Bite Marks (4 page)

“All right, then,” she said. “Come on, Jasmine.”

I hesitated, my way blocked not just by Vayl’s physical presence, but by the intensity in his expression.

“She needs me,” he told Cassandra, though he kept his eyes on mine. “I feel it more deeply than this wound in my side. And yet you are the one huddled here with her.”

“Jaz needs all of us.” When she caught his expression, hers softened. “But you most of all. Remember that, because how you handle the next few minutes could make the difference in her soul’s salvation.”

“Oh geez, Cassandra, let’s not put any pressure on him or anything,” I said as I twisted Cirilai on my finger. His eyes shot to it, alarm widening them, making me drop my hands to reassure him that I wasn’t about to take it off. I had once, and the wall that had dropped between us had nearly destroyed us both.

Trust. Maybe I could work on that.

“What is Cassandra talking about?” he asked me.

I tried to pull in one of those bracing breaths that get you through tough situations, but my lungs wouldn’t cooperate. Too busy considering a full collapse. “I think you’ve sensed that something was wrong with me ever since we hit Canberra. I’m—”

I tried. The word wouldn’t move past my frozen tongue. Brude had put a block on communications, and while I struggled against him, Cassandra watched me with a sympathy that made me fight all the harder, because it was a reflection of how far I’d fallen.

She turned to Vayl. “Jaz has been possessed.”

He looked deep into my eyes. I fought to keep mine open against the sudden pain that pierced them.

Brude, you son of a bitch! Now that I know you’ve been the one torturing me, you gotta know
how bad you’re going to bleed when I finally beat you!

I’d have piled on more ire, but Vayl was checking Cassandra for confirmation of what he’d seen moving behind my pupils. By the time he turned back to me his irises were already darkening to the black with red flecks that reflected his most disturbing emotions.

“Possessed by what?” he murmured, still talking to me like he thought I could respond.

Cassandra answered. “She says it’s one of Lucifer’s minions. A Domytr she encountered on your last assignment that goes by the name of Brude.”

“Why is she not talking?”

Our psychic considered me. “May I touch you?”

I tilted my head sideways, then nodded. She leaned forward and took my free hand. Just a brief clasp was enough to make her look like she’d eaten something rancid. “His strength increases when she is feeling some extreme emotion. Right now she’s deeply”—Cassandra smiled at me—“nervous. About how you’ll react to this.”

I wanted to snap off a witty comment.
Hey, let’s all discuss Jaz like she’s not even here, why don’t
we?
But now my throat had closed so tight I’d begun to feel dizzy. A lot of good can be said for honesty.

But too big of a dose can kill you.

From a distance, like the wail of a train horn, I heard Cassandra tell Vayl, “She believes you’ll be furious when you find that Cole and I both accidentally discovered her secret before she could tell you. She’s worried that you’ll see her as weak now, or perhaps mentally unfit like Liliana and, in either case, undeserving of your affections. She wanted to handle this on her own, so that your new romance could have time to cement itself before it was rocked by such an event.” Cassandra went on, but her words disappeared in the hum my ears put out as they tried to cope with my narrowing vision.
Brude, I swear to Jesus if you let me pass out I’ll make it a personal goal to pry
every one of those tattoos off your skin with a screwdriver and a pair of pliers.

Vayl emptied his hands, just like that, dropping the cane on the floor as if it mattered less to him than a flyer you’d crumple up the moment after some poor schmuck handed it to you on the street. He came close and tipped up my chin, a gesture so familiar it nearly made me smile.

“Jasmine,” he whispered. “My
pretera.
”

Geez, I didn’t much feel like a wildcat. But if he insisted—

“I am not your father, your mother, nor your grandmother. I am not one of your Helsingers, and definitely not Matt. Listen to me. Look into my eyes. I will not leave you. Not ever—”

“You can’t promise—”

I stopped. More out of surprise that I’d gotten my voice back than that Vayl had held up his hand to prevent my argument. His smile had vanished. “I can make any vow I like. I am your
sverhamin
, which means what I promise you, I follow through upon.”

“So… you’re not leaving me?”

“Ridiculous.”

“And you’re not pissed?”

“Of course.”

