The Deadliest Bite

by Jennifer Rardin

  “Look, kid.” I checked myself. I couldn’t be more than a year or two older than the guy. Even if I’d already survived more than his grandma, maybe I should avoid talking like her. I tried again: “Your ghost infestation is not our problem. Go bag yourself another vamp before we shred you like last year’s bills.”

  “Jasmine.” I turned my whole body toward Vayl as warning bells clanged so loud in my head that for a second I felt like I’d been transported into a church steeple.

  “What?”

  Vayl patted Aaron on the arm and said, “Excuse us.” He came over to me. “May I speak with you at the end of the hall for a moment?”

  “Sure.” I walked up to Aaron and began to frisk him.

  “Jasmine,” Vayl protested. “You have done a remarkable job. Now that we all know he is my son I am sure that is not necessary. Especially with Raoul right here—”

  I held up the vial I’d just retrieved from the inside of his calf. “Holy water, no doubt.” I stood. Folded my right arm around Aaron’s neck, forcing him to stoop to my level. He gasped, all the blood rushing to his face, his eyes bulging in shock as he realized a girl half his size had taken complete physical control of him and he hadn’t even thought to resist.

  I said, “Look at us closely, Vayl. One of us just inspired you to ram into the wall so hard the chandelier dropped half of its diamondy doodads on the floor. The other shot you in the head. You’d better make sure, right now, that you’re clear whose side you’re on.”

  The sides of his lips drooped. “This is not about loyalty.”

  “It sure as shit is. Don’t you dare make the same mistakes you made with Badu three hundred years ago. This little fucker—” I looked at Aaron as I spoke, noted his size, and said, “Okay, this big fucker just tried to kill you. He may be the walking incarnation of your murdered boy, but that doesn’t change the facts. And you have to face those facts. All of them. Now!”

  Vayl’s chin dropped a centimeter. Not an agreement. Just an acknowledgment that he’d think about it as he motioned to the end of the hall. I threw the holy water to Raoul and watched resentfully as Vayl moved away, the muscles bunching and releasing in his perfect ass. An hour ago I’d had my hands wrapped around that work of art, and my brain had been so deeply steeped in ecstasy it was practically rose-colored. Now I wanted to take that same rear and pinch it until the annoyance forced him to realize he couldn’t just instantly forgive the guy who’d tried to kill him, never mind who he’d been two hundred and some years ago.

  I took a deep breath. Vayl wasn’t the only one who had to work to contain his violent tendencies. I slipped my feet into a spare pair of shoes I’d left beside the front door yesterday and followed him to the end of the hall. We crunched through the glass of the cabinet he barely glanced at and ended up facing each other in front of his grandfather clock between two doorways, one leading left to the dining room, the opposite opening to the guest bathroom.

  He said, “I have not lost my mind.”

  I realized I’d crossed my arms when I dropped them in disbelief. “Oh?”

  “Aaron needs to think that I trust him implicitly.”

  “Why?”

  “So that he will believe just as deeply that you do not.”

  His dimple made another appearance and I clasped my hands behind my back so I wouldn’t be tempted to grab him. I turned my back so Junior wouldn’t be able to read my lips as I whispered, “Are you suggesting we pull a little good cop, bad cop scenario on him? And you’re even letting me be the bad cop?”

  He bowed his head. “That, my pretera, is how much I love you.”

  “You have never been sexier than at this very moment.”

  “It is a shame we have so much company,” he agreed quietly.

  I cleared my throat. “Okay. So you’re not buying the I’m-being-haunted story either?”

  “Certainly not. Those issues are easily taken care of through mediums. The boy has been weaponized. And until we discover by whom, we cannot help ourselves, or him.”

  I lifted my chin. “So you still wanna help him?”

  “Jasmine, I cannot discount the fact that he may be my son. But my hopes have been lifted too many times for me to embrace him completely until I know for certain. Still, I cannot let him flounder knowing the chance exists.”

  I nodded. “Okay.” I rubbed my hands together. “Damn, I wish I had a doughnut to throw at him.”

  Vayl smirked. “You enjoy our games, yes?”

