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Jaz Parks 5 - One More Bite

Page 11

by Jennifer Rardin


  Vayl trotted up the stairëed hees. They led us into the herb garden. We could hear the engine now. “Sounds like an ATV,” I said.

  “It’s a Honda Big Red,” said Albert. “You’ve seen those? They’re like mini Jeeps with two seats up front, a roll bar, and a small bed in back to haul things with.”

  “I get the picture,” I said. “Where are you?”

  “I’m by the barn, looking in through a crack in the outer wall. Four women inside that I can see. Dormal and Floraidh on the Big Red, the other two opening the back door for them. You’d better hustle. They’re backing out right now.”

  We ran. “Do you see Cole?” asked Vayl.

  “I’ve got the wrong angle. There’s definitely something in the bed of that thing, but it’s hard to tell what from here.”

  As the distance closed between us and the barn, the Scidairans suddenly came into view. They’d turned the Big Red toward the path we’d taken to get to Tearlach during our Ghost-Walk. Hard to tell where they were headed. The cemetery? Clava Cairns? The castle and its plane-hopping doorway? Who cared? We didn’t intend to let them get to the tree line.

  I realized I needed a hand free to work my weapon, so I dropped Jack’s leash, which had become taut enough as we ran that I realized he couldn’t keep up with us anyway. I pulled Grief, estimating the first moment I could fire and hope to hit my target. The part of me that hadn’t yet folded down into assassin mode noted Cole’s legs, clothed in ripped jeans and his favorite red high-tops, dangling over the edge of the vehicle’s bed, and realized he would be so pissed if he was conscious. In fact, he’d probably be saying something like, “This is just my luck. I couldn’t get nabbed by some high-class level of criminal who wears bling and rides in limos. No. I have to be kidnapped by the cast of Bewitched.”

  Speaking of bling, was that glitter I saw reflecting from Floraidh’s neck Humphrey’s forgotten creation? I was thinking so. But before I could figure out how to make that vulnerability work for us, I hit a brick wall and landed flat on my ass. At which point Jack trotted up to me and sniffed my forehead as if to say, “See what you get for leaving me behind?”

  I looked up. Whatever I’d hit had no visible boundaries. All I could see, with every one of my senses maxed out, was a slight bend in the horizon, as if I were viewing it from a telescope. And, of course, now that I wasn’t zeroed in on Cole I could smell the spell that had flung me down.

  Vayl hadn’t been dumped, but he had been stunned. He stood a couple of arms’ lengths to one side of me, hands on his knees, slowly shaking his head.

  I turned back to search for the cause of our blockage. There, at the corner of the barn. The other two women Albert had mentioned. I recognized one as the girl we’d seen manning the Tearlach table at GhostCon. The other was a fiftyish spinster with a forgettable face who must’ve decided taking care of her mother as she slowly faded from life wasn’t quite as fulfilling as she’d anticipated. So why not bow down to an evil sorceress on the side?

  They wore long indigo dresses that clung like spiderwebs as they moved their hands through motions that reminded me eerily of the Raisers who’d inadvertently caused me a shitload of trë shs touble already. These motions, however, demanded where the Raisers pleaded. Their fingers jabbed, their fists punched, the sides of their hands sliced through the air as if to cut through the fabric of the planet itself. And the Raisers had steered wide of introducing sacrifice into their act. I couldn’t tell what had once animated the lump bleeding on the ground between Floraidh’s rear guard, but I suddenly felt like the most irresponsible pet owner ever, bringing Jack into a situation where animals his size ended up lying limp and lifeless so that wicked shitbricks could progress.

  He didn’t seem too happy about the deal either. His ears laid back as he caught the scent of the carcass. Or maybe it was the Scidairan chant that put him off. It did sound like it had been written by someone who enjoyed the noise of whiny two-year-olds.

  I shivered, realizing that the wintry lifting of Vayl’s powers was only part of the reason. I’m over my head this time, I thought. These women are going to fry us like moths in a bug zapper and there’s not a damn thing we can do to stop them. Still, I struggled to my feet. Better to die upright than flat on your tush, that’s what Granny May always used to say. Though why she’d ever had cause to develop that philosophy I had no idea. Too bad she wasn’t here to pour more pearls of wisdom into my empty brain. It could’ve used some bright ideas right about now.

