing behind bulletproof glass. “Even if I cannot imagine being without them ever again.”

I couldn’t help the cynicism that laced my next question. “You’d dump the armor? Just like that?”

Twitch of the lip. “Perhaps not. But you are a persistent and creative woman. I feel you will find a way to convince me.”

Cole and Bergman arrived then, Bergman to gather up his armor, Cole to envy Vayl’s new form. “So is this a permanent thing?” Cole asked hopefully.

“Probably not,” Bergman said, eyeing Vayl from a respectful distance. “My guess is that it will recede as soon as you sleep, just like it did with Lung. You may even be able to call it up and make it go at will. But”—he shook his head—“I don’t really know. This shouldn’t have happened. I mean, yes, as a biological tool the armor would have changed Lung in very basic ways. And by taking his blood, I guess Vayl could have conscripted that change for himself. But . . . I never anticipated . . . any of this.” His eyes darted from Vayl’s shining armor to the medallion dangling from my fingers.

“I have to go, Jaz,” he said, hugging Lung’s armor to him like some long-lost teddy bear. “I’m sorry. But I have a lot of work piling up at home.” He started to back up. “I can’t deal . . . I have to go.”

“I understand,” I said. “Really. It’s okay.”

He bobbed his head, turned, and walked away.

Beside me, the smell of grape gum accompanied by the pop of an exploding bubble distracted my attention from Bergman’s receding back.

“Well, that sucks,” said Cole. “He left before he could make me a cool gun. Like yours, only better.”

I sighed and gave him a look that I had a feeling was going to be especially reserved for him from now on. “First of all, tell me your mouth-mint is not covered with Hubba Bubba.”

“No, Bergman took it after you guys got Lung.”

“Okay, then I’ll tell you Bergman is not walking straight from here to the airport. He’s going back to the RV to pack. He may even sleep there if he can’t get a flight out tonight. So follow him back and ask him to make you a gun that you promise you will pay for. No. Wait.” I grabbed his arm before he could move away. Something had moved between my shoulder blades, a feeling between a tingle and a pain. “I don’t think you have that kind of time. Something’s coming and it’s not a vamp. It’s just a feeling, one I’ve never had before, but Vayl said I should open myself up to these things.”

“There is a bandstand just up the hill,” Vayl told him. “Take cover there.”

Cole nodded and quickly moved away.

“You too, Vayl,” I suggested. “Whatever it is, I don’t think we want news of a scaled vamp to get out, at least not until we know what we want the story to say.”

“Very well,” he said, gliding uphill with remarkable grace for one so new to the armor. He should’ve shone like starlight, but I could feel him using his power of camouflage to make himself seem to disappear.

I went to the gazebo, not inside, just to the doorway, and gazed down at somebody’s daughter. Somebody’s wife. Pitifully dead woman with her body ripped open. I wanted so bad just to cover her. But that wasn’t what she needed now.

“Pengfei Yan, shouldn’t you be on the yacht?” Desmond Yale asked as he emerged from the shadows.

Holy crap, it’s the reaver!I slipped the medallion over my head as he closed the distance between us, praying he couldn’t see in the dark as well as I could. At least he was speaking English. He came into the three-foot zone to get a good look at me. “You look roasted, toasted, beaten, and battered. What happened?”

I wanted to run to the nearest Renaissance Faire, grab a really nice breastplate, and strap it over my chest. Barring that option, I crossed my arms. “Chien-Lung began to have his own ideas about our revolution. I had to teach him a lesson. What are you doing here?”

He spread his hands out in front of himself, palms up, a big gold ring flashing on the first finger of his left hand. “Did you plant the charges as I instructed? And the evidence implicating the religious fanatics?”

Right on cue the air wentBOOM! and the ground shook. Yale’s icy-blue eyes hardened so sharply he could’ve sunk every boat in the marina just by looking at them. “Where are the dead, Pengfei Yan? I sense not a single casualty.”

“The police found out somehow,” I whispered. “They got all the people to safety.” Time had strung way out this evening, like a ribbon of taffy that just keeps winding. I could’ve sworn the hit on Pengfei, the search for Lai and Lung, not to mention the battle and its aftermath had lasted a couple of lifetimes. Nope. Fifteen minutes, start to finish.

“What use are you, Vampire?” Yale demanded. “You brag of your awesome powers of concealment, and yet these myopic little godspawn outmaneuver you.” He stepped toward me. Looming. Threatening. “I want my souls!”

“I guess I’m just going to have to owe you.”

He stopped. Took a second to think. “Yes, and I have just the debt in mind.”

“You do?”

“Her name is Lucille Robinson.”

“Go on.”

“I want you to kill her.”

He’s waiting for you to say something. So say something! Wait, don’t swear. Don’t call him an asshole. Okay, go ahead.“And tell me why I have to do your dirty work for you?”

He sighed with disgust. “Reavers cannot kill unless their victims have been Marked and paid for, or unless they can prove self-defense. Why do you keep making me say that?”

“Because I know it pisses you off?”

“I despise rules.”

“You know I never do anything unless there is some advantage to me,” I said.

Yale fixed me with that yellow glare. It was like looking into the eyes of a python. “The woman, Lucille’s, Spirit Eye is beginning to open.”

Spirit Eye . . . what the hell is that? It just can’t be good. Not even if it’s bad for reavers. What if it’s in the middle of my forehead, like theirs? Eeew!My hand itched to travel up my face and feel the familiar lines that creased my brow whenever I frowned. Would there be a new one with an eyeball underneath? The thought made me want to gag.Okay, get a grip. You’re working. Freak out on your own time .

I said, “How should that affect my plans?”

“It already has. She can see the weakness in the young ones’ shields. She has killed two of them, including Wu, who I’d placed aboard your yacht just today.” He jabbed a finger at me as if it was my fault. Which, of course, it was. Speaking of shields, I couldn’t see his. Not at all. The medallion was working for, and against me, once again.

“Are you sure it was her? Perhaps—”

“I am sure. I do not know the source of her power, but she is beginning to See, Pengfei. And when her Eye fully opens, she will also begin to Know. After that none of us will find life as easy or as lengthy as before. Do you understand?”

Though I didn’t understand, I nodded, because I figured I was supposed to. I said, “Tell me how to find her.”

