Bitten to Death

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 alarm 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.

THAT’S BETTER, said Raoul. REMEMBER YOUR POKER FIXATION AS WELL.

His voice had such finality to it that I felt a surge of panic. No, wait, don’t leave yet! I’ll practice shifting the chips, I promise. But I have to know what to do about the firebug trait I’ve suddenly developed. And, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m in a major predicament with this Disa mess. Couldn’t you—

ON THE FIRST ISSUE—PRACTICE. I’M OUT ON THE SECOND.

Why?

NOT MY FIELD OF EXPERTISE. I wished we had video to go along with the words in my head. Because I was sure it would’ve confirmed the deceit I heard in his voice. It wasn’t that he couldn’t help. He simply wouldn’t. Which was when I realized my Spirit Guide didn’t approve of my sverhamin. I wasn’t overly surprised. On paper they seemed to fall on opposite philosophic poles. But we were all working toward the same goal here. Which made me feel like Raoul was being somewhat narrow-minded. I wondered if it was a personal deal, or if he was acting on orders from Above.

Either way, we were SOL. Judging by the stubborn set of Vayl’s jaw, he wouldn’t have accepted outside help on this anyway. He spoke to Dave since I obviously had nothing useful to say. “I wonder if perhaps Disa is still smarting from the humiliation I brought down on her when she was still human. She hates to lose. Perhaps she has found a way to exact her revenge upon me after all these years.”

“I could drop a boulder on her head,” I murmured.

“Excuse me?” said Vayl.

I looked at my watch. “Wow, three a.m. Where has the time gone? Are we squared away on the dognapping?”

Dave nodded. “Just what I was going to ask. I understand our cover. But not how we’re supposed to get this mutt’s attention.”

“Bergman has provided us with the tools we need,” said Vayl. He turned to me. “Jasmine?”

Since I’d packed the goodies, it came to me to run into the bedroom and unearth the plain silver aerosol cans that contained Bergman’s invention. Barely resisting the urge to cover my brother in doggy-sniff mist, I tossed him one can and gave the other to Vayl. As I resumed my seat I said, “When I told Bergman we needed to take temporary custody of a large canine, he sent me these. He said to treat them like bug spray.”

“You mean, they’re a repellent?” asked Dave.

“Just the opposite. As soon as he gets a whiff of us, he’ll want to be friends for life. He’ll go anywhere with us, no problem. By the way, the dog’s name is Ziel.”

“What’re we going to smell like to him?” Dave asked. “Steak?”

“That’s what I asked. No, Bergman says he won’t think we’re dinner. It’s more a let’s-play kind of scent. Like we’re just a couple of other malamutes.”

“Is this a prototype?”

“Nope. He invented it about five years ago. Tried and true.”

“So we are set,” Vayl pronounced. “You two will use Bergman’s spray to aid in your mission tomorrow. Samos is staying at a hotel called the Olympia. David already has the address because he is going to place cameras outside the entrances at his earliest convenience.” He rubbed his hands together like he was about to dig into a big old piece of apple pie. But I knew better. He just didn’t know what else to do with them. Which was when I realized what had been missing from the overall picture.

“What happened to your cane?” I asked.

He opened his empty hands, stared at them as if he’d just seen them for the first time today. When his eyes rose to meet mine, they were nearly black with fury. “I cannot remember. But I can imagine.”

“Disa,” we both said at the same time. We looked at Dave.

“Exactly what happened in that meeting?” I demanded. “Describe everything. Any detail could make the difference.”

“What are you saying?” asked Dave. “What’s the cane got to do with the meeting?”

“Maybe nothing,” I told him, shooting Vayl a comforting look. “Maybe you just left it under your chair when it was time to go.”

“But I have never forgotten it,” Vayl said, rubbing the heel of his hand across his forehead. “It has been my constant companion for over two hundred years.”

I nodded. “Which means it’s become a part of you. Objects like that can be dangerous when they fall into the wrong hands. So”—I turned back to my brother—“details.”

Dave scratched his cheeks, the sandpaper scrape of his nails against the new growth of his beard the only sound in the room. “We went to Disa’s private quarters. There’s a stone balcony built off her bedroom with a wall that curves out and a stairway that leads to the ground floor. That’s where the talk happened. There weren’t many chairs, so most of us stood. In fact, I think the only people who sat were Vayl and Disa.”

“Who else was there?”