My shoulders dropped. Once I wouldn’t have cared. I’d have said, “F-you. I’m too busy to worry about your petty little problems.” But that was when I was one of the walking wounded and my own issues outweighed everyone else’s. Plus, it had been so long since anyone gave a crap how Vayl felt about anything. He really appreciated it when I paid attention. His kiss, light as a raindrop on my forehead, made me look up.

“Later for that,” he said. “Now is the time to give Brude the boot before he paralyzes more than your vocal cords.”

“Do you know how to do that?” Cassandra asked.

He shook his head. “Raoul might. And I think we should ask Pete as well.”

“NO!” I didn’t realize I’d shouted until I saw Cassandra back up. But I still couldn’t help the panic that kept me babbling. “For shit’s sake, you guys, the last thing I need is for you to call headquarters and inform them that their black sheep just put another blotch on her record. And Raoul… what if he decides I’m damaged goods? Not fit to do Eldhayr work around here anymore? Maybe he’ll reverse everything he’s done and just…”

Cassandra hugged Astral like she were a real, live kitty. “Surely Raoul wouldn’t kill you? He’s one of the good guys!”

“But they look at death differently, don’t they? It’s not such a bad thing to them, because they’re still fighting. They don’t have anybody left down here to hold them.” Vayl rested his chin on his knuckles. “All right, then. Do you have any ideas, Cassandra?” She shook her head. “No, but I have her.” She held up Bergman’s invention, reminding us of all the information they’d downloaded into her. Centuries’ worth. “I suspect it’ll take some time to unearth information on a creature so rare. But if anyone has ever discovered the Domytr’s weakness, it would be a Sister.”

I said, “Okay, and for a backup plan, what about that guy Ruvin?” I asked. “The seinji have a couple of famous demon fighters in their history. Maybe he knows something we—” Vayl’s shaking head stopped me. “He is laboring under the assumption that we are part of a Hollywood film company scouting production locations for our next blockbuster.”

“And that we brought along Gerard Butler, why, to carry our cameras?” Vayl’s brows lowered. “Cole’s fabrication seems to have stuck because Ruvin is, ah, easily deceived. I am reluctant to follow suit. The man has agreed to drive us around for the next couple of days, not to locate an exorcist.”

I held up my hand. “Okay, I want to go on the record in stating that I refuse to puke green shit and float up to the ceiling while channeling Naomi Campbell before she’s assaulted at least one employee for the day.”

“Then it’s settled,” said Cassandra. “I’ll start researching immediately. And you”—she pointed at me with one perfectly manicured orange-painted nail—“will stay positive. Astral may have all the information we need right in here.” She tapped the cat’s head. The metallic clicking sound that resulted reminded me to keep robokitty in the shadows if any of the neighbors decided to pay us a visit. She’d even begun to fool me, but as soon as someone touched her, our cover would be blown.

Cassandra whispered in Astral’s ear, probably using the very same words she’d said to mobilize her traditional
Enkyklios
the last time she’d used it to help me. Then it had conjured up an image of a soul-eating monster called a reaver, whose buddies had hounded me for weeks. Somehow I had a feeling whatever Astral dug up would be just as threatening.

“This may take a while,” said Cassandra as we watched the cat’s ears twitch in a regular circuit from left to right and back again, stopping every few centimeters almost like they’d become parts of a clock face.

“When she does come up with helpful information, she’ll relay it to you by video feed, possibly without warning. So, ah, don’t drive off a cliff or anything like that when it happens.”

“O-kay.” I suddenly felt as grumpy as a kid who’s just realized she still has to wait two more weeks to open her Christmas presents. “Now can we get back to the guys? Cole’s probably convinced Raoul to set up a whole petting zoo for him by now.”

“We still need to talk,” Vayl murmured as he picked up his cane.

I scratched at a particularly annoying itch on my left shoulder as I said, “Don’t we always?” Usually smoothing Jack’s soft gray fur into place calms me down. He gives me that tongue-drooping grin while I bury my fingers in his coat and we both just—chill. He’s even tall enough that I can give his head a scratch on the go, as I was now, moving through the dining room with its plain wooden table, four ancient chairs, and its wall full of family portraits, all of which I avoided viewing by keeping my eyes on the white linoleum floor beneath my feet.