  As if he could read my mind Vayl murmured, “These cannot be full coven members. Floraidh will need those for whatever she has planned for Cole. These are novices, Jasmine. We can beat them.”

  “With what?” I whispered. “How do you battle something whose weapons you can’t even see?” We’d never had to kill a Scidairan before, dammit. Pete saved those kinds of hits for our warlock.

  He came to stand at my shoulder. “Use what you know. And then improvise.”

  I took a deep breath. And yelled, “Love those outfits, girls! You look like a couple of litmus test strips. Yo, Vayl, did we bring the acid? Let’s turn these bitches red!”

  Anybody with even a week of field experience wouldn’t have missed a step. But these bimbettes must’ve come fresh from the Scidair School of World-Ripping. They both hesitated. And in that moment, as it so often does during the most violent times of my life, everything slowed down as everyone moved at once.

  Albert stepped out from hiding, swinging some sort of club at the shorter of the two Scidairans.

  She fell to her knees as her partner spun to face this new threat. I hoped the shock of Albert’s attack would send her into instinctual attack mode. If she just jumped him, he’d be fine. Even at his age he could pound the crap out of men twice his size. Unfortunately she kept her cool. Sweeping her power from the shield that had barred us, she shoved it at my dad, throwing him into the barn’s wall. He crumpled to the ground.

  Already halfway to them, Grief in one hand, my bolo in the other, I kept one eye on Albert and the other on the girls. The one he’d felled was stirring, moaning. The other had begun to turn back to me. Thank God! Albert moved. But it was to clutch one hand to his chest. Shit!

  Vayl swept past me, grabbing my hand on the way and holding our arms outstretched. We cëstr>

  “No,” said Vayl. “Remember the mission.”

  For a second I couldn’t. Not even the part about why we had to work it in Scotland. All I wanted was to shoot that black heart full of steel, guarantee that nobody else’s dad would ever suffer a heart attack because this twisted bit of snot couldn’t see the good in anything. Then Albert belched.

  “Ahh, that’s better. Did you see that, Jaz? She knocked the breath right out of me!”

  As I turned my head, my neck aching with the effort it took to hold up my unbelieving brain, Vayl said, “Albert, can you find some rope? We must not leave them free to roam while we chase after Cole.”

  I watched Albert struggle to his feet, his knees seeming to be more of a problem than the blows he’d taken from the Scidairan. As soon as he disappeared into the barn I said, “I always suspected he was indestructible. Now I know it.”

  However, when he didn’t immediately return I started to wonder if I’d spoken too soon. “You two might want to come in here,” Albert finally said.

  Nodding to one another, we each grabbed a girl and shook them awake. I’d chosen the smaller one, who came to all at once. She sat up, grabbing her head and screeching like a pissed-off parrot.

  “Be quiet,” I said as I grabbed her wrists and shoved them high enough on her back that she squawked again. “You’re just going to give yourself a bigger headache.”

  Vayl’s old gal decided the whole situation was horribly humiliating and began to cry as we walked them into the barn. Or maybe she thought we’d sympathize and let them go. Ha!

  Albert stood in the open space between two rows of empty stalls. In one hand he held a tarp. The other motioned to an enormous bla
ck-lidded barbecue, the kind you’d expect to see beside a food vendor’s tent at a street fair. “I lifted the lid,” he said. “People store all kinds of stuff in their grills. I thought, Why not rope?” He pointed.

  Shoving my charge ahead of me, I moved toward the cooker. And stopped again just before my hip hit the side table.

  “Vayl?”

  “Yes, Jasmine,” he said gravely.

  “Is that an eyeball lying in the cinders under the grate?”

  “I believe so.”

  “Jesus.” I spun my girl around, but before I could even begin to question her she threw up. The only reason she missed me was that I read the signs correctly and shoved her away before any damage was done. “Tie her up, Albert.” For once, he just nodded.

  Turning to Vayl’s prisoner, I stalked toward her, noting with satisfaction that the closer I got the bigger her eyes grew. “I don’t know anything!” she squeaked.

