Bite Marks (3 page)

“If that’s a gnome whose crotch Jack is nosing, I’m going to tie your hair in a bun and sell you to the pirates who operate off this coast. I hear they’re always looking for fresh young girlfriends.” Our boss, Pete, wanted to brief us personally on the details of this assignment, but we both already knew it involved gnomes attacking the Canberra Deep Space Complex, one of NASA’s three eyes to the cosmos. Not every gnome wanted to stomp Canberra’s eye to jelly. Just the Ufranites, a fanatical sect that’d transformed half their farmers to soldiers in less than a decade.

Cole sighed. “Would you chill? I know Ruvin’s got the long forehead and chin of a gnome, but look at him! He’s over three and a half feet tall, there’s no tail in sight, and if his nose was blue you’d have seen it from inside the plane. He’s a seinji.”

Okay, seinji I could deal with. They were distant relatives of gnomes. But nearly all of them had, like Vayl, found a way to live among humans. To blend. “Still—”

He leaned his chin on my shoulder. “I checked him out. He’s fine. Plus—and this is the part that’s going to make you add at least twenty bucks to my Christmas gift—Ruvin’s an independent contractor.”

“He doesn’t work for the funeral home full-time?”

“Nope. Only when they have to double or triple up. Or when guys like me request him”—he paused for dramatic effect—“because his next pickup is the Odeam Digital Security team.”

“Really?” So Cole knew what Pete had told me and Vayl. That our target worked for the most trusted software security company in America.

He nodded. “I planted one of Bergman’s new bugs on Ruvin. If we’re lucky we’ll know our target’s name before the Odeam team has left the airport.” He beamed at me. Like I was supposed to forgive him for conning Vayl into traveling to Australia via golf bag.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “You do understand the whole team is suspect, right? We may have to take them all out before this is over.”

Cole swallowed. Nodded.

I checked my watch. Three thirty p.m. We might just have time. If we
hurried.

“Let’s get him loaded,” I said.

Cole squeezed my shoulder. “But then you’ll miss the best part.” I wrapped my arm around his waist so I could jerk him close enough to whisper in his ear, “You’re about to lose
your
best part.”

“Hey, this event is costing somebody a lot of money. You might as well enjoy it.” He grinned down at me, his bright blue eyes daring me to loosen up and have some fun.

“This is not necessary.”

Cole popped a huge green bubble in my face. “Picking up a casket-rider and the woman you’re about to fall out of love with is boring. Arranging a funeral procession with a displaced band from the French Quarter and a quartet of professional mourners is one for the diary. You do keep a diary, don’t you, Jaz?”

“No! And don’t call me that. I’m here as Lucille Robinson, remember?” Cole frowned. “But if you’re Lucille, who am I?”

“Hell if I know. As I recall, your last text said you didn’t like the name they’d picked for you and had demanded a new one.”

“Damn straight! The CIA has no imagination, you know.”

I’d have told him to pipe down, but between the band’s latest number and the wails of the four women who’d emerged from the backseat of the hearse to drape themselves and a blanket of flowers over the casket’s tee-time accessories, I could barely hear his whispers.

“Sure,” I agreed, mainly because I thought I’d seen the coffin wobble. Had one of the pallbearers stumbled, or… I checked my watch again. Holy crap, we were cutting this close!

“Do you want to know my new name?” Cole asked as we led Cassandra and Bergman toward the country club casket. Would Tiger Woods be caught dead in one of those? I thought not.

I sighed and said, “Since we’re going to be working together for the next few days, a clue to your fake ID might help.”

“Thor Longfellow.”

I stopped and stared, not even turning when I heard Cassandra stumble to a halt behind me. “No.” His hair bounced cheerfully as he nodded. I asked, “How did you get away with that?” He shrugged. “The girl who assigns identities really likes Thai food, and I know this place on the East Side—”

“Say no more.” I should’ve guessed he’d charmed that ridiculous cover out of a woman. I got moving again, picking up the pace when I realized the pallbearers had begun to look at the coffin, and each other, curiously.

“Oh, please, could you just put him in the car now?” I asked, attempting to make my voice quiver.

Instead I sounded like I’d tried to squeeze myself into my old training bra. At least it got Jack’s attention.

He trotted over to inspect me for injuries, which gave me a chance to grab his leash.

