Bite Marks

by Jennifer Rardin

  Vayl said, “You have heard of the Rocenz.”

  “Not at all,” Kyphas said, her answer slightly muffled by her pillow.

  “We left you alive for a reason. Perhaps you would like to cooperate long enough to hear it?”

  She sighed. “So what if I have?”

  “It is lost. It is demon made.”

  “And?”

  “That means the most likely creature to find it again will be a demon.”

  “I don’t see how this benefits me.”

  “If you help us find the Rocenz and use it to carve King Brude’s name on the gates of hell, you may have his soul in place of Cassandra’s.” As she began to laugh, and then cough, he raised his hand. She stopped immediately. “He is Lucifer’s Domytr. Your stock would skyrocket at such a catch. We can also give you three souls now serving in the U.S. Senate.”

  “Politicians are Antyrfee’s territory.” Did she sound envious? Why not? Antyrfee must be rolling in souls.

  “But you would have the inside track,” Vayl said. “We know them. You could probably snare all three within a week.”

  Kyphas looked up at Vayl, though the pain caused her to wince. “Antyrfee’s never turned that many around so fast.” She paused. “What do you have against these three?”

  “They tried to suspend Jasmine after our last mission. Friends of mine talked them out of that decision”—by that he meant that his old Trust buddies Admes and Niall had dangled the Oversight Committee members from their roofs by their heels—“but politicians ooze more slime than slugs. I expect them to wriggle out of the deal sooner rather than later. I have researched this particular group. They possess no redeeming qualities. They are exactly your type. And think what status their souls would gain you among your peers.”

  “You’d be popular,” said Cole.

  “I’d settle for accepted. Do you know how long… looong, they’ve been making fun of me over this Cassandra issue?”

  “It is a four-for-one offer with us aiding you. What do you say?”

  She sighed. Went quiet for so long I thought she’d nodded off. “I’ll draw up a contract,” she finally mumbled.

  Vayl reached over his shoulder to Raoul, who handed him a scrolled sheet of ivory paper. “We already have.”

  In our business you learn to appreciate the lulls. Now that we had Kyphas under contract we didn’t need to worry about demon ambushes anymore. It should’ve been a somewhat relaxing time, waiting for Ruvin and Cassandra to return while we watched the clock tick off the minutes until we had to leave for the next phase of our original assignment.

  Bergman had finally scrubbed himself to a shade of pink that satisfied his sense of outrage. He’d retreated to the room across from Kyphas’s that he was sharing with Cole, closing the door so firmly we got the message as if he’d yelled it. Don’t mess with me. I’m still pissed.

  Cole and Raoul took turns showering and guarding Cassandra’s demon while Vayl and I sat in the dining room, tending each other’s wounds. Mine needed stitches. Vayl’s would’ve put me in intensive care. But by the time I’d cleaned all the blood off only two of the deepest needed bandages.

  “I like it that you can survive shit like this,” I said. I taped some gauze over the second slash on his chest and sat back in my chair.

  “It is one of my favorite, ah, as you say, perks of being Vampere.” He rested an arm on the table, tapping his fingers as he watched me through half-closed lids.

  “What?”

  Slow release of breath, like the hiss of steam from a volcanic vent. “I sit here, half dressed and triumphant from battle, waiting for you to share my usual enthusiasm. And you… do not respond.” Invitation in the silk of his voice. And behind that, pain. As if I’d rejected him outright.

  If I hadn’t felt so exhausted I might’ve jumped and run. Because Brude’s wasn’t the only voice telling me, This will never last. You suck at relationships. The only man who understood you, who could put up with your crap, is dead. And you don’t have the energy to try again. It’s too hard to be half of a couple. Too scary. Get out before—

  I lunged forward, wrapped my hands around Vayl’s back and kissed him so hard that I could still feel the tingle ten minutes later. When I finally came up for air I said, “I feel like hell. I’m still schlubbing around in blood-soaked clothes, itching like a kindergartner with chicken pox, and so worried about Bergman I’m considering sending him home. But no matter what happens, I will always want you.”