  I smiled up at him. “You bet I do.”

  “Then let us finish this one quickly, because I have just thought of another. And it is definitely limited to two players.”

  I let him see the fire in my eyes before I pulled myself together. When I turned around I’d adopted the expression I’d seen almost every morning at the breakfast table during my childhood. Pissedoff mom is only a half step away from bad cop. As soon as I started talking, I’d be there. A little tidbit for you future operatives. Write it down.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Wednesday, June 13, 1:45 a.m.

  Under Raoul’s direction Aaron had dumped his red-tinged bucket of water outside and dried the floor, and was sweeping up wood chips by the time we returned to the front entryway. I had to work to hide my relief, and it didn’t help to recall why. The last time I’d seen my lover’s blood spill beneath his body, it had been because my fiancé, Matt, had taken a knife meant for me. Though he’d been gone for over a year and a half now, I missed him every day. I never wanted to feel that way about my vampire.

  Raoul still sat on the stairs, scratching Jack under the chin just the way he liked it while Astral oversaw all the action from the top of a fourlegged humidor that bridged the gap between the front door and the entry to the billiard room to its right. Vayl had once kept a large fern there, but after the cat had planted herself in the middle of it for the third time, he’d taken her hint and moved it. Since then she’d commandeered four other spots in the house. The fact that they gave her excellent views of the entire floor was, we decided, no accident. Bergman took his security far past the bounds of paranoia, and we had no doubt he’d programmed safety measures into Astral that had yet to be tapped.

  Vayl and I approached Aaron with the same purpose, but with polar-opposite attitudes. I reminded myself to keep all my fun on the inside.

  “We need to ask you a few questions,” Vayl began. “Please join us in the conservatory.” He motioned to the music room, where several glittering bits of light fixture still lay scattered on the Persian rug. As Aaron walked into the room he looked at them, glanced up at the chandelier, and back down at the mess Vayl and I had caused.

  I pointed to the dropped glass and said, “This is what happens when we’re having fun. Just think what I’m gonna break if you piss me off again.”

  He stopped just as he reached the sofa and turned to me, his eyes shuttling nervously between me and Astral, who’d provided the perfect soundtrack for me as she came into the room. Drowning Pool’s song “Bodies” pounded into Aaron’s ears—“Let the bodies hit the floor/Let the bodies hit the floor”—making him shiver as the robokitty sauntered past him, blinking sleepily as she went. She jumped onto the fireplace mantel, placing herself so close to the middle she could’ve been confused for a figurine if she hadn’t chosen that moment to do a test cycle, which made her click like the dial of a washing machine.

  “Can’t you make her stop?” Aaron demanded.

  I shrugged. “She’s programmed to respond to my mood,” I lied. “And right now…” I let myself trail away, smiling dreamily as the song howled through the room and Aaron hunched his shoulders like he thought somebody was about to jump him. All the girls inside my head shrieked with laughter.

  Raoul was having no problem keeping it serious. He’d stayed at the edge of the conservatory, leaning against the archway, while Jack sat at his feet, both of them content to observe first and judge later.

  Aaron had noticed my attention wandering. He asked, �
��Is that your dog?”

  “Why?”

  “You don’t seem like the type who’d like dogs. Or… anything… really.”

  “You got that right. The mutt belongs to my boyfriend.” I patted Vayl on the back and said, “He’s such a softy,” as he crossed to Aaron’s side and motioned that they should sit on the couch beside each other. I stood behind the chair opposite them. At my height it’s tough to loom, but I did my best to seem as if I were the kind of person who, having already broken a light fixture and a display cabinet today, wouldn’t hesitate to toss an easy chair into his lap.

  Vayl settled into the corner of the sofa, making himself comfortable with his arm across the back and one ankle propped on the other knee as he asked, “This haunting you spoke of. I do not understand why my death would end it. Most ghosts simply need closure. Some require a gifted person, such as a medium, to help them fully cross over. I have never heard of one demanding a sacrifice in order to—” He stopped, grimacing at me as I pulled Aaron’s .38 Special out and laid it on the top cushion of the chair. “Must you?” he asked.

