Jennifer Rardin [Jaz Parks series book 2] Another One Bites The Dust

by Jennifer Rardin

  Twitch of the lip. Glint in the eye that took me slightly aback. It was so . . . hungry. Which was when I realized he hadn’t eaten yet. Must’ve meant to take his fill from Pengfei and Lung. And the reaver, if we could find him. He’d told me once that he did it as a failsafe. His way of knowing for certain he wasn’t taking out innocents. He was already sitting next to me. Now he slid closer. “Tell me you are certain.”

  “Well, I was.”

  “And then?”

  “Then I remembered how much you like the taste of Jaz.”

  Out came the dimple again. Hell, if it was going to become this common I’d have to announce its arrival with a bicycle bell. “If it makes you feel better, I will let you bite me first.”

  “No!” The chorus of negatives boomed into my ears like a megaphone alarm.

  “Um, team, I would function better if I could hear tonight,” I said.

  Cassandra’s voice came, thankfully softer, but just as deep as the others. “We just wanted to let you know how much we enjoy the fact that you’re human.”

  I assumed we were using the term loosely, considering both my history and foreseeable future. “Don’t worry, kids. I’m not vampire bound. Just intent on enhancing some of my finer traits.” I looked up at Vayl. “You’re going to enjoy this, aren’t you?”

  His eyes glittered with an otherworldly light as he regarded me. “I am vampire, Jasmine. Would you have me pretend otherwise?”

  “Ummm, no.” I realized we were done with the foreplay. Vayl’s arm, already across my shoulders, dropped behind my back and pulled me close. “These marks can’t show,” I murmured.

  “I will take care to conceal them,” Vayl assured me, his words muffled as his lips crossed the line of my jaw. My neck tingled as the tips of his fangs brushed my carotid. They moved lower as he pulled back my collar and thumbed open the top button of my dress. I think my eyes actually did a one eighty in their sockets as his teeth pierced the skin just below my collarbone.

  The last time Vayl had taken my blood I’d blacked out partway through. This time I stayed up for the whole show. And it rocked. I tried to work out why, but that part of my brain hit the deck first. The rest of me, well it doesn’t seem quite decent to describe the feelings Vayl woke in me. Knowing Cassandra and the boys could hear the whole shebang, I stayed silent, though I badly wanted to moan, encourage, and at the very end, shout in triumph, as if I’d summited Everest without oxygen, or a map, or even a Sherpa to guide me.

  When Vayl straightened, he looked as astounded as I felt. “It was actually better this time. How can that be?”

  “Age?” I hazarded. “You know, like fine wine?”

  His laugh, which generally held not one iota of amusement, made me smile. “How do you feel?” he asked as he fished his handkerchief out of his pocket and laid it against the mark.

  “Great, actually,” I said. “Though it probably won’t last. I crashed pretty hard the first time.”

  “Then we should move quickly.”

  “Agreed.”

  CHAPTERTHIRTY-FOUR

  He checked his handkerchief. The bleeding had already stopped, so I buttoned up. “Vayl, it worked.”

  “Already?”

  Oh yeah. I realized I could practically see in the dark, even without activating my special lenses. And I could see Pengfei as well, with that other, mental eye that sensed vampires the way bloodhounds scent rabbits. She had sat in this very spot. Still. Serene. Her head tipped toward the stars as if enjoying the ride but, in reality, leading the charge.

  I closed my eyes, concentrating on her psychic trail. “I think we’re going to be able to find her. My Sensitivity—it’s definitely enhanced.”

  “Something is happening to me as well,” Vayl said. “A change I cannot as yet pinpoint.” I’d never heard that particular tone in his voice before. Then I realized. It was wonder. I opened my eyes. How long had it been since anything had made him marvel? We stared at each other. “I chose rightly in you, myavhar .”

  “Why, Vayl, that almost sounds like a compliment.”

  “Do not let it go to your head.”

  “Don’t worry. If I do I’ll probably just end up ramming it into another tent pole.” I stood, sat back down as the dizzies hit me, and said, “Maybe you should go first.”

