Once Bitten, Twice Shy (13 page)

Tangents, ah, I love 'em. Keeps you at a safe distance from painful subjects. But this was one train I needed to keep on track. "Anyway, they came back for us that night, before we had time to regroup. By the next morning the only crew members left breathing were me and my twin. And David only survived because he wasn't there. He was in the hospital, sidelined with two broken ribs from a previous mission."
Jesus
.

"Oh, you can bet I stopped talking to
him
that night. I lost my team, my fiancé, my sister-in-law. And my brother blamed me for all of it. It was
my
crew after all, my responsibility to see they got home safe after every mission." Like a tired, old dam, my throat began to hurt from holding back the torrent of tears that threatened to drown me if I released them. I finished as fast as I could. "So you can see why I can't have a relationship with anyone, especially a nice, normal guy like you. A guy stays with me long enough, he
will
die."

"Unless he's a vampire," said Cole.

Cole stopped my fabricated reply with a raised hand. "I know Vayl's a vamp, Lucille. I can smell it on him."

"You… you're a Sensitive?"

"Yep."

"But… how? I mean, were you born that way, or—" I stopped because he was shaking his head. His own bad memories were beginning to make his palms sweat. He squeezed my hands and faked a smile.

"I was born in New York," he told me, "just outside of Buffalo. Lived there 'til I was six, in an old white farmhouse with an actual barn and a pond out back. My brothers and I were skating on that pond one fine January afternoon when I fell through the ice. I was under the water for fifteen minutes before the firemen fished me out."

"So… you died?"

"Yeah." He was trying to act casual, in case I began to scoff at his life-altering experience. As if I could after what I'd survived.

"Was it… awful?"

He shrugged. "I don't remember. The doctors said kids will do that when an event is too traumatic to bear. I guess it's still too much for me. But afterwards," he leaned forward, eager now he knew I'd listen, "it was like you hear about in church, Lucille. There was a light, and then my grandpa was there waiting for me, and he had my dog, Splinter, with him. It was," his eyes shone, making me smile, "absolutely fabulous."

"And when you came back…"

"I could sense vampires, and other things, that ran in the woods east of my house. Between that and the horror of almost losing me, my parents decided for a new, ice-free scene." His gesture encompassed the whole state when he said, "So here I am."

I nodded, my neck creaking under the weight of this new information. I wanted to ask a dozen more questions, because Cole was the first of my kind I'd ever gotten to talk to like this. But he beat me to it. "So why
did
you let him bite you?" he asked.

My hand flew back to the bandage as if it was magnetized. "That's none of your business."

He took the time to blow an orange bubble and pop it before he said, "No, but it's the price I'm asking if you want me to help you out."

I stared at him, reframing this new picture of him so that it fit with what I'd already seen. "That's very personal," I said.

"I know." Cole dropped his eyes to our intertwined hands, feeling a little guilty, maybe, but not enough to back off. "Tell you what, you give me an honest answer and I'll tell you the real truth about why I'm working for Amanda Assan."

Suddenly I felt like it was my bet in a game of high stakes poker. I looked closely at Cole, trying to interpret his intentions. But his face, usually so much more expressive than Vayl's, gave nothing away. Did he have a straight flush or a pair of twos?

"Okay, Cole," I said, "I'm all in. But if I get my butt kicked on this deal, I'm sharing the pain."

"Fair enough," he said, trying to hide his triumphant little smirk. "So why'd you do it?"

Maybe I could've given him the party line and he'd have bought it. I might've convinced him with the arguments that had swayed Vayl. But people rarely ask me for the truth, and when they do I feel compelled to give it to them.

"Part of me just wanted to know what it was like," I told him. "Part of me wanted to feel that vital, to know that without me, Vayl would have lost more than his life. He'd have lost that navigational beacon that lands him on our side of the wall. Because there's nothing more demonic than a starving vamp. And part of me…"
whoa, this is going to be embarrassing
, "… just wanted to be close, to be connected to somebody else. Like I said, it's been
awhile
."

Cole grinned and brought my hands up to his lips. "Then maybe I have a chance after all."

I rolled my eyes. "Do you
ever
stop?"