  His smile, slow and wicked, let me know I’d said at least one thing right. “A shower for you, then, and a new layer of lotion.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” I crawled off his lap, where I seemed to have landed sometime during our mini-makeout session. “Uh, I was wondering.”

  He reached for his shirt, held it up, shook his head regretfully, and tossed it into the corner trash can. “Yes?”

  “What did you think of Bergman’s offer?”

  His eyes, when they rested on me, turned a warm amber as he said, “If you would be happier working with him, so be it.”

  I backed up a step. He might as well have suggested we move in together. “Just like that?”

  Rising so deliberately that I could see the muscles bunch and relax in his shoulders and chest, he took my hand and lifted it to his lips. Every finger got a light caress. Then he kissed Cirilai solemnly before looking up into my eyes, his own telling me things only my heart could understand. “We are sverhamin and avhar now. That means we walk in our own Trust. Together.”

  “For how long?”

  His brow arched. “Who asks me this? The child of divorce? The bereft fiancé? The world-weary assassin?”

  “How long, Vayl?”

  He pressed my hands against the hard expanse of his chest. “Do you feel my heart?”

  “Yes.” It beat so slowly that only a power we humans acknowledged as other could move it at all.

  “When it stops, I will still come for you. When I am reduced to my essence, it will not be complete until it has melded with yours. I will never leave you.”

  I sighed. “Cool.”

  “But now I have to prove myself,” Vayl replied.

  I shrugged. “People exchange marriage vows all the time. Ten years later half of them end up divorced.”

  He nodded. “But then you must give me the chance. That means no more throwing Cirilai in my face, and no more running from us.”

  “I wasn’t—” I stopped at his don’t-shit-me expression. “Okay, I might’ve been thinking about running. But I didn’t actually throw on the shoes.”

  “It is a start.”

  “Thank you. And as a gesture of goodwill, let me offer you first crack at the shower now that Raoul and Cole are done.”

  “I would, but I am afraid my old-fashioned sensibilities would be mortally wounded if I were to avail myself of the facilities before the lady.”

  “What did you just say?”

  “Go ahead. You are filthier.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  Twenty minutes later I understood why dogs shook themselves after baths. Because it felt good to be clean! So good you wanted to just, bbbggghhh. I changed into a pair of hunter-green jeans and a velvety red scoop-neck top. Unfortunately my boots had given their all protecting my legular regions in my last battle. Which meant I had to resort to backup footwear—a pair of black cross-trainers, the laces of which Jack had chewed and partially digested before deciding he didn’t like them after all.

  Cole and Raoul looked up from a somewhat heated discussion as I joined them in the living room. Since they’d commandeered the couch, I pulled a chair over to the side, where I could see out the sliding-glass doors to check on the dog every once in a while. I leaned back and crossed my legs in front of me.

  Cole immediately began to laugh. “What happened to your shoes?”

  After observing my deformed, slightly shredded laces I decided to change the subject. “I’ll tell you if you explain that shirt.”

&n
bsp; He looked down at his tee, which depicted a Neanderthal dragging his club across a rocky plain. In the distance a bunch of prehistoric emus were thumbing their wings at him. The caption read, i can’t wait for kfc.

  He said, “It was all I had that was clean. Now you.”

  Raoul said, “Jack got into your closet, didn’t he? Don’t they sell bones for dogs to chew on nowadays? And toys?”

  “I felt sorry for him because he’d just gotten back from the vet, okay? I figured letting him gnaw on my shoelaces was the least I could do. He seemed so… depressed.”

  “I told you!” Cole exclaimed. “You never should’ve had him snipped!”

  “It wasn’t the surgery!” I snapped. “He met this schnauzer named Eetza while he was in there and they kind of got attached. You know how it goes.”

  “Ah. She broke his heart.”

  “I don’t know. He just seemed to miss her. He kept going to the door and licking it. And now, with Astral’s head blowing off in his face, I’ll be lucky if I’m not barefoot by the time I get home.” I tucked my feet under my chair. “Okay, now I’m getting bummed. Can we please talk about something else?”