  Vayl disembarked, helped me out, and then waited patiently while I shut my eyes again. Yup, there it was. A definite Pengfei bouquet, kinda like skunk only lethal. I opened my eyes because, let’s face it, this was going to be hard to do if I kept running into things like, oh, I don’t know, the Gulf of Mexico. The trail faded somewhat, but I could still sense it. I squinted and it came clearer. Okay, so I guessed I’d have to do this looking as if I needed a good pair of bifocals. Why, oh why, couldn’t I once receive a Gift that required a good tan and my own personal stylist?

  Vayl made a noise that I translated as a badly disguised chuckle. “You just keep your smart-ass remarks to yourself,” I said.

  “I did not say a word.”

  “You didn’t have to. Let’s go.” I headed toward the parking lot from which groups of Texans were still emerging, talking and laughing, gearing up for big fun. I wanted to run them off, one and all, and to hell with the consequences. Instead I followed Pengfei’s trail east, to the open area Cole and I had driven past on our scouting expedition. An antiqued silver sign labeled it as Sanford Park. The bay with its seawall still ran to our right. Pengfei’s trail led us on a straight course up a grassy slope to the band shell.

  In the summer I supposed the hill would fill with families carrying blankets and picnic baskets, old couples with lawn chairs, maybe a few young lovers looking for a cheap date, listening to free concerts given by the local symphony. But judging by the fact thatBRITNEY LUVS MARK was written in big red letters across the back wall, I supposed nobody had played a note here in months.

  Built to withstand some nasty blows, the building looked sturdy as a post office. Excellent foundation. Solid floors. Expensive, recessed lighting. All the wiring snaked under the stage, so when Pengfei’s scent took me to a trap door at the front I wasn’t surprised. Vayl lifted the door and went down first. I followed.

  We found their resting places almost immediately. Two shallowly buried coffins, open and empty.

  “Dammit,” I said.

  “You guys okay?” It was Cole, sounding worried. I nearly snapped at him, but held it in check. It’s always hardest to wait.

  “We’re fine,” I said. “They’ve already risen, that’s all.”Of course they have. You knew that. Vamps don’t sleep in, you fool. They have places to go. People to eat. I moved on, following Pengfei’s trail back onto the stage. She had walked to the rear, taken the stairs off the east side, headed toward the gazebo. Even by night it beckoned.Stop here. Look at the bay. Step out of yourself for one second and acknowledge that there’s something more, something better out there.

  “Vayl,” I whispered as we reached the building.

  “I know.”

  Had he, like me, smelled it before he saw it?

  No. Not it. Her. That bitch, Pengfei, does not get to reduce anyone to an it.But she’d tried. Her victim lay on the floor of the structure, what was left of her anyway. Pengfei had mangled her neck like a poodle’s chew toy. Then she’d torn open the woman’s chest. Or maybe something else had. Because most of the contents were missing, including her heart.Reaver, whispered my mind, and my churning gut agreed.

  In fact, inspired by its proximity to real acrobats, my stomach proceeded to attempt a quadruple double-twisting backflip. Since it still hadn’t sifted through all the grease from its last meal, the results were not pretty. I left them in the bay.

  “Pengfei and Desmond Yale.” I spat out their names along with the taste of vomit. Weren’t they just the pretty pair? Which took my mind back to Samos, the Matchmaker from Hell. He should have his own Web site—psychodates.com. I could just see him making the morning talk show circuit. “Honest, Regis, it works every time! Our clie
nts fill out a thirty-page personality profile. Yes, there’s a nominal charge, but we make akilling from the revenues! Haw, haw, haw!” How satisfying would it be to charge right out of the audience and shove my fist through his face? On a scale of one to ten? Ninety.

  Vayl’s hand on my arm brought my attention back to the present. “You cannot function if you let such feelings take hold,” he said.

  Don’t I know it. I looked down at my hands, shaking with the rage I felt at this senseless death. And yeah, a little bit at being the one who had to find her body, feel her pain, take her revenge. These were the times I wished I’d been more like Evie. If I could’ve been satisfied with her kind of life I could’ve avoided a buttload of pain.

  “What do we do?” I asked.

