Bitten to Death

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Bitten to Death Page 11

by Jennifer Rardin


  “Maybe it’s the werebear’s people, taking their revenge on the Trust for what they did to him.”

  “I don’t think so,” I said. “He promised me he wouldn’t do anything until after we wrapped up our mission.”

  “And you think he’s going to keep his word?” Dave asked, raising a cynical brow.

  “Yeah, I . . .” I glanced at Vayl. “You know what, maybe not. It turns out I’m not the best judge of character.”

  Vayl rose to his feet, his brows banging together like thunderheads. “You are so—”

  “What?” I demanded.

  He stopped. Took a breath. “Never mind.” I couldn’t read the look he gave me. Decided I didn’t want to. Facts are facts, folks. He was connected to Disa supernaturally. Every moment I was with him now, knowing that, it felt like she was in the room too. And it made me want to kick something.

  Dave looked from him to me and back again. He patted down his pockets, found them empty, and dropped his hands. “Maybe I’ll go check out the rooms where the fires started,” he said. “See what they have in common.” Under his breath I heard him add, “Like being away from you two,” as he exited the room, leaving Vayl and me to share a long, cold silence.

  After a few tense moments Vayl fixed his eyes on mine and said, “If your bolt had flown, you would have destroyed me tonight.” He brushed some dust off the knee of his slacks, giving me time to compute. Nope, it just wouldn’t key in. I had to hear it again.

  “What?”

  “The bonds that tie Maker and mate stretch beyond contractual obligation. For the next fifty years, if one of us dies, so will the other.”

  I realized I was shaking my head. Denial. The story of my life. I dropped my gaze to the floor. “Vayl, I never wanted—” I stopped, because suddenly he stood in front of me, close as a shadow. When I looked into his eyes I realized they’d finally changed—to the dark purple of a new bruise.

  “Tell me, Jasmine,” he demanded, his voice as hoarse as Rastus’s had been after having been pierced by a blade. “Why is it that after sticking Grief in Disa’s gut and pulling the trigger, you are no longer willing to fight for us?”

  The wall behind my back felt like it was rippling, but I knew it was my own dizzy desire to throw myself into Vayl’s arms. Which made no sense. Wasn’t I still pissed at him? “Niall made the situation sound hopeless,” I told him. “So did you, for that matter.”

  His hand came to my face, brushed my cheek and down to my neck. I fought the urge to reach out, sink my fingers into his flesh. He said, “Yes. It seemed that way at first. And then I looked into your eyes and remembered that you and I have never failed anything we set out to accomplish together.”

  “Your eyes just turned. They’ve been brown up to now. Do you think that means something?”

  He cocked his head thoughtfully. “Indeed.”

  I dropped my gaze to his lips. Too tempting. Down to the V of his open shirt. Nope, too sexy. I closed my eyes. “I can’t think straight, dammit. There was something I wanted to tell you before. About this house. In fact, the entire Trust. The masks. The masks were throbbing.”

  I opened my eyes when his hands dropped to his sides. “Some sort of spell,” he muttered.

  “What?”

  “That must be it. I can feel it working on me even as we speak. Like an itch, but not as strong now that I have identified it. Disa has been plotting, just like the old days. Of course. That is why she bound me! The underhanded little shrew!”

  I nodded. “Yeah. Yes, that was it! Remember you told me before we came that we’d have to be careful? Well, you were right. This place is fucking with us, Vayl, I’m sure of it.” Before the thoughts could skitter out of my mind again I told him what I’d realized about the power of the Trust. “That fight we just had, I’ll bet that was part of it too. It’s messing with our heads. Divide and conquer, you know?”

  Vayl had begun pacing back and forth in front of the fountain, tapping his fingers against his thigh. He didn’t demand proof, thank goodness. That gut wrencher we’d just been through must’ve been enough to convince him. “We are being manipulated, no doubt about it. Disa wants me to rejoin the Trust, that is clear. But as to the reason—I have no idea.”

  “You mean beside the fact that she’s in love with you?”

  Vayl’s jaw dropped. He looked so comical that I couldn’t help but smile. “No.” He shook his head. Adamantly. Like a guy who can’t believe Congress has raised taxes again.