“Sibley and Marcon. Those two gigantic guards were there too.”

“What happened when you came onto the balcony?”

“Sibley handed us copies of the contract. I remember being surprised she’d found it so easily after all that bullshit about not even knowing we were coming.” Dave glanced at Vayl. “What did you think about that?”

My boss had gone stiff and wary, as if he suspected an imminent ambush. “I . . .” His hand went to his forehead, triggering an overall tightening of his facial muscles that aged him by at least a decade. “Something distracted me almost from the moment the meeting began. I found it hard to concentrate. I kept looking at the guards, thinking they were being rude speaking so loudly during an important meeting. But they were not talking at all.”

“Did you have your cane when you stepped onto Disa’s balcony?” I asked.

He nodded. “Of that I am sure.”

“What else?” I directed the question to Dave.

He shrugged. “Pretty straightforward stuff until the end. They went over the details while the guards and I made sure everybody behaved.”

“But in the end Disa didn’t toe the line. In fact, she drew an entirely new one.” I tried, really I did, but I couldn’t keep the accusation out of my tone. Dave faced it squarely, as he’d been trained to, though the toll must’ve made his shoulders creak, considering the load he was already carrying. “I’m sorry,” I said immediately. “Your job is just to watch Vayl’s back. And you did exactly that. She didn’t stab him. She trapped him. There’s no way you could’ve prevented that.”

“Maybe if I’d have known what to look for,” Dave said with a regretful shrug. “But after the contract discussion was over, all she did was lean sideways, pick this two-handled cup off the floor, and say, ‘With this blood I bind you for the next half century.’ Then she poured the contents over his hand.”

As Vayl studied his pale, empty fingers, I said, “Wait a second. You didn’t mention a cup before. Was it big?”

What’s the difference? said Dave’s gesture. “It stood about twelve inches high. Gold. Reminded me of the Ryder Cup trophy with the golfer hacked off the top.”

“That’s a pretty showy item to have missed when you first came onto the balcony,” I said. “Neither of you noticed it at all?” The men shook their heads. “And, Vayl? You just sat there and let her pour blood all over your digits? No avoidance? No protest?”

“At the time I felt she had the right.” He shook his head. “It is as we have realized. The power of this place. It worms its way into your pores, and before you realize it, you are behaving as if everything the Deyrar says and does is correct and natural.” He clenched his fists. “So she bound me. That still does not explain what happened to my cane. Or why she needs it.”

“Did you have it when she poured the blood over your hand?” I asked.

“Yes. I remember thinking that I needed to clean it off of the wood before it stained. So I went into her bathroom and washed my hand. But before I got to the cane, I decided to leave it. In her bathroom.”

“Why?” I asked.

He put his fingers to his temples. “I had the oddest feeling I should give her a gift since we had become bound. I tried to resist the urge. Part of me understood the best course of action would be to find you and get out, despite the fact that it would end our mission. But my hand began to burn with such heat I had to hold it under the cold-water tap. After I had stood there for another minute, I decided to leave the cane after all. So I did. And I promptly forgot it.”

Dave sat forward. “Let’s go get it. I haven’t kicked ass in so long, the steel toes of my boots are getting rusty.” When Vayl hesitated he pressed. “You know Disa can’t be up to any good with it.”

“I agree,” I said. “You and I both understand what trouble people can get into when they lose something they value as much as you do that cane. She might try to control you through it.”

“Or she may use it as a pwen,” Vayl countered.

Crap, he might have hit the mark there.

“What’s a pwen?” asked Dave.

“An object used in self-defense,” I explained. “Considering what Disa’s done to Vayl, and what she might be planning, she could be thinking he’d be tempted to move against her. Especially since he’s already shown an ability to resist the Trust in the past. In that case, she’d have stolen the cane to use as a shield against Vayl’s powers if he becomes violent. Since he’s had it so long, it’s absorbed a lot of his energies, so it’s the ideal item for the job.”

“But she’s already manipulated him,” Dave argued. “He couldn’t even remember leaving it in her possession. Now that she has it, I’m betting she’s using it to tighten the screws.” The stare he sent Vayl was more bitter than day-old coffee. “It’s just like the ohm. Only it’s not stuck inside his neck.”

I put my hand on my brother’s knee. “The Wizard’s dead, Dave. You won.”

He shrugged. Gave me his whatever look.