He appeared to think about the question. "Not often." His grin said
I'm wicked fun
. "Women are passion, my weakness, and my joy. And you," he kissed my hands again, "are a paragon among them."

"You make me sound like some blue-haired preacher's wife."

His grin twisted, "God forbid."

I took my hands back, settling Cirilai down on my finger from where it had twisted up to my knuckle. "I did my bit. Now tell me why you're working for Amanda Assan."

I thought he'd stall, maybe rearrange the salt and pepper shakers or file the sweeteners by color, but he came right out with it. "I am a P.I. But my specialty is supernatural crime. Amanda's brother, Michael, died six months ago in India. He was traveling with Assan at the time. She thinks
he
might've had something to do with it."

"Just because he was there at the time, or…?"

"It was a combination of things. Assan didn't show much remorse for her brother or sympathy for her. Plus the circumstances of his death were odd, and Assan's explanation came out sounding pretty lame."

"In what way?"

"Michael died of a single stab wound to the heart. The weapon, according to the coroner, was an ancient sword of unknown origin. Assan collects swords. Also, symbols were found burned into the skin around Michael's wound."

"What kind?"

"Magical, as far as I can decipher. But I'm no expert and my sources haven't been able to translate them. I'd draw them for you, but—oh," he caught our waitress's eye and signaled her over. She found him a pen and some paper and left us after we reassured her we didn't need any refills.

While he drew the symbols for me Cole said, "Assan was in India to give a presentation at a conference on reconstructive surgery. He said Michael, who'd also been a plastic surgeon, had wandered off during one of the meetings, and when he still hadn't returned the next morning, Assan reported him missing."

"He waited awhile, didn't he?"

"Yep. And the meeting Michael left was one he'd discussed with Amanda. He'd told her it would make the whole trip worthwhile."

Yeah, the whole deal sounded about as fishy as a tuna factory. The symbols branded into Michael's skin threw me, though. Unless they'd had a radical change of philosophy, the Sons of Paradise despised all forms of magic. And these sure looked like spell glyphs to me. I guess it made their alliance with a vampire a little easier to swallow. But still…

Cole went on. "The icing is that some poor schmuck who thought he needed an early morning jog found a torso on the beach last week. Sharks had swallowed a lot of the evidence, but according to a friend of mine who works homicide, the victim had been murdered. By a single stab wound to the heart. And around that wound—"

"Glyphs," I finished. He nodded. "The same as these?"

"Yep."

"Wonder what Vayl will think of these." I ignored Cole's frown as I studied his drawings. Then it struck me that Vayl had been gone
much
longer than even an arranged absence should take. "Where
is
Vayl?" I asked, peering through the atmospheric gloom. Suddenly the hair on the back of my neck stood up in response to the ripple of power that rolled across the room.

"Did you feel that?" I asked Cole. He nodded, looking grave and a little shaken. I slid out of the booth. I think I said, 'Excuse me,' but I'm not sure. The power called me with an urgency I'd never experienced before. It came from the other side of the restaurant so that's where I headed, followed closely by Cole.

"Vayl?" I whispered, "where are you?"

I smelled it before I felt it, a revolting combination of rotten eggs and ash that lashed my inner senses like a lion tamer's whip. The magic snapped past me, leaving me mentally singed, as if I'd stood too close to a burning soul. At least I knew now Vayl wasn't its source. His power had never made me want to shower in bleach water. This came from an altogether different sort of vampire.

I turned, searching for the vamp's target. I found him almost immediately, a spectacled, balding man in his mid-thirties with the soft face and hands of someone who hires out his yard work. He sat at a table with three other people, presumably his wife and sons. They stared at him in speechless shock as he clawed at his throat, his face turning a shade of red I'd never seen before tonight.

"Charlie? What's wrong?" The woman half-rose from her chair, but Charlie was way ahead of her. He jerked to his feet, toppling his chair backwards in the process. Now the other patrons had stopped talking, had turned to look.

"I think he's choking!" screeched an elderly woman whose ebony cane might've been related to Vayl's. I expected Charlie to nod, but his hands had moved to his chest, pressed flat against it as if to keep his innards from revolting and becoming his outards.