“Lure her to you. She will not be able to resist the chase once you have killed the woman she was with the day I met her.”

“Do you know where to find this woman?”

“Her name is Cassandra. The cab company picked her up at this location. I believe she is one of the entertainers.”

“Oh my God, was that cool or what?” The voice belonged to a young guy, coming this way by the sound of it.

“You have got to be the king of first dates!” Sweet-sounding girl. Cruising for a make-out spot?Go away!

Yale’s eyes glowed as he nodded at me and licked his lips with the tip of that grisly pink tongue.

“There they are,” he whispered to me. “The boy has been Marked by his ex-girlfriend. I was going to share him with Wu, but given the circumstances, why don’t I treat you to dessert?”

Aw, hell. Could thisbeworse timing ?

Yale pulled aside a flap on the right leg of his sleek leather pants that hid a long, slender sword. I used his momentary distraction to draw Grief. Taking a deep breath, I yelled, “Get lost, kids! There’s a maniac with a sword over here!” Girly scream and sounds of running feet. Apparently they’d seen some horror flicks recently and knew better than to come exploring. Good for them.

Yale, having seen his share of battles, didn’t stay surprised long. Still, I had time to nail him with every bit of ammunition Grief held. Bullets. Bolts. They backed him up, gave me room to kick in the only blade left on me worth using. Vayl’s.

I twisted the blue jewel at the hilt, launching the carved sheath at the reaver. It hit him in the throat.Dammit, he didn’t even grunt! Hoping to score some intimidation points, I came at him fast and figured out quick that I’d discovered his niche. Only my age and training prevented him from transforming me into a Jaz-kebob right then and there.

Clearly he’d been parrying and riposting since long before my Granny’s gran was a baby.My techniques, all learned at the knees of my martial arts teachers, barely kept their feet under his concerted attacks. Even if I lucked out and squeaked in an offensive move here or there, I didn’t know where to direct them because . . .the medallion’s still blocking my view of the shield. Take the damn thing off, Jaz!

God, he could wield that blade. Was it actually coming faster or was I just getting worse?

I grabbed the chain around my neck and yanked. “Ow!” Chains always break easily in movies. This one may have caused minor whiplash. But that was fine and dandy, because suddenly I understood about the Spirit Eye.

As I parried a slash that saved a good part of my forearm I noted the heat in Cirilai. Even for those few minutes I had felt disturbingly incomplete without it. Its increased warmth assured me Vayl was on his way. I just needed to survive.

But maybe I could do more.

Yale’s shield showed plainly against the backdrop of the shoreline, no longer a single color now, but deep velvety black with lighter areas of purple and blue where I’d hit him and, theoretically at least, weakened his resistance. It didn’t waver the way the first two reavers’ had, however. Not encouraging when sliding a weapon in those breaks was the only way I’d found to kill them.

He fought purely as a swordsman, and it took all my concentration to keep him from slicing and dicing me like a sack of Idaho russets. But I wasn’t beneath throwing in a kick or a punch when I could manage them. It felt like connecting with an old freezer, but the shield lightened in those spots too.

I kept moving, trying not to let him back me into the water where I’d be trapped. But with all my attention on that swift, sharp sword of his, I had none left for footing. I stepped into one of the craters left by Lung’s explosive spikes and went down, the breath bursting from my lungs so utterly I lay there gasping like an asthmatic.

Yale grinned, the tip of his tongue wagging free as he swung his sword in a long arc, meaning to split me wide open. I rolled clear, the blade slicing the point where my throat had been seconds earlier. Just as quickly I spun back, using the trick he’d pulled on me at Sustenance to catch him behind the knee. Already somewhat off balance, he fell easily.

LOOK,Raoul’s voice boomed in my head, focusing that part of me that saw beyond color and form into the realm ofother . What Yale had called my Spirit Eye. To keep myself from freaking further about the eyeball-in-the-forehead possibility, I imagined it as a lovely, azure blue, long-lashed orb floating above my head, slowly waking to a new, bigger reality.

Just now it saw ratty Jaz and stunned Yale lying on the ground mere yards from a gazebo containing a badly mutilated corpse. Yale moved better than Jaz, which did not bode well for her future health. Especially since his shield, while wearing the purples, blues, and even yellows of a bad bruise, still seemed wholly intact. However, a ridge in the middle of his forehead was rimmed in bright, glowing red like a big, circular target.

Huh.

Snapping back to myself, I bear crawled over to Yale, grabbed him by the shoulders, and head-butted him so hard that for a second my regular vision completely winked out. It returned just as Yale staggered to his feet and retrieved his sword. Spurt of fear as I realized I didn’t know where my weapons had gone. In fact, the last thirty seconds were kinda hazy. I put my hand to my forehead and felt the bump.

OH MY GOD, IAMGETTING A THIRD EYE! The fear woke me right up. Nope, probably just a slight concussion from the skull tackle. What a relief.

That delay had allowed Yale to formulate his next plan of attack. He came at me, swinging his sword in a circle as if to take my head off. But his pace, slow and unsteady, gave me the time to duck and scramble away.

I lost my balance and fell from trying to move too fast with a battered brain. But it worked out for the best. When I crawled across something hard and sharp I realized I’d found Vayl’s sword. What luck! Maybe my knee wouldn’t feel the same later on. But it’s really all about perspective.

I meant to jump to my feet and wade into the battle, but the dizzies returned, so it became more of a wide-footed waddle. How I was going to defend my life, much less defeat the reaver, I wasn’t sure. He walked toward me, his expression changing from caution to confidence with each step. He swung once, twice, three times, and each time I barely saved my neck. The fourth time a large, glittering arm intervened. Yale’s sword wentclack and stopped dead. We both stared at it in confusion. We looked up. I smiled. “Hi, Vayl.”

“I am sorry it took me so long to get back down the hill,” he said. “I believe your transmitter has fallen off, and Cirilai did not warn me of your danger until just now.”

I looked at Yale. “My boss is here now. You are in such trouble.” I looked back to Vayl. “That is so not something I would usually say. I think I have brain damage. That son of a bitch has a hard head.”

Vayl nodded. “Shall I dispatch him for you?”