I studied him as he turned back to argue with Vayl. Spoiling for a fight, Dave gave it his best shot while my boss debated for the wait-and-see side. As they talked, I tried to open another eye. It wasn’t easy. I’d been alone for eight months before partnering with Vayl. You tend to develop cataracts working that way. Makes the killing easier. Dams the nightmares. But eventually you go blind. Vayl had taught me new ways of working, unique avenues of thinking. It didn’t mean I’d gotten tons better at stepping out of my own head. But for Dave’s sake, I tried.

What would it be like to be at another person’s mercy? Trapped by a power more adept and much more willing to do evil than you? Especially when you were accustomed to leading a force of elite troops trained to operate independently and tasked with only the most nut-cracking assignments the military could dredge up?

That’s a vulnerable situation to be in. With your soul straining to fly while some badass necromancer binds it with magic and bone. And then my spine straightened, the answer I needed flying up from the seat of my pants to encase it in iron. That was Dave’s real problem. He’d been like a hostage. A prisoner of war. All the crap he’d heaped on top of that original victimization he could probably deal with if only he got his head past the conviction that he should have fought in a situation when he couldn’t possibly have done anything different.

I suddenly felt the gap in my training. I knew how to be a prisoner. Like my twin, I could survive the incarceration no matter what it entailed. But the aftermath? I had no idea how to slog through that, much less help somebody else deal. He needed professional assistance. But I might as well suggest he dress in drag and sing “Girls Just Want to Have Fun.”

Then I realized I had a pro right at my fingertips. But before I could make the call, I needed to discuss one more item. And I thought I might have calmed down enough to do that without setting off any more alarms.

I waited for a pause in the discussion. “I ran into Blas before.”

Vayl sat even straighter. “You did? But Disa said he was—” I waited while Vayl recalled their conversation about the lost vampires, during which Disa had not told him what happened to a single one. “Where did you find him? Why did he stay inside when the rest came out to confront us?”

“I imagine that would have something to do with the fact that he couldn’t have found his way without a guide. And he seems to be avoiding Disa like the plague since she’s the reason he’s”—I almost said blind, but that didn’t go far enough—“maimed,” I finished.

“What has she done?” he demanded, his features so taut you’d have thought I’d threatened to stake him in his sleep.

I didn’t take any pleasure in telling him. I sensed he’d begun to feel personally responsible for Disa’s horrors, like the father of a girl who opens fire on all her least-favorite classmates. Well, maybe he should. I’d terminated plenty of targets whose parents had been even more monstrous than them. Then again, as my Granny May used to say, some people are just born with the devil in them.

As I described my conversation with Blas, part of me wondered what it had been like for Vayl, living here. From bits of information he’d let slip during our time together, I figured he’d spent a little over a century in the Trust. A hundred years hunting, gambling, partying, fighting, eating, and yeah, most likely sleeping with these people. I thought of Sibley and the woman he’d called Aine and quickly doused a spark of jealousy that might easily have set some papers aflame in a wastebasket somewhere.

As grief etched long lines in his cheeks, I blurted, “What were you like?”

He reared back, almost as if I’d slapped him. “What do you mean?”

“When you lived here before. What kind of man—” I shook my head. Why did my brain keep classifying him as human? “What kind of vampire were you?”

He gave Dave and me a long, considering look before he spoke. And then he shrugged. “After the split from Liliana I became a Rogue. It is not an easy life. Vampires are quite territorial. I spent nearly all my waking hours either fighting or moving on. It became tiresome trying to find a new safe spot to rest every morning before the sun rose. So when I met Niall while I was hunting one evening and he did not immediately try to rip my throat out, I began to think perhaps I had found a way to a better life.”

I licked my lips. They’d dried out suddenly when he’d mentioned hunting so casually, like Albert and Dave had right before deer season started, when they’d begun to get their gear in order for opening day. But what he’d meant was that he’d hidden in dark alleyways and abandoned warehouses, waiting for drunken sailors and unsuspecting night owls to stroll by. At which point—

“Did you kill them?” I asked, unable, somehow, to find any tact now that I’d taken this line of questioning. “The people you hunted, I mean? Did they die after you . . .”

He shook his head. “Some vampires kill their prey, but it is only for the pleasure of it. Death is not necessary for sustenance. You know that, Jasmine.” Rebuke in his voice. How could you think that of me? his eyes asked.

Don’t try to bullshit me, I told him in a way he could read clearly on my face. I know you’re a natural-born killer.