  “Yeah, I think so.” My hands ached to reach up to that face, smooth out the creases of consternation. I dropped them. Why do I do that? I suddenly wondered. What’s wrong with comforting someone you care for?

  My inner bitch put down the mai tai she’d been glugging and winked at the bartender before pointing a wavering finger in my general direction. It’s not that part you’re worried about, ya’idiot. It’s the caring. ’Cause they always end up dead on the floor—or in Studly’s case, poof—before you even have a chance to give them their Christmas presents.

  Why should I listen to you? I demanded. What kind of character leads a person in the right direction even as she adjusts her thong and tries to remember if the condoms are in her purse or the glove box of her Corvette?

  Why are you asking me? she demanded. You’re the one who’s fucked up!

  No argument there.

  “So. What next?” My mouth felt dry. As I wished for a beer, I realized Dave had probably gone somewhere to snitch a bottle of booze. Which meant, as soon as I confiscated it from him, I’d have something to wet my whistle with. Unless . . . nope, this round was definitely not going down the drain.

  Vayl gazed down at me. “The ball is in your court, as they say.”

  “It is?”

  His eyes darkened. Oops. Even when I wasn’t trying, I pissed him off. Well, damn, it would help if he’d stop emitting that bone-melting, come-jump-me vibe. How was I supposed to concentrate with the Trust hammering at one side of my brain while a wild woman panted for Vayl on the other, stomping and screaming like the tipsy maid of honor at a Chippendales show?

  As I stood there, fighting for balance, gazing at the ring I’d abandoned as it nestled against Vayl’s chest, Dave walked in. I made myself inhale. Concentrated on my lungs filling with clean, clear air. Or the closest I was going to get considering my less-than-antiseptic surroundings.

  Okay, just concentrate on the mission. It’s really important you get this right. Think of the lives you could save if you nail Samos. If you keep that in the front of your head, everything else will somehow fall into line. Won’t it? Yeah. Maybe. As long as you don’t panic. I shoved my hand in my pocket, felt Matt’s ring slip around my pinky, quickly followed by a sense of peace. I hadn’t lost that token. And some of him still remained, forever part of me, undiminished by time and distance. I felt myself straighten, realized my chin had lifted as I stared Vayl straight in the eye.

  I’ll do whatever it takes to win, I told him silently.

  His nod, a barely perceptible bob of the head, gave me his answer. That is what I wanted to hear.

  I watched Dave edge into the room, looking from Vayl’s face to mine as he tried to gauge our moods. When I managed a smile he visibly relaxed.

  “I didn’t make it far,” Dave said. “Only got to look around the garage long enough to figure out the fire started right in the middle of a huge pool of blood before Tarasios intercepted me and demanded to know what I was doing snooping around outside.”

  I considered checking Dave’s breath to see if he’d been sampling the schnapps before he got here. “That makes no sense. How could a fire start in liquid?”

  “No clue,” Dave replied. “But that’s where it was.”

  “Weird.” A spidery sense of unease navigated my stomach. The fire’s location reminded me of the drippy face, which I still wanted badly to suppress. Could it have had something to do with the blaze?

  Dave went on. “Tarasios was really pissed, and I got the feeling
it wasn’t just because I was checking out the fire damage. He kept muttering about being taken for granted and just giving and giving and see what he gets?”

  “I think he’s just been dumped,” I said as evenly as I could.

  “Well, that would explain it.”

  Vayl dropped into one of the wicker chairs, making it creak like an arthritic old man. “This is ridiculous.”

  “Disa’s crush on you, or the fact that she’s trying to trap you?” I asked.

  “Both!”

  Dave’s grin doesn’t surface often, but when it appears, the entire room pretty much dances. My own mood lightened by several shades as he said, “Hey, Vayl, if she asks you to prom, I know a great limo service you can use.”

  Vayl’s slumped shoulders and crossed arms made him so resemble a honked-off teen that Dave laughed. “This is serious!” Vayl declared.

  “Of course it is,” Dave said soothingly. “That’s why I am not signing her yearbook.”

  Vayl shot out of his chair. “You are incorrigible!”