  “Find Pengfei.”

  “But this woman’s soul—”

  “—may still be in the eye of the reaver, or may already be lost. Either way, there is nothing you can do right now, especially if Pengfei is planning a disaster, as you suspect.”

  “For a guy who wants to live forever, you sure have a callous way of looking at death,” I snapped.

  Vayl stared at me until I met his eyes. “I could ask you where you get off saying such a thing, considering your profession,” he said, his tone so even I knew he was working to keep it that way. Which meant I’d better back down before he decided I needed a little hardening and I spent the next six weeks viewing corpses in all sorts of gruesome situations. “However, recognizing you have made the mistake of identifying with this woman, I will simply remind you to keep your mind on the job and save the souls you can.”

  I turned away. Vayl was right. I couldn’t rescue them all. I looked over my shoulder, hating myself because I couldn’t cry— because it would smear my makeup. Boy was I ever into my part now. All I had to do was steal some kid’s cotton candy and I could easily pass for the biggest louse on earth.

  “Jasmine, stop slouching,” ordered Vayl, taking out the remnants of his ire on my posture. “Pengfei does not slouch.”

  “She should. Actually, she should slither. Then, the next time I see her, I can just stomp her head in.” With that grimly satisfying picture in my head I followed Pengfei’s steps back to the Winter Festival, down the same path Cole and I had taken only a couple of days before. What a contrast now. Crowded with bright-eyed, laughing families, lined with carefully painted booths and rides that looked like they’d been built by NASA and lit by the White House Christmas decorators, the Corpus Christi Winter Festival seemed like an idea plucked from the mind of Einstein.

  We left the path just before we reached the Chinese Acrobats’ Arena. Pengfei’s route had taken her behind the multicolored building into the center of the acrobats’ camp. The place practically echoed since the show was on. We could hearooh s andaah s and occasional bursts of applause from where we stood, staring at the back of a small Winnebago.

  “Nice propane tanks,” I said lamely.

  “Yes,” Vayl agreed.

  “I don’t get why her presence is heavier here. Nothing seems out of place to me. How about you?”

  Vayl stooped and looked beneath the camper while I climbed to view the top of it. When we’d rejoined each other we both shook our heads. Nothing.

  “Moving on?” I asked.

  “I suppose so,” he said.

  I went back into squint mode and followed Pengfei’s by now familiar trail. It led us directly to the arena. She’d bypassed the main entrance and followed one puffy red wall to the back of the building where a smaller purple structure attached to the main body. It allowed the acrobats quick access to the large open space within.

  “She went in here,” I whispered. The crowd applauded as something impressive just happened. We stepped inside the entryway for a better view, but a black curtain had been drawn to hide the area in which we stood along with about two feet of the back wall. The house band switched from tension-building music to a dance-in-your-seat tune. I grabbed Vayl’s arm. “She’s in here.”

  We peered through an opening in the curtain. “There,” said Vayl. “She is in the front row, wearing the white short-sleeved top with the turquoise pants, sitting next to Lung in the gold robes.” Vayl looked down at me. “How are you going to explain the change of clothes to Lung when you finally see him?”

  “Won’t have to. He’ll already know somebody spilled a Cherry Coke on me.”

  “So that is how you are planning to separate them?”

  “Yup. I’ve got twenty bucks in my pocket says I can get one of the upstanding young men in this audience to do me just that favor before this show is over. Look.” I pointed to a set of stands to our right. “See that tall lanky college kid on the back row? The one drinking two beers at once? I’m thinking he’s the one.”

  “Would you like me to do the talking?” he offered, perhaps thinking the two of them would bond immediately, being male and all. I thought he’d probably scare the hell out of the kid. Even with his powers banked, he still carried with him an I-could-easily-kick-your-ass air that kept most guys at a safe distance. But I didn’t say any of that.

  “Nope. Let’s leave it to the money.” We began to move, but stopped as the entire perimeter of the floor rotated counterclockwise, circling our frat boy, along with the rest of the audience, a quarter of a turn to the left. A stream of acrobats ran past us and onto the performance floor, which had remained in place. The audience cheered and stamped their approval of this innovation. We exchanged impressed glances.