  Raoul and Cole exchanged secretive glances. I said, “Yeah, that. Whatever you were up to, I want in.”

  “You don’t even know the details!” Cole protested.

  “It’s gotta be shady enough that you don’t want to discuss it with me. But Raoul’s dealing, so it can’t be evil. And that’s exactly what I need right now. Come on, you probably need a third.”

  “Only if Vayl’s okay with it,”

  “Okay with what?” asked Vayl. Who looked, well, the word “edible” came to mind as he stood at the end of the hallway, drying his hair with a fluffy white towel as he moved his eyes from Cole to Raoul to me. Would it be rude to turn my chair completely around and just gawk? I mean, he was kind of inviting stares by coming in all clean and damp, wearing those ass-grabbing jeans and nothing else. I scratched at my knees and wished for x-ray vision.

  “Okay with what?” Vayl repeated, a little louder and a lot more sternly.

  Raoul sat up, his camo jacket (of which he seemed to have an endless supply) nearly snapping to attention as he straightened. “I’ve agreed to help Cole find and pet a kangaroo. They like to feed at night. I don’t think it will be too difficult.”

  Vayl made a noise. Eventually we decided it was laughter.

  “You are going to get your face caved in,” he told Cole. “And because of that, one of us should probably go along to make sure Pete gets the full report on your demise. Since I have no desire to wander the countryside, I will stay with Bergman and guard Kyphas. If that is all right with you?” he asked me, his eyebrows raised.

  I sighed, moving my nails up to my thighs. “I could use some exercise.” What I didn’t add was, since I can’t jump your bones, and I really wanna wail on Kyphas, and Bergman’s problem is driving me slightly batso.

  He nodded. “So be it.”

  Which was how Jack and I found ourselves trailing two men who’d totally flipped their lids: the former ranger who thought he’d been transported to Candyland if the enthusiasm in his bated whispers were any clue; and the doof who hadn’t learned his lesson after a bout of camel-tipping in Iran.

  “It’s dark,” I whispered.

  “It’s after eleven,” Cole whispered back.

  “We don’t even have flashlights. How are we supposed to find kangaroos in the dark without flashlights?”

  “You and I are both wearing Bergman’s night-vision lenses and Raoul can probably see better with his eyes closed. Besides, they’ll be by water. Or food. Or both. Didn’t you ever watch Kangaroo Jack?”

  “Yeah. But I saw Crocodile Dundee too. Don’t you think they’ll be worried about becoming a midnight snack if they loiter by the river at night?”

  “We’re following a freaking Eldhayr! We’ll find them!” he hissed. “What is your problem?”

  “You mean besides the possession, worrying about Bergman and Cassandra, and saving the space program so her vision won’t haul off and kick us in the ass?”

  “Yeah!”

  “My butt itches,” I admitted.

  “Well, deal with it! I’m sure not going to watch!”

  So I did, and thought about how low I’d sunk. Scratching my ass like a beer-swilling, pot-bellied La-Z-lounger as I slunk through the foothills west of Wirdilling. Although, once I’d relieved the worst of my irritation, I realized the hills looked pretty nifty given the shades of gold and burgundy my contacts added to them, like a bowl full of mint ice cream scoops topped by waves of sugar-coated cinnamon sticks.

  Even without our Miles-vision we’d have had an easy walk. At least at first. The hills had been grazed so close they traveled like a putting green. Yeah, we encountered some rocks and a few dips and folds. But compared to some of the bush I’d hacked through, this was pudding. Of course, I knew a devastating fire had done most of the clearing for us several years before. And as we climbed, we began to see its remains in the charred trunks of the pine trees that had once dotted the landscape.

  Jack whuffed. Not a bark, but definitely a pay attention noise that stopped us. We stood silent, peering into the night. Then Raoul raised an arm, pointing to a copse of grass trees. They stood about sixty paces from us, looking eerily like a group of fingers tipped with frothy green rings. Behind one thick-trunked specimen, standing absolutely still and staring right back at us, was a large kangaroo.

  I kept watching. Yeah, now I could see more. Probably fifteen in this group, including four or five pouch-free joeys. Most of them were too busy eating to have noticed the small sound Jack had made.