I smiled again. “Sometimes you are so eighteenth century.”

Yale finally got tired of the patter. With a growl, he withdrew his sword. But he came back fast, his attacks a blur of motion that Vayl met with a backhanded blow that flipped him completely over and landed him flat on his back, where he lay, wheezing.

“Get up, Reaver,” said Vayl. “Myavhar wants vengeance for that woman you killed and I mean to get it for her, even if it takes all night.”

Yale struggled to his feet. Despite the fall, his shield held firm. He could probably fight all night as well. And on into the morning.

Except he also had an enormous bump on the forehead. It looked about as painful as mine felt. Now, what was the deal with that, really? I’d shot the guy multiple times and it hadn’t even stained his pretty plaid shirt. But knock him in the noggin and he’s gonna need an ice pack for the next twenty-four. Why was that?

Because it’s nothiseye, my mind whispered.Remember the Enkykliosmovie? When the reaver gave up that soul, he had to take some poor woman’s eye to replace the one he’d lost. If it’s not part of him, maybe it’s not protected as well. Maybe it’s his weak spot.

“Go for the forehead, Vayl!” I yelled. “That’s his Achilles’ heel!” I stopped. Okay, was that just the stupidest thing I’d ever said? The jury didn’t have time to weigh in because Desmond Yale chose that moment to make a run for it.

Vayl started after him, but he was slow in this form. Slower even than me. “Dammit, he is going to get away!”

I said, “I think I can track him, just like Pengfei. But we need some wheels!”

Vayl started listing possibilities. “RV. Mopeds. Taxi. Commandeer a vehicle.”

“Cole!” I yelled.

“Yeah!” I could see him running toward us down the hill, dodging craters like a ski-less moguls pro.

“Call Jericho! We need wheels at the RV, now!” I turned to Vayl. “Does that work for you?”

“As long as it happens quickly.”

“Agreed.” We ran to the RV. Vayl waited outside for our ride while I went in to change. A headache that promised to build to massive had replaced my dizziness, so I called for a couple of Advil on my way to the bedroom. Within five minutes I’d ripped off the dress, donned blue jeans, a burgundy sweater, and my black leather jacket, reloaded Grief, stuck a spare clip in my pocket, slipped my muddy feet into Cassandra’s blister-builders, and promised to buy her a new pair.

“Jericho’s here!” Cole yelled from the front of the RV. I ran forward, my feet already aching. I passed Bergman, who’d paused in his packing and stacking to get the lowdown from Cole as he stood in the open doorway.

“I know you’re in a hurry to leave,” I told Miles as I passed him, “and I don’t blame you. In fact, I commend you. But Vayl is still stuck inside that armor. If you happen to think of anything he might try that will allow him to lose it before dawn, let us know, will ya?”

Bergman nodded. I took the pills and a glass of water from Cassandra, who gave me an I-wish-I-could-help look. “Stay inside,” I told her. “The reaver has targeted you as a way to get to me.” If I was lucky, by the time I returned she would have joined Bergman in the exodus.

I sped through the near empty streets of Corpus Christi on a hot, red Kawasaki Ninja 250. Jericho’s personal ride. Vayl sat behind me, one arm wrapped tightly around my waist. I could no longer feel my back, and my teeth were starting to chatter. Otherwise, I felt fine. Beautiful motorcycles will do that to me.

“We’re getting close,” I told Vayl through the mike. When Cole had discovered we’d be on two wheels rather than four, he’d pulled our helmets from the trailer. They went much better with this bike than the mopeds. He followed us with Jericho and the three cops he could round up in a sleek black dual cab 4×4. I didn’t think their presence was necessary or even smart. But I didn’t have time to argue. And frankly, if I owned the bike I presently rode, I’d be keeping a close eye on it myself.

The reaver’s scent pulled me past classic Southwestern buildings dressed in rich earth tones that abutted glass and steel high-rises. Even complemented by row after row of stately palm trees, the mix bewildered me. There seemed to be no transition between present and past here, nothing to keep the city from somehow cracking as it tried to assume far too many personalities. Then I saw theothers . Vampires mostly, the kind who want to blend. But my new senses told me they weren’t alone. I wanted some confirmation though.

“Vayl, ask Cole what he’s sensing.”

Vayl obliged, and moments later he relayed the news. “Cole notes an abundance of witches, weres of some sort, though he is not sure exactly what. And he believes those two lovely women we just passed are nereids.” I glanced into the rearview. Wow. When you knew what to look for, it made sense. Those two ultratall silver-haired girls obviously spent more time swimming the ocean than they did pounding the pavement.

The streets of Corpus Christi weren’t all that different from those of Chicago or New York or L.A. after all. They seethed with magic. Power. Creatures who could remember when horses drew wagons full of settlers down their muddied lengths. Maybe that’s what keeps any city from blowing sky high.

Two blocks later we saw the reaver, a single dark blur running down the center of a two-lane avenue. Traffic was so light he’d probably only freaked out a couple of drivers with his antics so far. Make that three.

The light turned red and Yale wrenched open the door of a silver Pontiac Grand Prix. Out flew the driver, a kid who couldn’t have had his license over a week. In went Yale. The tires squealed, the kid shook his fists, and off we went, chasing the reaver deep into the heart of the city.

“Do you think he has any idea where he is going?” asked Vayl.

“I don’t even think he knows what he’s doing,” I replied. Yale looked to be one of those old-school demons who lets somebody else do the driving while he sits in the back and does open-torso surgery on the innocents. The car fishtailed like the right rear was losing air and we hadn’t even taken a turn yet.

But Yale did have a plan after all. Crashing the Pontiac into the concrete barrier that kept the steep hill to our left from falling down onto the roadway probably wasn’t part of it, but it did stop the car. He jumped out of the vehicle and onto the barrier like a cross-country runner and began slogging up the hill.

I pulled up right behind him, Cole and his truck full of SWAT men hard on my tail. But as soon as my feet hit the pavement I knew we were outnumbered. Outgunned. Out of our minds to even think of climbing that mound. Underneath this road, that grass, a million fiends writhed in their unending tortuous dance. Like the women at a Little Italy festival, they bounced round and round an enormous vat, their hooves pounding relentlessly on the souls of their victims, turning them into Satan’s wine.