  Dave held up his hands. “Whoa, calm down, buddy, I’m just teasing. Plus, I don’t even know what that means.” He glanced at me. “Do I?”

  “Constipated?” I guessed.

  Dave shrugged. “I would’ve said it had something to do with my top-notch spitting skills.” He hawked and blew a wad of jaw-juice right into the fountain. “Did you see that?” he demanded. “Nothing but net.”

  “I’d point out how disgusting that was, but considering the state of the water, you’ve probably just dramatically improved the pH. Speaking of which, you’re in a good mood.”

  “I finally got a hold of Cassandra.” He gave me a significant look. “She doesn’t hate me yet. Plus”—he gestured to his black T-shirt—“I finally got time to change.”

  “Good deal.” I looked at Vayl. “You know, Disa not hating you could be a point of strength for us. If you’d care to use it to your advantage.”

  Vayl had gone to the bookshelf, where he was alternately picking up and putting down doodads. “I want nothing to do with her!” he said, setting one of the little statues down so hard that it broke. “Now see what you made me do?”

  “Actually, I felt something when that happened,” I told him. I went over and picked up another figurine, a fat naked chick with gigantic mammaries. My hands tingled as I held the piece. It oozed power. They all did. Even the books. Just like the masks I’d seen in the villa’s entryway, only not enough for me to sense until one had broken and sparked a response in the others. When I told the guys about it, they tried to feel what I meant. But neither of them reacted as I had.

  “Okay, so you can’t perceive the power directly,” I said to Vayl. “But this is more proof of what we’ve been talking about. It could even be the source of that itch. What if the binding Disa set on you is powered by the objects in this villa?”

  “What are you suggesting?” asked Dave. “That if we smash everything in this mansion we break the Mating bond?”

  I sighed. “No. I don’t know. I’m just saying.”

  Vayl nodded. “This is good,” he said. “We might be able to do something with this.” He considered the broken pieces with a look so piercing I almost expected them to disintegrate. He nodded. “Excellent work, Jasmine.”

  Before I could stop myself, I put my hand on his arm, let my fingers wrap around the smooth curve of his biceps. His eyes tracked to mine, their icy blue interest making me blink, as if I’d just walked out into a blizzard. “Thanks. You . . . you hardly ever compliment me. And I like it when you do.” I dropped my hand. Holy crap, was that ever hard. I think I’d rather chase a murderer through a ghetto full of gangbangers!

  The corners of his lips rose. “Then I will be sure to do it more often.”

  Dave clapped his hands together, making me jump. Vayl just looked at him inquiringly. “Now that we all know what an ace assistant Jaz is, can we review the plan? I’ve got places to go. People to see.” He patted his pockets again and checked his watch. He figured we’d think he was joking. But I could tell he still wanted to snag himself some liquid Valium. My first reaction? Kick him, hard, in the shins.

  Instead I said, “I’m free.”

  Dave took a seat by the fountain, where we joined him. He gestured to Vayl. “It’s your baby. You start.”

  Vayl bowed his head slightly as he said, “Unwisely, Hamon allowed Samos to dictate the details of their first meeting. It is set for one hour after dusk, to occur in a place called the Odeum. Hamon must have felt safe in agreeing to the spot, since it is somewhat in his territory, but Disa tells me it is an ancient amphitheater. I do not need to tell you how vulnerable we would be once Samos had us sitting on that pit of a stage with a stone backdrop on one side and seating marching up a steep hilltop on the others.”

  “You act like we’re really going to negotiate with this guy,” Dave said.

  “Not at all,” Vayl replied. “But we have to be able to terminate him in such a way that everyone in the Trust can escape unscathed.”

  There it was again, one of those words that reminded me that Vayl had never quite moved beyond his past. I admitted to myself that I partied a little every time I recalled that fact. Because he’d held on to a lot of the good stuff. And some of the bad. But now, watching him work, I felt something vital was missing that had been a part of his long march through history.

  Vayl went on. “Because eliminating him at the Odeum would be too dangerous, we must force Samos to a different location. One that we can control. Once we have accomplished that, our mission should run smoothly.”