  “Oh, yeah,” I said, nodding grimly. “Because you and I both know that Junior here is lying through his teeth.” I waved him off as he started to protest that Aaron was probably under a lot of pressure. I stroked the gun lovingly. “Whoever sent him should’ve told him he’s got the lamest cover story since my brother told my parents he was going waterskiing with his buddies and not one of them owned a boat. Lucky for him our dad wasn’t able to track him down until he’d already enlisted.”

  Aaron stared, predictably thrown off by my detour into family history. He finally responded by saying, “I don’t have a brother.”

  “Yes, you do,” Vayl said.

  “No,” Aaron insisted. “My sister—” He stopped, gulping slightly when Vayl set both feet on the floor and leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped between them. I felt the familiar cold caress of his power as it swirled away from him. He could’ve rammed it down Aaron’s throat, made him tell us every detail of his life right down to the brand of popcorn he preferred. But the possibility of Badu floated over all our heads, and he’d never mind-blast his own son. So he simply told the truth and backed it up with a press of magical assurance so that Aaron would know in his heart that Vayl’s words were genuine.

  He said, “The fact that you are alive and here now proves that your brother’s soul may also be present in this world. The fact that you, of all people, have been sent to kill me, bodes ill for whoever Hanzi is in this lifetime. Because if you fail, your handler will most certainly send him to complete your work. This puts him in terrible danger, both from the people who have trapped you, and from us.” He glanced at me. “We are trained to act first and think second. We may kill him in self-defense before we have the chance to save him.”

  “You’re crazy,” Aaron muttered. “Talking about me like I was actually alive hundreds of years ago. I’m a lawyer. Almost. I deal with facts. Case histories. Precedents. I could never buy some wacko theory like that.”

  “Bullshit,” I said. “You’re the one who thinks he needs to kill a vampire to stop a haunting.”

  “Nobody needs an excuse to smoke vampires!” Aaron exclaimed. “Ask around! I’d be applauded in the streets for flicking another parasite off the ass of humankind!” Then, as if realizing that he was sitting right next to one of the parasites he’d just insulted and maybe he should’ve just kept his big fat mouth shut, Aaron pressed his lips together so hard they looked like a single entity. But not soon enough for me.

  I picked up the revolver in one smooth motion and took a shot. Boom! Aaron screamed as the pillow under his arm jumped and a couple of feathers fluttered into the air. I found myself wishing he’d brought a shotgun. Now that would’ve made a big splash!

  “Jasmine! You shot my couch!”

  “You’re looking at it all wrong, as usual, Vayl. What happened was that I didn’t shoot your kid. Now, be honest, which means more to you?”

  Vayl motioned to Aaron.

  “That’s what I thought. So I’ll buy you a new couch, which will, I promise, be a lot more comfortable than that stiff old backbreaker. I also promise, if this little shit doesn’t start talking I will start taking chunks out of him.” I chambered another round.

  “Don’t tell her, Aaron!” The demand didn’t come from any voice I was familiar with. But Aaron knew it well. He spun in his seat.

  Aaron gasped. “Dad!”

  I let the .38 drop to the floor and risked a look over my shoulder. A man, or rather what was left of him, floated in the corner behind the pianoforte stool, Vayl’s framed collection of Picasso pencil drawings showing clearly through his brown business suit. He held his emaciated hands out, his entire expression echoing the pleading gesture.

  “What’s he doing here?” I asked Vayl and Raoul. “Ghosts are supposed to be rooted to their homeplaces.” I put a hand to my eye, trying to shove back the pain that suddenly exploded there. “Something’s wrong,” I whispered, just as a gout of blood gushed from my right nostril.

  My knees buckled. Vayl caught me and pulled me upright before I could hit the floor. Raoul, only a step behind, had pulled a length of gauze from a first-aid kit I never even knew he carried. He pressed it under my nose and nodded for me to hold it there as I forced my eyes back up to the ghost, who was continuously scratching his forearms like he couldn’t stand the feel of his own skin. I looked up at Vayl as he wrapped his arm around me. “It’s Brude. I can feel him, beating his fists on the walls of my mind. We weren’t supposed to know that he’s done something to the Thin. He’s made it so ghosts can walk. So they can travel long distances. Of course. If he’s going to defeat Lucifer and crown himself king of New Hell he’s gotta be able to transport his armies. He must be behind this. If he kills you, he paralyzes me—” I moaned, not so much from fear of that happening. We’d survived this long for a reason. But because my head felt like Brude had ripped it off and rolled it down Vayl’s stairs.

