One More Bite

by Jennifer Rardin

  “How the hell did you suppose we were going to pay for your funeral when you blew your savings on this trip!”

  Vayl put his hand on my shoulder. “Jasmine, it could be that you are ruining a special moment here.”

  We both ignored him as Albert shot back, “I imagined you’d toss me in the back of a pickup truck and dump me over some cliff to be eaten by vultures like you threaten to do every time I get sick!”

  “I only said that once, and it was because you hadn’t checked your blood sugar in, like, a month! If you’re going to be an idiot I’m not going to pay for it!”

  “Don’t you think I know that? That’s why when the senators from the Oversight Committee called me right after I got off the phone with Pete, I didn’t hang up on them!”

  Vayl’s grip on my shoulder tightened. This message I got. Pay attention, Jasmine. This is important. “The Oversight Committee? For our department? Called you?”

  Albert clamped his lips shut, a damn-I-said-too-much grimace lining his face. I inched so close to him our noses practically banged together. “What did they want, Dad?”

  “They’re going to reimburse all my expenses in return for a report on how you guys operate.” He stuck his forefinger in my shoulder and pushed me backward. “I don’t know what you’re worried about. You’re the best.”

  “Albert, part of the reason we’re good is because nobody knows how we work.” I glanced up at Vayl. “What do you think?”

  He leaned against the wall as if he had all the time in the world to ponder. “I am distinctly unimpressed by this group of imbeciles, but sometimes their type can do the worst damage. We must discover their motives, but later. Albert’s issue presses, especially if he feels his death will be a sure result.”

  I studied my dad, who’d had a helluva a lot more people try to kill him than I’d ever battled. I thought now that he would’ve preferred that end to the diabetes doing the trick, and either one to a “ghoul” that he had no idea how to fight. I said, “Listen, before you hand over your golden years to some ooglie booglie, maybe you should let me take a stab at it.”

  Albert shook his head. “This is demonic stuff, Jaz. Something you have no experience with. And the last of the great demon hunters died with—” He stopped. His stony face betrayed a hint of grief as he said, “They’re gone.”

  I just barely prevented myself from laughing in his face.

  “Let’s just say there’s a new game in town.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Before the games could begin, however, Vayl, Cole, Albert, and I had to pick our positions. While Iona and Viv remained on the floor of the front hall with Floraidh and Dormal, trying to decide what to do with the rest of their evening, we held a quick powwow on the stairs.

  “One of us must go on the GhostWalk,” said Vayl.

  “I think the girls are leaning that direction,” Cole said. “If they do, I’ll tag along.”

  Something in the way he stared down at Viv as she signed to Iona stopped me. “Cole? You’re not developing feelings for them, are you?”

  “No!”

  “Because one of them could turn out to be the—”

  “I know that!” Still, I could see it in his eyes when he dragged them back to mine. Tenderness. Especially for the blah dresser with the funky shoes, who, despite everything, had still found the strength to smile tonight.

  Albert began flipping through the pages of his program.

  “You know, if you’re going to play blind, the least you could do is act the part,” I said. “Take Jack for instance.” My dog looked up at me, licking his chops as if I’d just offered him a treat. “He’s fully into the part of seeing-eye dog. If we were at a busy intersection right now, I bet he wouldn’t step into the street until the light turned.”

  “Yeah, I know what you tell that mutt when I’m not around,” Albert huffed. “If I was really blind you’d probably have him lead me right into the path of a semi. Here”—he held up the booklet, showing me the GhostWalk page—“look at this.” He pointed out a full-color picture depicting Clava Cairns. It was a day shot, revealing huge beech trees shading three large burial mounds, all of which were surrounded by standing stones, themselves like tall, rectangular grave markers. The cairns had been built as circular hills, with large boulders forming the outer ring and smaller stones making up the remaining construction. Two of them had paths to the inside. The one in the center was a complete ring.