“I would make a terrible merlot,” I muttered.

“What did you say?” asked Vayl as he dismounted with a heartfelt groan. I didn’t reply. Something was stuck in my throat. If I was a guy, I’d have sworn they were my testicles.

I looked up as I set the kickstand. On top of that slope stood an abandoned church. Its steeple still stood intact, though part of the roof had caved and all the windows had been boarded up. Though I swung my leg over the bike, it moved slowly, because it was hardwired to that part of my brain that insisted we’d found hell’s front porch and we needed to RUN!

“Vayl,” I gasped. “Do you feel it?”

“Yes,” he murmured. “It seems as if the road is filled with flesh-eating beetles, although my eyes insist we are fine.”

Behind us the guys were having even more trouble. Cole had made it out of the truck and was struggling toward us as if the asphalt was sucking at his shoes. The SWAT men, bereft of any form of protective powers, shared the narrow-eyed, tight-lipped look of soldiers who would turn and run but for their love of and loyalty to one another.

Jericho had brought what looked like the cream of the crop. A wiry, gray-headed gentleman carrying a Remington SPS Varmint sniper rifle nodded and introduced himself as Sergeant Betts. Corporal Fentimore had apparently not been satisfied with his original collection of muscles and decided to build himself a complete extra set on top of them. He and his barrel-chested, broad-shouldered buddy, who said shortly, “Call me Rand,” were both armed with SIG-551s. These men were cut from the same cloth as my brother, and my father in his prime. Just looking at them, you felt you couldn’t shake them with a mortar. And yet they danced from foot to foot like sprinters at the start line.

Which was when I realized the place was spelled. I hadn’t grasped it right away because the magic was so big. It had stunned my Sensitivity the same way your brain goes into overload when you first walk into an art museum. Until you step back and convince it to take one thing at a time, you never see a single picture.

I dumped my helmet and helped Vayl off with his. Cole had joined us by then. “There’s some kind of expellation spell on this hill,” I told them all. “What you’re feeling isn’t real.” And just knowing that, all of us would be able to function a helluva lot better.

“What about them?” asked Jericho, nodding toward the hill.

I looked over my shoulder. A line of dark shapes was pouring out of the desecrated church.Shit! “Those are a different story.”

CHAPTERTHIRTY-SIX

Half of Hell Hill stood between us and Desmond Yale. He’d made good time, but too, he’d already been running a while and the wear and tear on his earthly body had taken its toll. His knees kept buckling, forcing him to the ground every few steps. His tongue hung out like a hound dog’s, and blood seeped from the weakened parts of his shield. That was the good news.

Evidently he’d found himself a little cult of well-armed humans to guard his exit. Well, I’d known he was a canny old demon. I should’ve figured he had an escape plan.

His acolytes had taken cover behind an abandoned minibus that hadOUR LORD’S MISSION OF CORPUS CHRISTI painted on its side, and were firing down on us while Yale moved toward them. They didn’t seem to be able to shoot worth a damn, but then they had an enormous advantage in terrain. All they really needed to do was keep up a steady barrage while Yale struggled the rest of the way up the hill and he’d be completely out of our hands.

As soon as Yale’s gang had opened up on us, we’d taken cover behind the four-foot-high concrete barrier at the base of the hill to figure out our next move. Also to keep from getting our heads blown off. Even idiots get lucky once in a while.

“Jericho, you got anything available in the form of air support?” I asked.

“On its way,” he told me, pocketing his phone, “but probably not in time for us to catch the old guy.”

“Dammit!” I pressed my back to the barrier and traded glares with Vayl. I wasn’t sure which of us was more pissed. To come this close and lose. Neither of us cared to do that. We had to get up that hill, and fast!

“The armor makes me nearly bulletproof,” he reminded me. “But it slows me too much. I am afraid one of those nitwit gunmen would put a bullet through my brain before I could reach him.” He motioned to the part of his head Chien-Lung’s breath had cleared of ice. Though a gunshot wound wouldn’t kill him, it would knock Vayl out of the game, and we couldn’t afford that at this point.

Come on, Jaz, look around you. What are your tools? What can speed you up that hill without dying before you have a chance to take out the monster?

“Jericho, you guys got a ramp in the back of that truck?”

He nodded. “We need some way to get the ATV out to the sticks.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear. Vayl, how’s your dexterity?” He flexed his hands. He could only close them halfway, but that should be more than enough.

Funny how just knowing somebody’s got even the first part of a plan will galvanize everybody else on a team. While Fentimore and Rand used their SIGs to keep the reaver gang from totally controlling the field, the rest of us assembled the ramp. We had to do some adjusting, but when we were done it sat firmly against the concrete barrier. If the highway department were so inclined they could drive their tractors right up the thing, mow the hill, and then motor back down without a hitch. I had a slightly different plan.

“So,” said Jericho as I climbed into an old suit of body armor someone had thrown behind the driver’s seat of his truck, “you’re going to turn Evel Knievel on us?”

From our current vantage point, crouched by the 4×4’s front tire, we gazed first at the ramp, then at his precious cycle. “It’s going to be a steep little jump,” I told him. “But we’ll give ourselves plenty of room to build up speed. And we’ve got to get wheels on that hill. Nothing else is going to catch our reaver. Unless you can think of a better, faster way?”

As Jericho pondered the possibilities, my armor began to press down on me. Hard. So of course that was the moment my motherboard decided to do a short internal scan, throw up its hands, and screech, “Dear Lawd, a VAMPIRE has taken mah blood!” and initiate a general shutdown. I took a seat on the nearest flat surface—the truck’s running board.

“You all right?” asked Jericho. Cole, squatting by the back tire as he helped Vayl on with his helmet, gave me a worried look.

“I’m fine,” I said, pulling on my own helmet before my pallor could betray me. This was the immediate price I paid for increased Sensitivity. I had a feeling there would be long-term implications as well, but now was no time to obsess.

Problem was, once that cushioned Kevlar dome encased my head, not even the pinging of badly aimed bullets could distract me from the bone-chilling realization that, this time, I just might have bitten off one that would choke me blue.

I leaned back, banging my head against the door. “Goddammit!”

“What is it?” Vayl asked.