  “That is not going to happen,” he said.

  “Just because it hasn’t so far—” I put my fingers to my temples and rubbed. It didn’t help. Then Raoul shoved my hands away and took over. The pain began to subside.

  “What do you know about Brude?” Aaron had risen from the couch. He held the pillow in front of him. Aw. Now I was going to have to put it in Vayl’s third-floor armory along with a little plaque with the inscription MOST PATHETIC SHIELD EVER.

  Vayl said, “He is the king of a realm called the Thin. It is a nightmare world where souls sometimes travel, or are trapped, on their way to their final destination.”

  “My dad’s there?” Aaron whispered.

  Vayl answered, “It seems so. We believe that Brude has engineered this entire scene, except for my survival, of course. Because he wants to render Jasmine helpless, at least for the length of time it would take for him to kill her from the inside out.”

  That word “helpless” galvanized me. I stepped away from my nurses, my headache bearable now that Raoul had massaged the worst of it away, my nosebleed on temporary hiatus. It’s gonna take more than that to put me down, suckah. In support, Teen Me did a couple of painfully lame front kicks toward the locked door in my mind behind which Brude paced.

  Please stop, I told her. You may think you’re pulling off Jackie Chan, but the only person you’re reminding me of is that skinny dude from Nacho Libre.

  Aaron’s nose wrinkled as he stared at me, his lawyer’s mind ticking off new facts that were making his mouth twist with disgust. “He’s inside you?”

  “He tried to possess me,” I admitted. “It didn’t work, but I couldn’t boot him out of my psyche either. So I’ve got him trapped. For now. I know how to vanquish him. I was just waiting for this guy to find me the best route into the place.” I nodded to Raoul, who managed to look more anxious than he had just seconds before. As if I needed another reason to worry. Hadn’t his scouts had any success at all?

  “If
you beat Brude, what happens to my dad?” asked Aaron. He winced as Senior wailed in the background.

  “The Thin existed before Brude and it will continue after him,” said Raoul. “But once his hold over your father ends, I can save him.”

  “You?” Aaron looked Raoul over doubtfully. Now I was doubly insulted. First he dissed my vamp. Then he questioned my Spirit Guide. That kind of ignorance only came from years of hard work. And I had no patience for such bigotry.

  I kept my voice low, which should’ve been a warning to him, as I said, “The fact that you took Vayl down before? That was what we call a rookie run. It happens to all newbies. Once. Then most of them get cocky and die. You are in the presence of masters, you little shit. All you have to figure out is whether you want to be standing in the crossfire or watching from the roof when we get down to business.”

  While I waited for him to decide I wondered if I’d gone too far. If, maybe, the ghost of Aaron Senior, and Junior’s shocked blue eyes, would cause Vayl to launch into an “Aw, come on, be nice to my wittle boy” lecture. But when I looked up at him, he leaned down and brushed a kiss onto my cheek. “Have I told you lately what a magnificent woman you are?” he whispered, his breath tickling the lobe of my ear.

  I shook my head, not trusting my voice to stay steady at that precise moment. I cut my gaze to Raoul, who’d been studying the moaning ghost of Senior thoughtfully. When he realized I was watching, he said, “If you needed any more proof that you’ve got Brude scraping the barrel to save his sorry hide, there it is.” He motioned first to the ghost and then to his son. “My scouts still haven’t found a clear path to any of hell’s gates for you yet. But I promise, it’ll be soon.” He pointed to my head. “How much does it hurt and how often?”

  I tried to shrug it off, but a new, piercing pain forced me to grimace instead. I felt Vayl’s arm slide around my waist as I said, “It’s intense when it comes, which is about every other day now.”