  “Sure you do,” I said. “Your boss is cooking people in her backyard. That’s not something she’s going to be ë’s >

  I lifted my knife. Pressed the tip against her cheek. “We could add another trophy to the one in that grill real easy.” Change of angle, just enough to draw blood. Vayl held her tightly, not allowing her to jump and injure herself further. Giving me complete control. “What are they planning tonight?”

  “Floraidh is bringing the Raptor back to the skies.”

  Raising Samos, just like I thought. Okay, don’t panic. “How?”

  “We’re eaters of the dead. It transforms us, and allows us to live beyond our mortal lives.” She sounded like she was reading from a textbook. The same one Tolly had stolen a peek from when she’d dipped her foot into Scidairan magic.

  “What does that have to do with my friend?”

  She gasped as I twisted the knife, letting her cheek feel its sharp edge. “When we eat the living we can make other transformations. With the right words, the right components, we can—” Her eyes widened in horror as they focused on a spot behind me. “She knows I’m talking to you! You must promise to protect me!”

  “Of course. Where’s she headed?”

  “Clava Cairns. She’s already buried the items she needs there. She just had to get the diamonds to pro—” The girl gasped. “Floraidh! I’m sorry. I had no—” Both girls began to choke. I pulled the knife away from the talker’s face as her body bucked and writhed, struggling for air.

  Within a minute Vayl had laid her beside her partner. Though Albert had called an ambulance, it would serve only as a hearse.

  I grabbed Vayl’s arm. “Let’s go. We can still catch up to them if we hurry, right?”

  He looked off in the direction they’d gone, cast his eyes back down to me. “Possibly. But I would hate to be drained of my energy at the very point I might need it the most.”

  “The van, then. I’ll drive,” I said, digging into my pocket for the keys. “Albert, you stay here with Jack.”

  “And explain the dead girls how?” he asked. “The way my luck’s been running, they’ll have stood me in front of a firing squad for murder before you two get here to back up my story!”

  The fact that Albert had managed to keep up with us as we hurried around to the front of the house explained better than anything how he felt about being left behind. And I sure as hell didn’t have time to argue. “Fine. But you keep your ass parked in the van until we tell you it’s okay to come out,” I said.

  “I might be able to help you,” he told me. “I’m pretty handy with a golf club.” Which was when I finally got a good look at the weapon that had taken down girl number two. Hard to tell where he’d found the nine iron he was currently using as a walking stick, but at this point I wouldn’t have cared if it was a bazooka.

  “You’re in the vehicle or you’re stuck here and I don’t give a crap if they dangle yoë thnt>u from Castle Hoppringhill’s tallest tower.”

  “I knew you were gonna say that. Fine. But if you need me, yell.” Albert hefted himself into the backseat of the Alhambra as Vayl, Jack, and I jumped into the front.

  The dog settled between the front seats until Albert said, “Yo, mutt. I’ve got a goody for you back here.” While it wasn’t advisable, I glanced behind me. My dad was just pulling a sausage out of his pocket, which Jack reacted to with a bouncing turn that slapped his tail against my jacket as he enjoyed his snack.

  “Why are you carrying fresh meat around with you?” I asked as I turned my eyes back to the road.

  “I never know when I’m going to want a snack.”

  “What’s in your pants pocket?”

  “A Fruit Roll-Up and half a ham sandwich.”

  “You’re joshing.”

  “I never joke about food.”

  I wished he’d find something to kid about. My insides were wound up so tight a good guitarist could’ve played the opening riff to “Smoke on the Water” on my intestines.

  “Cole is fine,” said Vayl.

  “How do you know?” I snapped. “It’s not like we have any clue what her plan is. Hell, she might have already started snacking on his fingers. Which means even if we save him he’ll never be able to talk to Viv again!”

  Albert laughed.

  “You are such a dick,” I said under my breath.

  “What did you say?” my father demanded.

  “You’re a selfish dick!” I yelled.

  “That’s better! I knew I taught you not to talk behind people’s backs!”

  The turn to Clava Cairns appeared on my right a lot sooner than I’d anticipated. I slammed the brakes and spun the wheel, making my dad swear as I slid him into the window. Even Vayl had to clutch the door handle, and I wondered for a second if the vehicle was going to roll as the tires screeched like a pissed-off diva.