Since I didn’t want to discuss my current need to roll up in my blanky and snooze for a week, I risked a look through the window. “Yale has reached the top of the hill.” He was leaning over, both hands on his knees, puffing like an overweight smoker. Sergeant Betts hit him and he went down.

“Yes!” Betts shook his head in disbelief as Yale got back up. “What the hell?”

“Middle of the forehead, boys!” I yelled. But they couldn’t hear me. As if it would do any good. Yale would never turn toward us. Not willingly.

Vayl had mounted Jericho’s Ninja and started it up. He drove it over to me and Cole helped me on. “Aren’t we just a pair of lightweights?” I told Vayl as he gunned the engine, driving us across the street and into the lot of a rundown gas station.

“We would be if we were on the moon,” he replied, which somehow struck me funny. I laughed, and hoped to God Jericho’s tires were fully inflated.

I looked up the hill. As if on cue, Yale opened up another secret compartment in those dandy leather pants of his. I’d have made some smart-ass comment about setting up the reaver’s tailor with Mistress Kiss My Ass, but then he pulled out a plastic bag. The dark red organ inside seemed to squirm, as if trying to escape its fate.

“Oh my God.” I wanted so badly to look away. Save that little bit of myself that still thought it wasn’t a complete waste to wish upon a star and that Santa Claus was a dandy old dude, even if parents had to do the heavy lifting for him. But part of my job required me to be a witness. You couldn’t aim true if you kept closing your eyes.

Yale launched the heart, splattering it against the side of the defiled church, releasing a rain of blood that slowly built itself into a door. Just as it began to throb, Vayl hit the gas.

I clutched him around the middle, thankful for the sudden spurt of adrenaline that allowed me to hold on. We shot toward the ramp like a couple of stunt junkies, hit that puppy right in the sweet spot, and jumped the barrier so clean you could’ve driven a semi underneath us as we flew up the hill.

If my bladder hadn’t been empty I might have peed myself as Vayl nearly lost the front wheel on our landing. We swerved so far to the right I smelled earthworms, then overcorrected so badly to the left my calf spent a long moment pinned between the grass and the muffler. The heat burned completely through my jeans and left a blistering souvenir on my skin. Only Vayl’s vampire strength saved that bike—and us—from major wreckage.

Halfway up the hill a couple of bullets zinged off Vayl’s armor, but they stopped when I pulled Grief and returned fire. It’s tough to hit your target when you’re accelerating up a bumpy incline, but I got close enough and my backup shooters were doing their jobs so well, the reaver gang decided maybe they should keep their heads down for a while.

We motored toward Yale, quickly regaining the ground we’d lost at the bottom of the hill.

“This is going to be close,” Vayl said.

Yale had nearly reached the door. It had begun to open. Unearthly light, black and razor sharp, like the kind that shielded him, gaped through the crack.

I took aim at Yale, trying to steady my hand though it was like balancing a marble on a bowling ball. I squeezed off a shot. It pinged off Yale’s temple. He staggered and fell to his knees. Without even trying to get up, he crawled toward the door, lunging for it when he finally came close enough. It opened farther and he wrapped his fingers around the edge, giving it a helpful tug.

Vayl drove the Ninja right over the top of Yale’s legs, forcing a scream from him that made bats fly out the church’s chimney. We both rolled off as Vayl ditched the bike. I struggled to rise, but something punched me in the back so hard I thought for a second my lung was going to come flying out of my chest. I keeled over onto my face, realizing instantly that I’d been shot. The body armor had done its job, but it still hurt like hell.

“You son of a bitch!” I looked up.Is that Cole’s voice? Oh, can I have a big amen! He’d found a gully running up the west edge of the hill. I could see it from here, though it hadn’t been visible from our original vantage point. He’d made good progress, though he was still positioned probably fifty yards below us. I saw a flash from the muzzle of his gun and heard the scream of a dying man. Cole had brought his own rifle with him.

“Jasmine! Some help, please!” called Vayl.

Another boom from Cole’s gun and another scream let me know it was time to get a move on. I scrambled to Vayl’s side. He seemed to have entered a tug-o-war match. Clawed, bony fingers the color of raw, sunburned skin had wrapped around Yale’s wrists and were trying to pull him through a crack that had widened in the doorway. Yale himself had dug a small trench in the ground with his boots in his efforts to break free of Vayl’s hold.

Vayl had him around the middle, but with a grip composed mainly of ice he found it nearly impossible to maintain his grasp. He kept having to reanchor himself, and every time he did, Yale gained ground. Before I had a chance to take aim, Yale’s accomplice pulled hard enough to get his head behind the door.

“We have to pull him out!” said Vayl. “Grab on!”

I latched on to those old man legs and yanked, eliciting a scream from their owner that told me the cycle had done some damage. Good. I kept pulling, and with Vayl’s help we got Yale’s head back into target range. But as soon as I let go to take the shot, Vayl lost his grip.

“Goddammit! I am so freaking tired of this shit!” I yelled as I took hold of the calves above the cowboy boots I’d once admired and heaved to. “I’ve been shot and stabbed and burned on this mission! I’m so freaking worn out I could sleep through a nuclear explosion, and I have just realized I’m going to have to kill yetmore of Samos’s underlings before I finally work my way up to him. I am so pissed off!” I gave one last big jerk and fell on my back.

I’d just struggled to my knees when Vayl said, “I see the third eye!”

“Well, what the hell do you wantme to do about it!” I bitched. “If I let go he’s just going to slide back in!”

“Well,somebody has to shoot him!” Vayl growled.

The thunder of Cole’s gun drowned out my reply.

The legs in my hands went limp. I turned to look. Cole’s shot had been right on target. The reaver died where he laid, his fingers still curled around the edge of the door. And out of that blasted third eye emerged a lovely magenta soul that flew off into the night like a comet.

Vayl and I both moved back. I trained Grief on the spot where the reaver gang had holed up, but the ones who’d survived had scattered as soon as Yale passed.

The clawed hands continued to pull Yale’s body through the doorway, and as his feet crossed the threshold the entire door disappeared with the boom of overhead thunder.

CHAPTERTHIRTY-SEVEN

Cassandra and Bergman met us at the RV door.