  Vayl touched my arm as I felt a coldness steal over me, watching my father’s fingers graze the photo of the four-thousand-year-old grave site he’d been ordered to visit the next evening.

  “I’m going on this walk,” said Albert.

  “No.” I spoke before I had time to think. The sound he made reminded me he still had too much mental capacity for my orders to hold any weight.

  Before Albert could slam me, Vayl said, “I share your daughter’s concerns. What if your visitor decides to come early? At the very least, it would throw off our entire mission to have to bury you this week.”

  Harsh. But a message Albert understood. “All right. One of you is going anyway, you said so yourselves. Just get Cole to convince the girls to come along. Then two of you will be there to protect me.”

  When we both still hesitated, he said, “Look, Floraidh’s not going anywhere. It’s not going to take all three of you to keep an eye on her for the next half hour. And if the girls are on the walk they’re not going to be here trying to kill her.”

  Cole nodded and trotted down the stairs to talk to Viv and Iona.

  Vayl and I shared a short, silent powwow.

  Do you wanna go? I asked.

  He is your father.

  Why do you keep reminding me?

  He glanced at Albert. “When does the first tour leave?”

  Albert checked the program. “Five minutes.”

  “Never enough time,” Vayl muttered. “Come,” he said to me. “I believe I may have left something in the van you will find helpful if Albert’s friend turns out to be an early riser.”

  He led me out of the castle to the deserted parking lot. When he raised the back door of the Alhambra I expected to find some sort of megaweapon crated up and waiting for me. The storage compartment was empty.

  I turned to Vayl. “What—” He motioned for silence as he removed his party line transmitter and motioned for me to do the same. As soon as I’d pocketed mine he took my free hand, turned Cirilai with his fingers, making the rubies reflect the moonlight.

  “I can feel events begin to spin out of our control. Soon we will not even have a moment to call our own. That is the way of our lives.” His brows drew together. “I should be used to it by now.” He glanced at me, his eyes so dark I could feel whole universes sifting, birthing, and dying on the other side. “But I have become greedy of late. I am not sure this is right. I am certain it is dangerous. But I cannot resist.”

  He yanked me into his arms, pulling me onto my tiptoes. Our mouths met with such force I knew my lips would burn for the rest of the night. The feel of his body, hard against mine, rocked me to the core. I felt like all the paintings I’d never understood, all the stars that had shone cold in the sky above me, every joke that had left me unmoved suddenly shifted into place. Everything I’d ever done made sense because I’d found someone who made me forget to breathe.

  Now.

  Vayl lifted his head. Cool, he’s panting too!

  Don’t wait, Jaz. Don’t ever let it be too late again.

  I loosened my hold on him. Maybe digging my fingernails into his shoulder blades, while fine for a passionate embrace, wasn’t quite appropriate for the next move I had in mind.

  “Jasmine?”

  “Did I ever tell you I love the way you say my name?”

  He shook his head, his face almost completely in shadow. Suddenly I needed to see how he’d react. I squeezed my eyes shut. The contact lenses Bergman had made for me kicked in, bathing the area in see-in-the-dark green. My Sensitivity
added more color. Enough that Vayl’s face showed clear, if slightly reddish yellow. You know what? It’ll do.

  I said, “The fact that you went back home? That you said goodbye to your boys? Although I know you still have a lot to do, it’s enough of a start for me.”

  Vayl went still, as if the slightest movement might interfere with his hearing. “What are you saying?” he whispered.

  I slid my hands across his broad shoulders, down his arms, and in around his waist. Given a choice, I knew I’d never leave his side, never go without this kind of touch again. “I love you, Vayl.”

  A hitch in his breath, the slightest double take accompanied by a tender, dawning smile. “Yeeees!” He picked me up and twirled me around so quickly my feet flew out behind me like they had when I was a kid and Gramps Lew wanted to play Merry-Go-Grandpa.

  As soon as he set me down he demanded, “Say it again!”