  “Wonder who thought that up?” I said.

  “Do you think they have their own resident Bergman?”

  “If they have to steal from ours?” After a couple of failed attempts I got college boy’s attention, found out he adored pranks and money, and had myself a new partner.

  I couldn’t see Pengfei or Lung since the audience had rotated. I stood on my tiptoes and jumped up and down to no avail. “How’s it going?” I demanded. “Is he there yet?”

  “Jasmine, trust more than your eyes.”

  Vayl was so calm that I stood absolutely still, opened up all my senses, and simply sponged it all up. It took about three minutes, but at last I could say, “She’s moving.”

  “Are you certain?”

  I nodded. “She’s leaving. There’s an exit directly opposite ours. She’s headed out that way.”

  “Go get her.”

  Turning, lunging out the door, I avoided another group of acrobats with an agility that, since the Sensitivity had risen in me, had become a rarity. As soon as I regained visual contact with Pengfei I put the medallion back over my head right along with the edgy feeling of discomfort.

  The real Pengfei was pissed and practically trotting, but I still managed to catch up with her on the path headed back toward the marina and that pretty blue ferry to theConstance Malloy . I grabbed her arm and hustled her off the trail to an unlit clearing just west of the festival. That she allowed me to move her at all reflected the depth of shock she felt at seeing her own face mirrored back at her from what should have been a total stranger’s countenance.

  She recovered quickly, yanking her arm out of my grasp. “That is my dress!” she spat, enraged as any woman would be at the unmitigated gall. I kind of understood what she was saying just by her expression, but Cole translated almost as soon as she spoke.

  I backed up, making space for my equipment to do its work as I spread her fan in front of my mouth. “Yes it is,” I said, “and you know what? Your ass is flat!” I felt better already.

  “Who are you?” she hissed.

  I spoke in a slow, stately manner so any hesitation I might make while waiting for Cole’s translation would be misinterpreted as an aged woman taking the time she so richly deserved. “Do you not recognize me, Pengfei Yan? I am your great-great-grandmother!”

  Shao, with his talk of ancestors and honoring Wu, had given me the idea. I wasn’t sure about contemporary Chinese, but the old ones like Pengfei had worshipped their ancestors. Given that Vayl stil
l carried a ton of the 1700s around with him, I hoped Pengfei remembered where she came from just as clearly.

  Mustering some matriarchal ire, I added, “I cannot believe you do not recognize your own ancestor. But perhaps it is no surprise when you have not venerated me lo these many centuries as you know you should have, you ungrateful whelp.” When I saw I’d struck a superstitious chord I closed the gap between us just long enough to give her face a slap. Her hand went to her cheek as I backpedaled, pressing my lips together to keep my delighted chortle strictly mental. “Now tell me why I should not visit great plagues of the most foul luck upon you for the next three thousand years?”

  “I have devised a wonderful plan, Honored Grandmother,” Pengfei said eagerly. “It will transform China into the world’s most powerful nation, as you and I know it should be.” My gesture told her to quit pissing around and get to the details. She leaned toward me and whispered, “I am blowing up the Chinese acrobats.”

  I nearly slapped her again. Anything to strike the glee from her shining black eyes. But then people still might die, little people like Lai and E.J., and I couldn’t have that. “What a marvelous plan,” I drawled, “destroying your own people.” I spun my finger next to my temple and rolled my eyes. “Brilliant.”

  “No, Grandmother, don’t you see? I have mailed letters to theWashington Post and theNew York Times taking responsibility for the explosion on behalf of the American fanatics who demonstrate outside the gates of this festival. My partner was able to transfer their fat leader’s fingerprints to the envelopes and even to the bomb itself. No one will doubt the story, because it is widely known that the Chinese acrobats are managed by vampires.”

  “I do not understand. What American fanatics? Who are you framing?”

  “The church people!” Pengfei cried. “Their hatred for the supernatural is well documented. They actually wrote a threatening letter to us when they heard we were bringing the acrobats to Corpus Christi. It was what gave us—well, our partner—the idea.”