“You’re back to yourself!” Bergman said the second Vayl pulled his helmet off.

Vayl nodded wanly. “Apparently I simply needed some quiet time in the aftermath of the battle.”

“Also a towel would’ve been nice,” I added. Although Vayl thought he’d reabsorbed a great deal of the armor, he’d still ended up wringing wet. And since I’d driven us home, that meant I now looked as if a football team had tried to douse me with the Gatorade cooler and only done half the job. The back half.

We’d said our thank-yous and goodbyes to Jericho and the guys at the site, with a promise to return a cleaner, shinier Ninja to Jericho in the morning. The SWAT guys had volunteered to supervise the cleanup since we’d sort of saved the day with the festival. An unusually quiet, introspective Cole had stayed with them.

As if reading my mind—and who knows, maybe she was— Cassandra said, “Where’s Cole?”

“He’ll be back soon,” I said. “He’s with Jericho right now.”

“And?”

“I’m worried about him. He killed a couple of humans and the reaver today. He definitely wasn’t acting like himself when we left.”

“He will be fine,” Vayl said irritably. He sounded almost . . . jealous. His next words confirmed my suspicions. “Why do you never concern yourself for me? The change I underwent has left me exhausted.”

“Dude, you’re immortal. It’s not like you won’t get a second to catch up on your sleep.” Plus, I was feeling deeply drained myself, which left no room for commiseration in my book. Especially not with the vampire who’d sucked Cole into our business in the first place.

Even though I wanted to roll into the RV and hit the bedroom so bad my bones actually ached, I dismounted Jericho’s Ninja with reluctance. I was in love with another man’s bike. It felt like a sin.

Unfortunately Cassandra blocked my way inside. Which was when I finally registered the guilty look she shared with Bergman. He began. “We thought, you know, before you tear us a new one? We wanted to say we’re sorry.”

“Yes,” Cassandra agreed. “It was our fault.”

“Naturally,” I said, though I was at least a chapter behind them.

Cassandra said, “I should have told you that spelled items can inhibit natural Sensitivities, like being able to see the weaknesses in the reaver’s shield. I knew that. But I said nothing because I thought Bergman would make some snide remark about magic. And because of my omission you . . . you could have died.” Tears sprang into her eyes.

“And I should never have let my fears turn me into such an asshole. I . . . don’t want to cut our ties completely. You’re so damn interesting.” Plus, I was one of the only friends he had left. But being a guy, he wasn’t going to go there. “I just, it got so intense. But I’m sorry I let you down.” He looked at Cassandra and she nodded. “We both are.”

It’s so true that the people most likely to kill you are those closest to you.

I crossed my arms over my chest so I wouldn’t be tempted to shake them or maybe bang their heads together. I nearly told them if they wanted to hang out with me they’d better start acting like grown-ups instead of a couple of two-year-olds fighting over the good toys at the day care center. But then my arms started to ache. So did my hands and legs for that matter. I remembered Cassandra’s face when she took me to the hospital, and Bergman’s expression when they found me standing in the bay with the gun he’d built for me pressed against my temple.

I took a deep breath. “I know this mission wasn’t easy for either one of you. You’re both so great at what you do. I mean, you have that passion that is really integral to being exceptional, and so of course you’re going to clash. And yet here you are, doing the hardest part of the work and making a damn good team.” I shrugged. “I forgive you.”

Cassandra clapped her hands once, hard, the way she does when she’s delighted. And Bergman’s eyes shone so bright he had to take off his glasses to keep from blinding himself. They gave each other high fives, which Bergman found painful from the way he rubbed his hand down his thigh afterward, and trooped back into the RV. Within seconds Bergman came back outside with our safe phone. “It’s for you,” he said, handing the cell to Vayl.

“Yes?” Vayl listened for maybe twenty seconds, his eyes darkening as the news filtered through his emotions. “Of course we want this. We will be there in twenty minutes.” He snapped the phone shut. “You had better get changed.”

“Yeah?”

“That was Pete. He said they found the men’s clothing shop you mentioned. The one that had served both Shunyuan Fa and Desmond Yale?”

“Frierman’s? In Reno?”

He nodded. “After about an hour of rather intense interrogation the tailor admitted that Edward Samos has many of his meetings in his shop and that one is scheduled for tonight. Pete has chartered us a plane. We have”—he checked his watch—“eighteen minutes to make it to the airport.”

I went for the door.

“Jasmine?”

I turned back.

“Remember to load your gun.”

CHAPTERTHIRTY-EIGHT

Islept on the plane. The best kind. The healing kind. Deep. Without dreams. Definitely without sleepwalking. Where, when you wake up, you don’t even care if you snored.

Pete had a car waiting for us, one driven by a bright-eyed young pup wearing a black knit hat and matching jogging suit. He offered us both coffee, opened the doors for us, and kept quiet while he sped us through the neon-lit streets of Reno. We parked on the street. Frierman’s was small, but it still managed a luxurious feel. I attributed it mostly to the black tuxedos hanging in the windows, backed by red velvet curtains and lit by sparkling chandeliers.

“You’re cleared to go in,” the driver volunteered, holding up the paperwork so we could see.

I could’ve said, “Sweetie, my boss would never go to the expense of flying us anywhere if he wasn’t sure we could make it through the door once we landed.” Instead I nodded and followed Vayl out of the car.

The driver went around back, ostensibly to block the exit should anybody at the meeting decide to make a break for it. But as soon as we stepped into the alcove created by the recessed doorway I had a feeling running wouldn’t be a problem.

“I don’t sense any vampires in the vicinity besides you,” I whispered to Vayl as I worked the lock. It didn’t stop me long. I wore a necklace, compliments of Bergman, whose shark-tooth centerpiece could mold itself into any key, given a couple of seconds. “In fact, I don’t sense anyothers at all.”

“And the only strong human emotion I am picking up on is our driver’s,” Vayl said. “He is quite excited about this whole event.”

“Huh.” I’d caught that too. Annoying. Mostly because he was about my age and yet he made me feelold .

We inched inside the store, skirted racks of trousers and dress shirts, made our way to the back of the retail area, where shelves of shoes guarded a door whose sign warned us we’d better be employees if we wanted to go any farther. We went anyway. But only to the other side.