But some moods just won’t bend to soothing, and mine was one of them. I felt the fiery ball-o’-whacked in my chest burn even brighter as I followed Vayl and Cassandra out the door, back onto the patio. As soon as we cleared the doorway Jack took off for the yard’s lone tree, fearful that some fence-leaping hound had marked it in his absence. Astral jumped onto the table, where she curled into a ball, her ears still roving like lighthouse beams. Bergman stopped pacing to stare.

“What did you do?”

“Gave her some research,” I said. Cassandra smiled at me as she took her original seat.

“What kind?”

“I’ll spill if you tell me what’s up with that hat you’re wearing.” His hand flew to the brim and yanked it down. “Nothing! Can’t a guy support his favorite baseball team without people getting all over his case?”

“Bergman?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s an RBI?”

He stared at me for a full five seconds. Then he said, “Fine. Don’t share,” and went over to slump in the chair beside Cassandra’s.

Raoul and Cole, still sitting at the table with their heads together over a rough sketch that looked like a plate of spaghetti, hadn’t heard a single word.

“Are you sure about this?” Raoul was asking. “I mean, some people consider their model trains a family heirloom. You could give them to your kids someday.”

Cole shrugged. “If I even have kids, which I doubt, they’ll probably be into something you and I have never heard of like virtual Play-Doh or paintball Monopoly. Anyhow, they may be in sorry shape, because they’ve been in Mom’s attic for ten years. But, yeah, you keep your end of the bargain and you can have my old trains.”

So Raoul had decided to carry through on his plans to tear out the bar in his penthouse, which Vayl had accidentally broken the last time we’d visited, and replace it with a model railroad layout. He’d found, in Cole, an equipment supplier. And apparently the price was getting the dumbass close enough to a kangaroo to give it a scratch under the chin.

I sat down beside my Spirit Guide, trying to decide how to convince him that this whole scheme would probably end up with him mending Cole’s bent and broken body. Then I decided it just might keep him from studying me too closely. Which would be good, since everybody else had pretty much figured out something was off with me after spending ten minutes in my company, and I wanted him to think I was coasting.

A spurt of warmth from Cirilai, sending tingles down my hand to my fingertips, turned my attention to Vayl, who was regarding me intently.

He knows how much this all freaks me out. Of course he does. He’s had my blood. He can tune
into my emotions now. And he’s, what, reassuring me? How… nice. And yet. Goddammit.

Shouldn’t I be stronger than this? Why do I need a Vampere hug? Why is this getting to me?

Because Brude is in your head, where no one should come uninvited
, said Granny May. She’d cracked open the door. Poked her head out.
You hate that almost as much as you despise the idea
that you might need help to get rid of him. But really, Jaz, how many times do we have to go over
this? Wonder Woman might’ve been a superhero, but I’m pretty sure she never got laid.

Oh, come on, what about Steve Trevor?

I think she hired him from the local escort service. All laurel, no—

Grandmother!

My point is that you’re surrounded by good people now. At some point, if you don’t decide it’s all
right to become as much a part of their team as they are of yours, you’re just a frozen-faced
mannequin living in a store window designed by some color-blind shtoock who doesn’t believe in
Christmas.

Granny May, I think you forgot to take your meds this morning.

That’s entirely possible.

Good talking to you.

I ran my eyes around the table, seeking distraction, and finding instead the faces of five of the people who most cared about me in the world. Maybe I
should
tell Raoul. Geez, he probably had some firsthand experience in exor—well, you know. And Bergman. If science could scoop out Brude’s sorry ass, Miles would find a way. I flipped my eyes back to Raoul. Nah, he’d started to doodle on his paper again and talk ecstatically about cork and engines. I leaned toward my old roomie.

“Bergman?” He jumped. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, it wasn’t you.” He pulled a thin metal box out of his pocket and gave it to me. It fit snugly in my hand, its only feature a screen that currently showed blank. “The timer went off,” Bergman explained. “I mean”—he held up his wrist—“the one on my watch that tells me we need to start paying attention to this.”

He nodded to the item, which led directly to my second question. “What’s it do?”