As are you, his expression said.

Just so we’re clear.

He inclined his head. “I have destroyed many vampires and their human guardians in my time. More than I can count. While I was a Rogue, I did it to survive. Once I began to walk in the Trust, I killed the ones who threatened our territory. I even smoked a few within the Trust who, for one reason or another, threatened the stability of the group to such a degree that they could not be allowed to continue.” He jerked his head up, almost defensively, as if he could feel me judging him. “I found no joy in it.” He leaned forward. “But it is one of the things I do best.”

“Have you turned anyone besides Disa?” I asked.

“No.”

Dave piped up. “And you can’t think of any way to break this binding?”

“Not as yet. Every Trust is wound with the power of its members. This creates something more that is unique to each community—that power Jasmine has discovered that pulls at me even now. And it builds over generations, so that a century ago the villa I escaped might be compared to a fort. Today it is a citadel. Impassable, yes? This is what Disa used to bind me.”

We nodded. Maybe we’d been naive to think all that shazam would just sit there, pulsing, and not try to manipulate us once it had us in its grasp. Or that the Deyrar wouldn’t use it to further the Trust’s agenda. But that’s what happens in this line of work. Sometimes you don’t have all the background you need before you go in and the risk factor spikes to holy-crap-where’d-we-stash-the-hazmat-suits? Which is why they pay us the big bucks.

“You make the Trust sound impregnable,” I said. “But we got inside.”

“Hamon had opened the way for us. A path Disa had apparently failed to block.”

“Or one she left open,” Dave said. When we turned his way, he added, “I’m sticking with the puppy love theory. It’s just too cute to drop.”

Vayl rolled his eyes. “At any rate, I believe our best hope is to find the true source of her power. Remember what Tarasios said about the masks being spokes of a wheel? Jasmine, with your observations of the power in the Trust’s objects, you have at least given us a place to begin.”

“That could take years, which we mortals don’t have,” said Dave. “Why can’t we just take Disa out?” His casual tone chilled me. It seemed slightly hypocritical, since terminating bad guys was my gig after all. I decided it bothered me because I didn’t want him to be like me. Married people might talk about their better halves. But Dave really was mine. Seeing him go down my road made me all the more determined to detour him. Where was an exhausted, pissed-off construction crew when you needed them?

Vayl said, “Beyond the fact that her life, and death, are now inextricably linked with mine, the Deyrar exists at the center of the Trust, its strong heart. As such, she wields her own power, the Trust’s, and everyone else’s as well. She cannot be denied.”

“You got out,” I said. “That implies that the Deyrar isn’t omnipotent.”

Vayl shrugged. “It took me decades to build the strength. And in the end, it was what Hamon and I both wanted.”

Dave said, “That seems pretty convenient. Care to elaborate?”

Vayl spent some time studying the fountain. “I had begun to realize I was trading safety for freedom, and the price was the erosion of what remained of my—” He glanced up. Tightened his lips. It reminded me so strongly of Bergman’s nunya-bizness look that I smiled. Vayl said, “I realized I did not want to fit into Hamon’s world anymore. But many in the Trust felt my new leanings would serve them better. When I expressed a desire to leave, they asked me to challenge him instead.”

The way Vayl said the word “challenge” let us know he wasn’t referring to a chess match.

Though we all knew the ultimate outcome, none of us mocked Dave when he asked intently, “So what did you do?”

“I had found a new Seer. A Sister of the Second Sight, like Cassandra. She had told me I would meet my sons in America. It was 1921. I had spent one hundred and nine years in the Trust. More time than I had lived anywhere else in all my life. But the possibility of seeing my boys again began to obsess me as it had not in over thirty years. So I went to Hamon with an ultimatum.” Vayl looked at his empty hands, rubbed his fingers together as if he missed the feel of his cane. I realized with a sense of awe that he’d probably held that very item in his hands the night he’d confronted Hamon with his choices. “I told him either he had to let me go. Or I would drape myself with the powers of my supporters and tear him from the center of the Trust like a cancerous tumor.”

“What did he say to that?” Dave prodded.

“He sat back in his throne of a chair, steepled his hands like the mathematics professor he had once been, and said, ‘Dearling boy, I see no need for us to be at odds. Of course you may go.’”

That word “dearling” caught my attention, but before I could figure out where I’d heard it before, Vayl had gone on with his story. “So I packed my bags and took the first ship I could find for New York. Of course Hamon sent hunters after me. It could do his reputation harm if word leaked that one of his own had deserted the Trust.”