Ruvin, duded up in a white uniform to match the hearse, with green buttons that complemented its future load, opened the back door. The pallbearers had just begun to slide the casket in when the ruby-luscious ring on my left hand shot a stream of warmth up my arm.

Oh, shit, he’s awake!

Most vampires would’ve slept through the whole transfer. But Vayl had powers, baby, and one of those was the ability to draw in another vamp’s
cantrantia
, his or her essential skill, and make it his own.

Which meant the one time he’d been forced to stay awake through the entire day, he hadn’t just slept it off at the next sunrise. He’d seen the dawn and another two hours of light before going down. Same deal, only reversed, that evening. And every day since. Nice for him—and me—until now.

I handed Jack off to Cassandra, flung my arms into the air, and began to wail, “I can’t stand it! This is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me! Life will never be the same again! He was so young! We never even had kids!” On and on I ranted, barely pausing to breathe between screeches.

“Oh, you’re good!” Cole scrubbed at his day-old stubble to hide his smile, which quickly transformed into a jaw-dropper when a fist punched through the golf bag’s lid. Luckily only the two of us noticed. The rest were distracted by the youngest mourner, who’d ripped her dress, maybe thinking she had to one-up me if she wanted a decent tip.

“Oh, God, why did this happen to me!” I flung myself across the hand, which began to work its way up my ribs like they were a ladder to the Promised Land. But I could feel Vayl’s mood through Cirilai, the ring that bound us closer than a promise, and fun was the last thing on his mind. I sent him soothing thoughts, yanked a handful of roses from the bouquet decorating the lid, and shoved them into his fist.

The mourners, inspired by their colleague’s wardrobe malfunction and my overacting, kicked it into high gear. Their screams bounced off the hearse and sank into the coffin, sending Vayl into a frenzy. Despite the tradition followed by most of his kind, he’d never spent his days in the spelunker’s paradise he presently inhabited. Only Pete’s promise of a hefty bonus and the help of a sedative known to work on vampires had convinced him to travel this way at all.

His other hand crashed through the lid, wrapped around my jacket, and forced me down, holding me so tight that I rode the casket into the hearse as Cole, Bergman, and Cassandra helped the pallbearers shove it the rest of the way home. Somebody slammed the door shut and, since the back of the car had no windows, I began to open the latches.

“I’m getting you out!” I called. I popped the last closure and Vayl shoved back the lid, rolling me into the narrow space between the coffin and the hearse’s inner wall, raining roses on me like I was a parade float. Now it was my turn to grit my teeth and wriggle.

“I’m stuck!” I yelled.

The lid slammed and Vayl, moving so fast all my eyes caught was a blur of black leather and bloodred cashmere, grabbed my arms and pulled me into the backseat. We landed on our sides, tangled like teenagers, our mouths so close I could feel the steam of his heavy breaths washing over my cheeks.

I pulled my head back, inspecting him for damage. His short, dark curls practically stood on end. His winged eyebrows looked like they wanted to fly off his forehead, but his eyes, the orange of a tiger lily, were already fading to brown. “That was… unpleasant,” he said, his expression still taut enough to show the bulge of his fangs under his upper lip.

“But this is nice,” I said as I slipped my hand inside his coat. I made my next move quick, because company was coming and the CIA frowns on fraternization. Not that my crew would’ve gossiped about me grabbing my boss’s rear. They knew how to keep their mouths shut. So did we, for that matter. But people who risk death with you on a regular basis just seem to figure things out. And if the Oversight Committee questioned them I didn’t want them to have to lie any more than necessary.

“Jasmine!” Vayl’s breath caught. “You pick the worst moments!” Which was true, because people had begun to pile into the hearse. I could hear the delight in his voice though. Damn near three hundred years old and he still loved to be groped.

“I think my necklace is tangled in your sweater,” I said. Since the line my shark’s tooth, shells, and beads were strung on had been tested to six hundred pounds, one guess which would give first.

“I do not care what is wound where as long as I am rid of that box.”

“That bag was lined with real silk!” Cole announced as he bounced into the seat beside Ruvin.

I covered Vayl’s mouth before he could reply, because absolutely nothing he said could’ve helped. I gasped when he licked my palm. “What’re you doing?”