  “And that’s where the dog comes in,” Dave put in.

  “Indeed,” Vayl agreed. “We must gain possession of it well before tomorrow night’s meeting. And when I say we . . .”

  “You mean Jasmine and me,” Dave finished.

  Vayl nodded. “We did agree the wisest time to take Samos’s malamute would be when its master and his strongest people are at rest, leaving only his human guardians to contend with.”

  “And here’s where you lose me,” Dave said. “Because I just don’t get why a guy as villainous as you say Samos is would risk his power play to get a dog back.”

  I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees, clasping my hands together as my mind went back to the vision I’d had of our target. The one that had led us to this assignment and this moment. “Do you remember when I told you about the time Raoul took me to hell?” I asked my brother.

  His sharp nod told me the less I said about that discussion the better. Because it had involved the fact that I’d met our mother there. “I had a vision of Samos during that trip,” I said. “He was trying to make a pact with a demon called the Magistrate. But in order for it to work, he had to give up something incredibly precious to him. His dog. In the end, he refused to do it.”

  “But how do you know the dog really means that much to him?”

  “The Magistrate knew. And look, I had to give something up in order to gain that vision. Something that meant the world to me.” I stopped, mainly so I wouldn’t start bawling. Dave wouldn’t understand how much I missed my playing cards. How the whisper of the bridge, the slap of the shuffle, had worked on me like coke on a junkie. “I promise you, Samos loves that dog like our sister adores her baby girl. We get that malamute, we can play him like a drum.”

  “And Disa’s fine with this plan?” he asked.

  Vayl paused, as if trying to think of a tactful way to put his next few words. He shook his head. “She believes you and Jasmine will fail, in which case you will die, which is her ideal. With you two dead and me bound, she wins.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  I thought about Disa getting her way like some spoiled brat who’s managed to cruise through life on Mommy’s looks and Daddy’s Visa. And the more I considered, the hotter I got. She thinks she’s got us all right where she wants us, huh? It’s too bad somebody didn’t rip her face off when—my thoughts halted as somewhere in the house an alar
m went off.

  STOP STARTING FIRES! The voice of my Spirit Guide, booming at me across the planes of our existences like a mountain with a megaphone, sounded disgusted. Like I was some kind of arsonist or something!

  It’s not me, Raoul!

  YES, IT IS.

  Even if I thought I was capable, which I don’t, why would I be doing that?

  YOU TELL ME.

  I thought about how I’d been feeling before the alarms went off. And about my overall mood lately. Well, I suppose I have been a little . . . wound up . . . recently. I’ve got a stressful job, don’t I? And now that I don’t have cards as an outlet. Or sex. Or drinking, drugs, gambling . . . You know what? How about you just leave me the hell alone? If I could set stuff on fire with my mind, I should be allowed to burn down the whole damn villa if I feel like it!

  Amusement in his tone now. YOU DON’T MEAN THAT.

  Why was it that everybody knew me better than I knew myself? Un-freaking-fair.

  Okay, maybe not. Inner sigh. So what are you saying? I’ve developed some sort of mental Aim ’n’ Flame? And it just goes off arbitrarily?

  NOTHING RANDOM ABOUT YOUR TINDER.

  I recalled that both times the fires had started I’d been mad as hell. But apparently instead of steam coming out my ears, I’d caused flames to pop up in my least favorite stomping grounds.

  What am I supposed to do? I asked Raoul in utter frustration.

  CONTROL YOURSELF.

  That was easy for him to say. If he didn’t have to fight creeping evil every time he turned around, he’d probably be a saint by now. However, since he could probably fry my brain just by clearing his throat, I decided to cooperate. Self-control would be a cinch if Disa was dead, so I tried to calm myself with an imaginary montage starring both of us. Wouldn’t it be awesome if we could do a little Cartoon Network scene where I blew her up with TNT, dropped her off a mountain, ran her over with a steamroller, and catapulted her into the side of Rockefeller Center, after which she would get up, stumble around groggily for a few seconds, shake it off, and then impale herself on my lance-sized stake? Ahh, if life was only like television. I’d certainly feel better. In fact, just fantasizing about it elevated my mood.

 

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