  As soon as I had the vehicle straightened out again, I killed the lights.

  “Is that such a good idea?” asked Albert.

  “I can see fine,” I replied.

  “What kind of approach were you considering?” asked Vayl as we rocketed past the sign that told us we had less than five kilometers to go before we reached one of Scotland’s most ancient landmarks.

  “Quick and violent,” I said.

  He considered. “That might be a problem if she has a shield in place like the one that felled us.”

  “I’m driving a van toward them at seventy miles an hour. That gives you a little more than two minutes to thëo m>

  His answer was to tighten his seat belt and reach back to get a good grip on Jack’s collar.

  “Oohrah!” yelled my dad. “This takes me back! Anybody got a weapon I can use?”

  “Goddammit, you’re staying in the van!”

  “What if somebody sneaks in through the back? Or breaks a window? This glass isn’t bulletproof, you know.”

  “I am driving an unfamiliar vehicle down a narrow road I’ve never seen before. Do you really want to be pissing me off right now?”

  Vayl handed Albert his cane. “Just twist the blue crystal on the top,” he said. “The sheath shoots off, which many of my opponents have found detrimental to their health to begin with. Inside is a weapon made by an Indian sword smith known the world over for his secret forging techniques. The blade is over seven hundred years old and it has never lost its edge.”

  I glanced in the rearview in time to see the respect squaring Albert’s jaw as he accepted Vayl’s sword. The fingers of one hand brushed lightly against the tigers stalking each other from one end of the sheath to the other. “Thanks,” he said. “I’ll make sure it gets back to you in good shape.”

  “Brownnoser,” I whispered to Vayl as he settled back into his seat.

  “Whatever I have to do . . .” He let the sentence hang long enough that I shot a look his direction. His eyes, luminous in my Bergman-enhanced vision, made suggestions that sucked the breath right out of my lungs. I forced my attention back to the road, but didn’t try to hide my growing grin. Why was it that when we were about to pull something extreme
he managed to wind up my nerves and spin them like a basketball on the tip of his finger? Hard to freak about the possible cannibalization of your friend, or your own imminent doom, with Mr. Right exuding confidence and desire in equal doses at your elbow.

  I glanced at him one more time, let him see the smile that showed I understood his message: Relax. We’re going to kick ass like we always do. Because it’s us.

  Cirilai sent a shot of warmth up my left arm. It linked Vayl and me in a way that suddenly became clear as we hurtled around another corner and found ourselves careening through the parking lot of Clava Cairns on our way to disaster.

  For a second it was hard to see past the glitter, as if hundreds of reflectors had been set in the small cavities of the cairns and around the trunks of the nearest trees. Seriously? Could those all be diamonds? I wondered. Then I had no time left to ponder.

  Eleven Scidairans, varying in age from eighteen to sixty, danced around a fire whose flames flared in vivid blues and purples. Did I mention most of the ladies were naked? My father, who had once gone for two weeks before realizing I’d gotten my hair cut short, noticed right away.

  “Son of a bitch, look at the tits on that brunette!”

  “Yeah, Dad, we’re all about boobs in the CIA,” I snapped. “We have whole courses in how to tell the difference between the real ones and the fake ones.”

  “Who cares?” my father responded. “As long as they bounce I’m a happy camper. How about you, Vayl?”

  Hard to interpret the sound that came from my sverhamin’s throat. Either he was dying of asphyxiation or he thought my dad was the funniest man on earth but didn’t want me to know it.

  Rather than scattering as soon as the headlights of our Alhambra hit them, the coven members huddled together, their long, stringy hair and heavily lined eyes combined with their lily-white skin to make them resemble unearthed corpses. The two who’d retained their clothes hung back, somehow familiar but too hard to place at our current speed.

  As one of the coven screamed a phrase I didn’t recognize, the rest smashed their hands together. Whatever they threw must’ve been potent. Because I could smell it before it crashed into the windshield. A spell of such combined ill will that as soon as it hit, it took color and form. A green, hollow-eyed Fury with serpentine hair and fangs the size of my fist.

 

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