The kids, two blond-headed cuties about seven and nine, sat absolutely still, but I noticed they were clutching each other's hands. Somebody yelled "Call 911!" and the whole room erupted, everyone talking at once, the woman screaming, "Charlie, Charlie!" and people from my side of the room rushing over to get a better look.

Charlie keeled over, still holding his chest, and I felt the power flare out so quickly I could almost believe someone had pulled the plug. Almost.

I needed to find Vayl.
We
needed to locate Charlie's attacker. But before I could act, Charlie, himself, stopped me. He lay on the floor, his eyes open and yet empty as marbles. I'd seen a lot of dead guys in my time, and Charlie had definitely joined the club. But I'd never seen what happened next.

This dazzling light emerged from Charlie's body and hovered over it like morning mist. Only it looked more substantial. It was as if a Charlie-sized diamond floated three feet off Umberto's carpet, each facet giving off its own unique color. Then, as if some cosmic hand had reached down and turned the wheel of a kaleidoscope, the diamond split, spun and reformed. Now, multiple jewels danced in the air above Charlie's body. A moment later they flew apart like a spectacular Chinese firework.

One shot straight into the wife's mouth, quieting her immediately. One went to each boy, landing gently on their foreheads and then sinking out of sight. Several exited via windows, walls and doors, and I suspected they'd find their way to his dearest friends and relatives tonight. The largest one shot straight through the ceiling, destination unknown, but I—jaded, cynical Jaz, was voting for heaven.

"That is some amazing backwash you've got there, Vayl," I murmured.

"What?"

I turned to look and there he stood, not three feet from me, watching the action from a small nook formed by a ceiling-high rubber tree plant and the corner of the bathroom entry way, his power at its usual simmer. Most people would've looked straight at him and never seen a thing. Nobody was looking but me, however, so I was the only one who saw him 'solidify.' It was like watching a computer sketch fill with color. One moment he was a chalk drawing. The next he was a stern, handsome gentleman admiring the greenery.

"Vayl—" I began, but Cole stepped up, yanking Vayl's sleeve so he would turn and face us.

"Who did this?" he demanded. "Who just killed that man while you stood and watched?"

"It was not my place to interfere—"

"Goddammit this is not a National Geographic special! You're not supposed to huddle in the bushes and film the lions killing the zebras. You're supposed to kill the lions."

"We
are
the lions," Vayl corrected, "and we must be extremely careful before we challenge another pride. The odds must be in our favor, yes?"

Cole looked ready to go caveman on Vayl's head. "Yes," I said, taking Cole's hand and squeezing until he turned his attention to me. "To kill from a distance," I shook my head, "that's badass power, Cole. You don't just jump in the path of that. Not unless you want to get seriously maimed."

"Who
are
you people?" Cole whispered.

Vayl and I shared a stony look and a chilling silence. Though John Q. Public knew we existed, he rarely wanted to be reminded. We were thinking Cole would feel the same.

A couple of E.M.T.s arrived and Charlie left on a mobile bed with his stunned family trailing behind. Umberto's manager finally convinced everyone to return to their seats, offering half off their dinners to keep them from bolting. It pretty much worked.

"Cole." I turned to him, took a deep breath and said a mental goodbye. "Get out."
Get out, get out, get out
—

"Now wait a minute," Cole and Vayl chorused, looking at each other with consternation as they realized they shared the same opinion.

"Have you ever fought a vampire?" I asked Cole.

"No, but—"

"Then there's no point in staying, is there? Get out while you still have your humanity."

"But what about—"

"We'll call you, okay?" I said, not meaning it, hoping I could talk Vayl out of using Cole's connections, tempting though they were. My little hike down memory lane had reminded me too well how much it hurt to lose good people, and the longer I knew Cole the more I knew he was good people. "Just, please, take off before the vamp that killed Charlie realizes you're with us."

He looked hard at me, trying to decipher my expression. "Okay, I'll go. As soon as you give me your number." I started to argue but, like a magician sliding an ace out of his sleeve, Vayl pulled out our business card and handed it to him.