  “I love—”

  “Ha, ha!” Triumph in his fierce, fangtastic grin as he pulled me in for another kiss. And then a whole bouquet of them, raining down on my face like drought-relieving waters. “Again,” he growled.

  “I love you, all right? Geez, are you always going to be this insatiable?”

  His expression took a wicked turn. “I cannot wait to show you.” He took my hand, pulled me away from the van so he could close the hatch. “Let us go tell your father.”

  Gulp.

  “Yeah, sure.” I don’t mind dying young. Always thought it would happen this way. Not by Albert, necessarily, but then, the family is usually in on it somehow. More to stave off execution than because I really needed to hear it I said, “Um, was there anything you wanted to say to me? Now that it’s somewhat appropriate?”

  We stopped beside one of those sweet little Minis that, if it came to America, would immediately be set upon and eaten by a gang of SUVs. Vayl turned to me, pulling me into his arms once again.

  I could get used to this. I want to. Is that a bad thing?

  Vayl’s lips brushed against my hair, forehead, eyelids. “You know I have been saying this to you, in one way or another, for months?”

  “Uh.”

  Soft laugh, carried away by the warm Scottish breeze. “Jasmine?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Never have I been so glad to have lived so long. You are the woman my heart has waited for all these centuries. I love you with every—are you laughing?”

  “I’m sorry! It’s just . . . are you really that mushy?”

  Hint of dimple. “Why? Are you sensing the need for galoshes?”

  “More like hip boots!”

  “How shall I tell you, then? Would you prefer it in writing? A sonnet to my darling’s eyes?”

  I made a gagging sound.

  “All right, then. Perhaps if I leaped in front of a stray bullet?”

  “God, no!”

  He lifted my hand to his lips, kissed the ring he’d slipped on my hand during our last mission, when I’d finally admitted we needed each other whether I liked it or not. “Will you give me some time to ponder? I may yet come up with the perfect medium for my heartfelt confession.”

  “Sure, yeah. Ponder away.” I looked at my watch. “We should be getting back. The GhostWalk’s going to start any minute now.”

  “That will give us very little time to discuss our relationship with your father. Perhaps we should do it—as you Americans prefer most occasions—over a meal.”

  “Definitely,” I replied, swallowing hard to keep the relief south of my vocal chords. “But not breakfast. I don’t really want something this special shared among Scidairans.”

  “All right, then. Our first free meal after this mission ends will be the one in which we share our news.”

  “Excellent!” Maybe I’ll get zapped by Bea and spend the next two weeks in the hospital. One can only hope.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Here’s how bad I had it. Walking back to the castle, I wanted to hold hands with Vayl. Like teenagers at a football game. Worse, I wanted to walk into the front hall with that strut in my step that let everybody know I’d landed the captain of the team. Everybody but Albert, that is. Oh, and Cole. Except neither one acknowledged me when I joined the GhostWalk group just inside the entrance, my party line firmly back in place. Albert sat at the bottom of the stairs, patting Jack while he stared off into space, doing his “legally blind” act. And Viv, Iona, and Cole were signing so quickly their fingers practically blurred. Then the three of them would dissolve into giggles.

  And there you have it, folks. After just a few hours of concerted effort, Cole has charmed the shy girl and the cold-fish lesbian. Give that man a bonus! And while you’re at it, give me a new damn coat!

  I still wore my leather, just because I needed to cover my shoulder holster. But the bullet hole followed by the ghost slash had ruined it. Dammit. I didn’t care if Pete had to squeeze the money out of his own ass, he was going to pay for this one.

  The buzz at the back of my brain distracted me, signaled that Vayl had clicked in the camouflage. Since he might need a set of wheels, I handed him the keys to the van and he glided from my side, no one in the group even acknowledging his exit. But I noticed. In fact, I felt his absence like the surgical removal of an organ. Is it gonna be this way every time we have to separate? Because if so . . . I sighed . . . I’m just going to have to learn to stop whining and deal with it.