“But you killed them,” Dave said, trading a knowing look with me.

“You might call it my introduction to my new career,” Vayl said with a slight nod, his gesture taking in the room but referring to every mission he’d had since signing on with the CIA in 1927. “Of course, it took the government some time to organize a department that could use my particular talents. But when it finally evolved, I became its first staff member.”

I hadn’t known the department Pete now supervised was created around his longest-living and most legendary staff member. But when you thought about it, it made perfect sense.

“That was a pretty slick escape,” said Dave, rubbing his neck as he once had when the Wizard was in charge of him. I could tell by the tone in his voice that he wondered why he hadn’t been able to pull off something similar. Well, hell, if he’d had forty years to plan, maybe he’d have figured something out as well!

Deciding now was the time to make my own exit, I said, “’Scuse me,” as I headed toward the bathroom. When I was safe behind the locked door, thumbing through my short list of numbers, I realized Cole hadn’t contacted me in a while. Did that mean his mission was going well? One could only hope.

My father answered the phone with his usual grumble. “Judge Judy’s on. Make it quick.”

“It’s good to hear your voice too, Albert. How’s Shelby?”

Shelby is Albert’s nurse, and the main reason the old man still has all his fingers and toes. Though why any diabetic needs another human being to explain the dangers of donuts and hot chocolate to him on a daily basis I still have no clue. “He’s fine. He’s the only person I know who can make a salad that fills me up. Explain that, will ya?”

“I imagine he’s injecting the lettuce with steak and potatoes.”

“That’s what I thought too, but I couldn’t find a trace of either one in there.” He sounded so sincere I nearly laughed. Then I went ahead and let ’er rip. Because only a few weeks before I’d thought I might never hear his voice again.

While I’d been working in Iran, Albert had been hit by a woman driving a minivan as he toured his neighborhood on his new motorcycle. During the time he’d been stuck in Chicago West with tubes sprouting from every orifice, he’d become convinced the woman had hit him on purpose. Especially when she skipped bail. But by the time he and Shelby had driven to my sister’s house in Indy to help us celebrate Easter, his whole thought process had changed. Mine hadn’t.

“Any sign of that driver?” I asked.

“Naw. The cops are baffled. They say it’s like she never existed. Dumbasses.”

“Any more phone calls from nowhere? Ghostly guests?”

“I told you what I saw was probably a morphine hallucination.”

I thought the grinning skull that had taken the place of his ICU nurse’s face to warn him of future visitations had probably been as real as the phone in my hand. But when my family doesn’t want to stomach a reality, they do a damn good job of denying it. I didn’t have time to talk sense into him, and nothing had happened since to convince him otherwise, so I decided to go along with the pretense for a while longer. At the moment, Dave’s problem pressed harder.

“Look, I’ve got a situation here.” I explained my theory about Dave. “You’ve been in the military forever. Even if you don’t have firsthand experience, surely you know somebody who has an idea how to get him through this. Someone who’s dealt with guys who’ve been taken hostage or spent time as prisoners of war?”

We sat in silence for so long I began to wonder if I’d lost the signal. “Hello?”

“Goddammit, I’m sorry, Jazzy. So sorry to have brought you and your brother to this spot.”

I was so shocked I plopped down on the toilet. Thank God its last user had dropped the lid or I’d have sunk to the bottom. Thing was, Albert didn’t know the half of it. If he had, he’d probably be on his knees blubbering. Yuck. “We’re grown-ups, Dad. If we’d wanted to do anything different, we would’ve.”

He took a breath. I could almost hear him pulling himself together. Old guys pop like bubble wrap. Especially marines. “Yeah, you know what, there are a couple of people I could call.” There, that assured tone in his voice that had gone missing after his forced retirement. It kept me calling him, asking for small favors that others could have done for me. Well, I had to admit, he’d pulled a few strings lately that had helped my missions skip right along.

That’s what I told myself. But there was still a little girl inside me, her swing set virtually hidden behind a tall, green hedge. Usually I could only see the tips of her white shoes and the matching bow in her hair as she pumped her swing high enough to top the shrubbery and shriek a message that might, or might not, be heard over the heavy droning of my heart and its various connections. Just now I actually saw a red curl flutter in the breeze of her whoosh upward as she called out, “Maybe he loves you after all.”