The sight and smell that hit us when we entered the back room stopped us after only a couple of steps.

“I never would’ve believed such a tiny man could hold so much blood.” I leaned into Vayl, trying not to puke, cry, pass out, or swear. It was easier than it should’ve been.

Morty Frierman had been hung from a ceiling joist with a noose made from his own measuring tape. Then someone—Samos, you sick, twisted bastard, I cannot wait until the day I end your fiendish existence—had ripped him open reaver style. It looked to me like all his parts were still intact, so I kinda thought Samos had just learned a new trick from that old dog Yale.

Our phone buzzed against my thigh. I went outside to answer it. “Yeah?”

“Jasmine? It’s Cassandra.”

“What’s up?”

“Cole came back.” Long silence while I decided things did not bode well back at the home place.

“What’s he up to?”

“He’s been very . . . professional.” Okay, that in itself was just weird. “He didn’t say anything about what happened while he was gone. But, of course, he had told Jericho about the massacre on theConstance Malloy . So he began talking about how Jericho’s people had boarded the yacht and begun detaining generals and recovering bodies. Then, without even calling Pete, Cole decided he should be the CIA’s liaison in that matter, so he ran off to watch. And just before he left he said, ‘Oh, by the way Cassandra, Jericho said to tell you he probably wouldn’t get a chance to see you again, so goodbye.’ He was just so cold about it, Jasmine. As if I should grow up and get over it, you know, yesterday.”

Oh boy. My first instinct was to order Cassandra and Bergman to drag Cole off that yacht and dunk his head into the bay until the pompous ass washed right out of him. But I knew this wouldn’t work as a long-term solution to the problem. Which was, in fact, that he had become an assassin tonight. That he would be doing more killing as time went by. That he would have to find a way to eliminate his targets without breaking off little parts of himself every time he did so.

“Okay, Cassandra, thanks for letting me know. I’ll, uh, I’ll think of something.”

Vayl came outside. “Problems back in Texas?”

“Yeah. I’ll tell you on the way. We’re done in there, right?”

“I believe we have found everything we could. We will let the specialists deal with the rest.”

“Then let’s get back. Cole is reacting badly to his first kill and the two people who should be walking him through the aftermath aren’t there.”

“What is it you think we can do for him?” Vayl demanded, his voice as hard as the cane at his side.

“Could you just drop the whole misplaced-jealousy gig? When I’m ready to jump into the sack with someone, I guarantee it’s not going to be a guy who chews bubble gum and wears high-tops with his suits.”

Vayl didn’t exactly swoop in on me, but it suddenly felt like we’d just finished a dance, that’s how close we stood. I forgot to breathe as he held my gaze. “What kind of man will it be?” he asked softly, his eyes the pure, blazing green I’d begun to equate with these supercharged moments.

For the first time I was certain of the answer. And that realization gave me the confidence to go up on tiptoe, bring my mouth to within an inch of his, and whisper, “One who doesn’t piss me off with too many questions.” I backed off a step and hid a grin as Vayl raised his head. A vamp that old, I don’t suppose you get to see them speechless too often. So I enjoyed the moment. It ended when our driver came around the corner.

“Come on,” I said to Vayl as he pulled up to the curb. “We’ve got one last mission to accomplish before dawn.”

CHAPTERTHIRTY-NINE

Vayl and I spent most of our trip back to Corpus Christi on the phone, reporting to and getting reports from our Reno contacts, from Pete, and from Jericho Preston. By the time we reached the RV we’d tied up as many of our loose ends as we could. Which meant we could focus on Cole.

It wasn’t tough to get him off theConstance Malloy . I just mentioned the problem to Jericho during our last call and he sent Cole back home. He was making coffee when Vayl and I walked in. When it began percolating I said, “Cole, we need to make a rather elaborate plan, which cannot even begin without the aid of some major bubble blowing. Gum, please.”

Bergman and Cassandra had each commandeered a twin and were watching Cole with an air of tense frustration, like parents who can’t seem to get their thick-skulled teen to listen to reason. Without quite knowing what I was about, they gave me their attention while Cole dipped into his stash. Accompanied by the scent of Dubble Bubble and the steadily increasing interest and input of the object of our concern, our plans were made and carried out like clockwork.

I admit we nearly got caught, because we were giggling like maniacs throughout the whole exercise. (Okay, Vayl wasn’t even smiling at first. But once we convinced him we had the higher moral ground, even if it was only by an inch, he at least showed occasional signs of fang). But it was good for us, Cole especially, to imagine the faces of theothers- are-not-our-brothers protesters when they discovered Lung’s and Pengfei’s coffins hooked to the bumper of their hate-crimes van in the morning withJUST BURIED spray painted in big white letters across the lids. We made it back to the RV with just enough time for Vayl to stagger to the bedroom, pop up his tent, and crawl inside. Such a silly exercise. But it had helped Cole shed his shell and rediscover his hilarious old soul.

Mission accomplished.

CHAPTERFORTY

Cole, Cassandra, Bergman, and I stood outside the RV, watching dawn break over the city.

Cole took a sip of his coffee. “I don’t get why you’re so relaxed, Jaz,” he said. “I mean, you thought you had Samos nailed last night. But he slipped through your fingers again. I haven’t known you long, but I’m thinking, typically, you’d be gnashing your teeth and pulling your hair out.” He looked to Bergman for confirmation.

“Oh, yeah,” Miles said. “One time, in college, she got so mad after our apartment was burglarized that she smashed her fist through the bathroom door.”

“I did find that guy,” I reminded Bergman.

He nodded. “She got all our stuff back and made him replace the door too.”

“So what’s the deal?” asked Cole.

“I’m curious as well,” said Cassandra. “You told us the Reno crime scene investigators found no fingerprints. No sources of DNA. No scientific proof that Samos killed Morty Frierman. So why are you so tranquil?”

“Because I came away from Frierman’s with the goods on that son of a bitch,” I told them, feeling a grin spread across my face and not minding a bit if it looked slightly evil. “I discovered something that will allow me to pick Samos out of a crowd. Given the time, and opportunity, it’ll lead me straight to him. And then Vayl and I will take him down.”

“So what did you bring home from Reno?” Cole asked.