“Your hand is bleeding,” he whispered.

Oh, great, the roses. I hadn’t even felt their thorns dig in when I’d ripped them out of the bunch. But now that I knew, my wounds began to throb, along with a vein in my temple as Bergman and Cassandra got comfy in the seat opposite us. Jack, bummed to be stuck in yet another enclosed space, hopped up on the seat beside us and stuck his nose against the window.

“Somebody needs to pay the mourners,” Bergman said to Vayl. “They say they won’t cry another tear until—”

“What mourners?” he growled.

I dropped my fist to his chest, thought better of patting it. Hell, his sweater no doubt cost more than my entire wardrobe. “It’s a long story. One you probably shouldn’t hear until you’ve had some nourishment and Cole’s a couple of miles away. Hang on.”

I freed my necklace and, taking Jack with me, slipped out the door, making sure the light didn’t hit Vayl’s position. Though he’d applied Bergman’s skin lotion and brought his fedora and sunglasses, the UV still hurt when it struck him. It just didn’t make him burst into flame anymore.

Pulling a wad of bills from an inner pocket of my jacket, I headed toward the oldest, and loudest, mourner. “How much?” I asked.

She named a number that made me bite my tongue. I nearly bartered, but realized as a widow wallowing in grief, I probably wouldn’t have the emotional stability to go there. Which made me wonder how many bereaved families got screwed the world over.

I gave her the dough and passed an even larger amount to the band. They, at least, made a pretty noise for their pay. I headed back to the hearse.

Stop.

Like competitors in a game of Simon Says, my feet obeyed. That the order came from a voice inside my head shouldn’t have been disturbing. I talk to myself all the time, and my imaginary people come in all shapes and sizes. Except this one had risen recently, without welcome or permission, or a face to make it familiar.

Don’t go back in that car
, it snarled.
What do you want with a seinji, a shallow playboy, a neurotic
inventor, and a See-it-all anyway? You’re better off on your own, like it was before you met that
cowardly vampire.

I closed my eyes. Like all my mental voices, this one felt like an extension of me. But I didn’t have the ability to silence it like I could the others. It had begun quietly near the end of our last mission and grown like a tumor ever since. The only time it voluntarily muted was when Vayl showed.

I scratched at an itch that threaded from wrist to elbow. Hell, maybe I’d still be standing there today, sinking nails into skin, if not for Jack, who let out a series of his rare, throaty woofs. They snapped the hold that voice had woven over me. As I forced my feet to carry me back to the hearse, it suddenly felt like I was attending my own funeral. Because I knew it was time to face the facts. Either I really despised everybody in that car. Or my psyche had picked up a passenger.

Cassandra did everything but check the corners of the dank little bathroom for Candid Cameras.

“Bustiers? Are you joking?”

“You know, if you want to pull off this trust deal, you can’t be making fun of me the first time I try it out!”

“Okay, okay! I just thought, you know, since you were engaged once…” I shrugged. “Matt and I sort of skipped the costumes. I can’t remember if we never had the time or if we were just always in that big of a hurry. Maybe if we’d been together longer we’d have gotten around to it.” Stab of regret. Even now, with Vayl such a presence in my life that all I had to do was think of him to make the ragged edges smooth again, sometimes I missed Matt so sharply it was a struggle not to clutch my stomach and double over.

I forced my mind back to the subject, said, “So I’m getting the feeling Vayl likes the dressing up. And I don’t have much in the way of variety. What was he hinting at before?” While Cassandra explained, I wished I’d brought a notebook and a pen. Because she didn’t stop at that item. Oh, no. Somewhere along the line my girlfriend had amassed vast experience in the world of undergarmentry. And when she realized I particularly liked the types that would transform my up-top look from average to let’s-do-video! she really got on a roll. By the time she was done we were giggling like a couple of co-eds planning our first road trip.

A rap at the door shut us down.

“Yes?” said Cassandra.

“If you ladies are finished, we are ready to discuss our strategy regarding the demon,” said Vayl.

She shot off the toilet like someone had pulled the fire alarm. Throwing open the door, she said, “Is she back?”

His eyes, a troubled shade of blue, cut to mine. “No. Raoul feels that we have time to plan. Perhaps you and he should discuss…” He stepped forward, his cane clicking on the tile as he closed on me.