  I glanced up. He’d intercepted the Raisers on their way to their next event. A short conversation laced with his subtle suggestiveness ended with the exchange of business cards. After everything that had happened, he’d still given a thought to Viv. To her possible decision to dispel a murderer’s ghost. And it looked to me like he’d just laid the groundwork in case she made that choice.

  I caught his eye, mouthed, I love you. He touched two fingers to his lips and lowered them to me, as if real kisses should never be blown, just gently released in your sweetheart’s direction.

  Damn, that’s hot! I did a quick personal check to make sure I wasn’t slack-jawed, tongue-dropped gawking as I watched him settle into a corner of the second-story hallway, sliding into a high-backed chair like he belonged there. Nobody looked up. And no one walking by glanced his way. It wasn’t that he had the ability to become invisible. Just that he put out a strong vibe that caused everyone close to ignore him. Completely.

  I pretended to scratch my ear, checked to make sure I’d reset my equipment correctly, and mumbled the first sensible thought that came to mind. “What kind of fool survives a ghost attack only to go trolling through the countryside in the hopes of finding yet more ghosts?”

  “I believe you are surrounded by them,” murmured Vayl. “Now play nice. If you offend the entire group we may never find out what Floraidh has planned.”

  I snorted. So much for romance. I guess I’m supposed to keep that totally separate from work like some damn adult or something. This day just keeps getting better. And it’s only been May thirteenth for like—I checked my watch—an hour and a half!

  “All right, everyone, gather round, gather round!”

  At first all I could see was a ripple of people as the group moved aside for a smaller but more forceful personality who, it turned out, would be our guide. As he mounted the first five steps, the better to be seen and heard by us GhostWalkers, I felt my mouth drop. Cole came up beside me.

  “I like his look, don’t you?”

  “What would you call it?”

  Cole pointed his foot in front of him as he crossed his arms and pursed his lips. In the girliest voice he could manage he said, “Do you see how the orange scarf offsets the tiger-striped shirt, which is quite brilliantly tucked into the black spandex pants so we’re left in no doubt as to the fact that he’s at least two hundred pounds overweight?”

  I covered my mouth to hide the smile. “Yeah, I noticed that.”

  “Brilliant. I know I want him.”

  “I don’t think you’re his type. Look at you. White button-down We
stern shirt, blue jeans. The only thing that’s not boring about your outfit is your shoes!”

  “Let’s introduce him to Albert. See if he can resist yanking out a handful of this guy’s chest hair. Who told him he should unbutton the top three anyway?”

  “Maybe his designer’s suffered an identity crisis.”

  Our guide had held up his hands as if we’d greeted him with deafening applause and must be calmed down.

  “My name is Bartolomé Felipe Penilla and I will be your GhostWalk guide for this evening,” he said in a tone even more feminine than the one Cole had used. I thought his Spanish accent sounded forced. But something at the back of his words stirred my memory. By the end of the tour I might be able to guess his real birth country. “Now, I’ll be wearing this portable microphone”—he pointed to the headpiece threaded through his funky hair, which was spiked on one side and straightened on the other—“so even though we have a group of twenty tonight, you should all be able to hear me.”

  A hand shot up in the crowd. I nearly moaned out loud. There’s always one gabber, isn’t there? “Yes, sir?” said Bart.

  “Where are we going first?” asked the guy, a dome-headed nose pincher who’d evidently never learned how to follow an itinerary. Because it was all written out for us in the program. Even Floraidh’s stop had been penciled in.

  Our guide held up a finger. Was that light pink polish on his nails? He’d better not be waving his hands around much tonight. If Albert caught a glimpse he’d tackle the guy and make him cover his hands with dirt. Or worse, Jack droppings.

  Bart said, “I think you are going to be quite delighted. This year we have finally gained permission to tour Clava Cairns by night. After that we’ll visit Siorruidh, which is the Hoppringhill cemetery. And that will lead us to our surprise stop. A ghost has been sited at Tearlach this very evening!”