I wanted to chuckle and rub my hands together. But under the circumstances that seemed too maniacal, so I just took a sip from my mug and said, “The scent of a vampire.”

Acknowledgments

Thanks to everyone who helped make this work the best it could possibly be: My editor, Devi Pillai; my agent, Laurie McLean; Bob Castillo; Alex Lencicki; Penina Lopez; Katherine Molina; Gabriella Nemeth; and all the folks at Orbit whose kindness, creativity, and professionalism I appreciate and admire. I’d also like to thank my readers Laurie McLean, Hank Graves, Hope Dennis, Erin Pringle, Jeremy Toungate, and Katie Rardin for taking the time to review the manuscript. Your feedback is pure gold. As for you, Reader, thanks for coming. Whether it was a return trip or a first outing, I hope you enjoyed the ride!

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Meet the Author

Jennifer Rardinbegan writing at the age of twelve, mostly poems to amuse her classmates and short stories featuring her best friends as the heroines. She lives in an old farmhouse in Illinois with her husband and two children. Find out more about Jennifer Rardin at www.JenniferRardin.com.

Introducing

If you enjoyed ANOTHER ONE BITES THE DUST,

look out for

BITING THE BULLET

Book 3 of the Jaz Parks series

by Jennifer Rardin

The reavers rolled into us, firing seemingly at random. But there was a method to their madness. Reavers operate by strict rules. I didn’t know what the punishments entailed, but they must’ve been extreme, because even the old gnarly ones wouldn’t break them. The main no-no revolved around killing. Reavers were only allowed to eliminate people who’d been marked for murder. In other words, me. Everybody else had to survive. So while the reavers had to take me out, they only wanted to take everybody else down.

What they didn’t count on was the supreme skill and professionalism of their foes. Though they outnumbered us at least three to one at the start of the attack, within sixty seconds we’d whittled their numbers to fifteen.

Our guys had taken a couple of more hits. One second Otto had been standing beside me, a half-grin on his face, saying, “If I had a wheelbarrow full of dynamite I’d blow these fuckers to Mars.” The next second he lay writhing on the ground, trying not to scream, his hip shattered. As I stood over him, nailing reavers when I had a clear shot, pulling up when I realized I’d just aimed at one of my own, I saw Ricardo drop beneath a mass of monsters. Grace had made little progress toward the truck, and was bleeding heavily from a facial wound. Still, I thought we had them.

Then two more groups appeared, coming from both our flanks. These didn’t have firearms, but we already knew the power of their claws, and several swung swords. Terrence and Ashley fired into them, but they didn’t have the right angle to get more than one or two head shots per burst.

“Everybody to me!” yelled David.

Our guys from the farmhouse joined us and we tried to move forward, but they swarmed us. Terrence went down under a reaver’s claws. Vayl, seeing him fall, took the reaver’s eye with his sword and pulled him to his feet. I holstered Grief and grabbed his machine gun. Switching it to three-round burst mode, I fired into the crowd of reavers coming at me, their tongues lolling in anticipation of tasting my soul.

“Jasmine!” called Vayl. “Keep moving!”

Easier said than done. I inched forward, almost tripped over a body, ducked quickly to avoid a neck-ripping swipe and nearly screamed as the body between my legs lurched to its feet. I managed to mute the scream into a squawk as I jumped back, banging into Cole in my rush to avoid the rising reaver.

“Son of a bitch!” he cried, “I missed!”

“Watch out! Watch out!” I yelled. “The dead are rising!”

All around us the reavers we’d defeated the first time around had rediscovered vertical. Multiple thoughts streaked through my mind simultaneously. Not all of them made sense, but a skilled translator might put them in the following light:

Oh Jesus! Oh crap! Zombies! The Wizard’s a necromancer. He could be around here somewhere, pulling their strings. So I should just run off into the night like some rabid raccoon and hope I luck into him? How stupid is that? Plus it’s not him. It’s probably an apprentice. You know that. It may even be the mole. Is anybody murmuring a spell? How the hell can I tell? We are so outnumbered! Did Ashley just go down? My God, I think the semi is farther away than ever. Is that possible? Oh Jesus, was that Terrence’s leg? Don’t turn your head. I said don’t—never mind. Holy shit, that’s the barrel of a Colt .45 aimed right at your face.

The reaver, a live one, grinned wide enough to show the gap between his front teeth as his finger squeezed the trigger.

“Vayl,” I whispered, my eyes somehow tracking straight to his in my final moment.

“Jasmine!” He lunged toward me, too late. The gun boomed and I went down almost at the same time. Only the horrifying pain I expected never split into my brain. A zombie had tackled me, its puppet-like efforts to take off my head such a welcome relief to point-blank assassination I actually giggled. I know. Inappropriate. That’s pretty much how it always happens with me.

The zombie’s weight left me as Vayl picked it up and threw it at least twenty feet. I took the hand Vayl offered and remembered to grab the SAW as he jerked me upright. Ahead of us Cole lifted Terrence onto his shoulder. Two reavers came at him, one living, one dead. Somehow the zombie missed our guys and clawed the living reaver instead, taking out most of his face. When he turned to us I took out his legs with my machine gun.

“What is it with these zombies?” I asked Vayl. “Not that I’m complaining. But you’d think they’d come from 2,000 year old corpses the way they’re behaving.”

“Maybe their master is new to the art.”

“Huh.”

“Aaaah!” I spun at the sound. The zombie behind me clutched at the gaping hole in his chest. A living reaver had circled back to the farmhouse door. Had taken a bead on me. Somehow the zombie had gotten between the two of us.

I took aim at the zombie. Hesitated. Moved my sites to the reaver. It yelled at the zombie. Clearly telling it to move out of the line of fire. Instead the zombie shambled straight toward the living reaver.What the hell ? I glanced over my shoulder, hoping for some confirmation from Vayl that he’d witnessed this bizarre event as well. He was with Otto, lifting him off the ground. Grace and Ashley were already limping away ahead of them.

I looked back. The zombie had reached the living reaver. Grabbed the gun. Moved clear. I took the shot. The reaver fell dead. I waited for the zombie to make its next move. It hesitated. Appeared to study the gun as if it wasn’t sure what to do with it and, in the process, managed to blow its own head off.

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