  Teen Me squealed. Sew kewl! I rolled my eyes. But I did have to agree. Because, holy crap, were they large!

  When the first roo began to graze again, Raoul crept forward, motioning for us to follow. I moved my hand around toward my back. My jacket creaked and Raoul jerked his head toward me. Parallel reaction from Cole. I shrugged, dropping my hand, trying to ignore the growing prickles that felt like my rash had erected tents and dug a fire pit.

  Raoul motioned first to himself, then to me.

  What?

  He made the motion again.

  No! Have you seen how big these hoppers are? I thought we were going after, you know, little ones!

  Again with the motion, this time insistent and combined with a jab from Cole’s elbow. I sighed and nodded. I’d play up to a certain point, but no way was I going to get up close and personal with a creature whose feet looked like they were made specifically to crush my spine!

  Raoul and I split, taking opposite tracks around to the back of the herd. Cole began to move forward. I gathered the plan was for him to try the pettage on his own. But if it didn’t work, Raoul and I were supposed to spook the roos into hopping toward him, in which case he’d have multiple shots at success.

  I finally found a spot I liked where I could observe the landscape from between the split fingers of a grass tree. Jack sat beside me, his ears twitching as he followed the action. Which was progressing, but slowly. Cole now crouched within reach of a five-foot female that seemed completely occupied with her meal. At least he’d picked one that was too young for motherhood. Maybe, without that protect-the-baby imperative riding her, she wouldn’t try to cave his skull in when he touched her. Maybe she’d just squeal and run.

  He stretched out his hand. His fingers were so close to her shoulder you couldn’t have slipped a bar of soap between them when the female startled, veered away, and ran. The whole mob caught her mood and suddenly they were on the move.

  Raoul leaped up from his hiding place, yelling, “Ha! Move! Hop! That’s it!” Pause. “Jasmine, they’re coming toward you!”

  But it wasn’t organized like a cow stampede. Fifteen kangaroos had chosen fifteen different directions out of that copse, and I was only guarding one exit.

  A big male hopped at me, looking surprised and somewhat pissed. An expression I found eerily fami
liar. But that was no help, and I couldn’t imagine how me yelling like a cowboy with his nuts in a wringer was going to turn the animal around. In fact, I kinda thought I was going to get pummeled. So I drew Grief and took a shot. Relax, I made sure it hit the ground.

  Actually a couple of the roos did too. The sound must’ve scared them so much that they lost their footing. But they found it again and decided, as a group, that it should lead them away from me. At least three of them agreed that meant they should hop toward Cole. But this wasn’t a leisurely stroll. This was run-for-your-life-dammit! They pounded toward him, covering six feet at a stretch. And he just stood there, grinning.

  “Move, you fool!” I yelled.

  “Good thinking!” he shouted back, wheeling around so he could pace the group for the fraction of a second it would take to claim his prize.

  I watched him reach for a male the size of a giraffe. And then another roo veered into him, sending him rolling like a skater who’s just missed his board.

  Raoul and I ran up to him together, but before either of us could reach him he’d bounced back to his feet. “Did you see that? Was that not the most awesome moment ever? Tell me you saw that!”

  “Yeah, yeah. You do know you’re lucky to be alive, right?” I asked.

  Cole dusted off his jeans, which had developed holes in both knees. “What’s your point?”

  “I…” I looked at Raoul, who was wearing the same this-kicks-ass expression on his face that I saw on Cole’s. “I’m just saying, you missed.”

  “I know. That means we’ve got the whole thing to do over again.” Cole held up his fist and Raoul, who was apparently a close observer of modern gestures, gave it an enthusiastic bump with his own. Which was why I dropped the protest.

  I don’t get guys half the time. But—I smiled to myself as we turned back for the house—they can be awful damn fun.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  When we got back to the house, the Wheezer was parked in the drive beside Ruvin’s Jeep. Cole raced to the front door and threw it open. Vayl and Ruvin, who’d been sitting on the couch, talking quietly, jerked their heads toward him.