“Oh, God, why did this happen to me!” I flung myself across the hand, which began to work its way up my ribs like they were a ladder to the Promised Land. But I could feel Vayl’s mood through Cirilai, the ring that bound us closer than a promise, and fun was the last thing on his mind. I sent him soothing thoughts, yanked a handful of roses from the bouquet decorating the lid, and shoved them into his fist.
The mourners, inspired by their colleague’s wardrobe malfunction and my overacting, kicked it into high gear. Their screams bounced off the hearse and sank into the coffin, sending Vayl into a frenzy. Despite the tradition followed by most of his kind, he’d never spent his days in the spelunker’s paradise he presently inhabited. Only Pete’s promise of a hefty bonus and the help of a sedative known to work on vampires had convinced him to travel this way at all.
His other hand crashed through the lid, wrapped around my jacket, and forced me down, holding me so tight that I rode the casket into the hearse as Cole, Bergman, and Cassandra helped the pallbearers shove it the rest of the way home. Somebody slammed the door shut and, since the back of the car had no windows, I began to open the latches.
“I’m getting you out!” I called. I popped the last closure and Vayl shoved back the lid, rolling me into the narrow space between the coffin and the hearse’s inner wall, raining roses on me like I was a parade float. Now it was my turn to grit my teeth and wriggle.
“I’m stuck!” I yelled.
The lid slammed and Vayl, moving so fast all my eyes caught was a blur of black leather and bloodred cashmere, grabbed my arms and pulled me into the backseat. We landed on our sides, tangled like teenagers, our mouths so close I could feel the steam of his heavy breaths washing over my cheeks.
I pulled my head back, inspecting him for damage. His short, dark curls practically stood on end. His winged eyebrows looked like they wanted to fly off his forehead, but his eyes, the orange of a tiger lily, were already fading to brown. “That was… unpleasant,” he said, his expression still taut enough to show the bulge of his fangs under his upper lip.
“But this is nice,” I said as I slipped my hand inside his coat. I made my next move quick, because company was coming and the CIA frowns on fraternization. Not that my crew would’ve gossiped about me grabbing my boss’s rear. They knew how to keep their mouths shut. So did we, for that matter. But people who risk death with you on a regular basis just seem to figure things out. And if the Oversight Committee questioned them I didn’t want them to have to lie any more than necessary.
“Jasmine!” Vayl’s breath caught. “You pick the worst moments!” Which was true, because people had begun to pile into the hearse. I could hear the delight in his voice though. Damn near three hundred years old and he still loved to be groped.
“I think my necklace is tangled in your sweater,” I said. Since the line my shark’s tooth, shells, and beads were strung on had been tested to six hundred pounds, one guess which would give first.
“I do not care what is wound where as long as I am rid of that box.”
“That bag was lined with real silk!” Cole announced as he bounced into the seat beside Ruvin.
I covered Vayl’s mouth before he could reply, because absolutely nothing he said could’ve helped. I gasped when he licked my palm. “What’re you doing?”
“Your hand is bleeding,” he whispered.
Oh, great, the roses. I hadn’t even felt their thorns dig in when I’d ripped them out of the bunch. But now that I knew, my wounds began to throb, along with a vein in my temple as Bergman and Cassandra got comfy in the seat opposite us. Jack, bummed to be stuck in yet another enclosed space, hopped up on the seat beside us and stuck his nose against the window.
“Somebody needs to pay the mourners,” Bergman said to Vayl. “They say they won’t cry another tear until—”
“What mourners?” he growled.
I dropped my fist to his chest, thought better of patting it. Hell, his sweater no doubt cost more than my entire wardrobe. “It’s a long story. One you probably shouldn’t hear until you’ve had some nourishment and Cole’s a couple of miles away. Hang on.”
I freed my necklace and, taking Jack with me, slipped out the door, making sure the light didn’t hit Vayl’s position. Though he’d applied Bergman’s skin lotion and brought his fedora and sunglasses, the UV still hurt when it struck him. It just didn’t make him burst into flame anymore.
Pulling a wad of bills from an inner pocket of my jacket, I headed toward the oldest, and loudest, mourner. “How much?” I asked.
She named a number that made me bite my tongue. I nearly bartered, but realized as a widow wallowing in grief, I probably wouldn’t have the emotional stability to go there. Which made me wonder how many bereaved families got screwed the world over.
I gave her the dough and passed an even larger amount to the band. They, at least, made a pretty noise for their pay. I headed back to the hearse.
Stop.
Like competitors in a game of Simon Says, my feet obeyed. That the order came from a voice inside my head shouldn’t have been disturbing. I talk to myself all the time, and my imaginary people come in all shapes and sizes. Except this one had risen recently, without welcome or permission, or a face to make it familiar.
Don’t go back in that car, it snarled. What do you want with a seinji, a shallow playboy, a neurotic inventor, and a See-it-all anyway? You’re better off on your own, like it was before you met that cowardly vampire.
I closed my eyes. Like all my mental voices, this one felt like an extension of me. But I didn’t have the ability to silence it like I could the others. It had begun quietly near the end of our last mission and grown like a tumor ever since. The only time it voluntarily muted was when Vayl showed.
I scratched at an itch that threaded from wrist to elbow. Hell, maybe I’d still be standing there today, sinking nails into skin, if not for Jack, who let out a series of his rare, throaty woofs. They snapped the hold that voice had woven over me. As I forced my feet to carry me back to the hearse, it suddenly felt like I was attending my own funeral. Because I knew it was time to face the facts. Either I really despised everybody in that car. Or my psyche had picked up a passenger.
CHAPTERTEN
Cassandra did everything but check the corners of the dank little bathroom for Candid Cameras.
“Bustiers? Are you joking?”
“You know, if you want to pull off this trust deal, you can’t be making fun of me the first time I try it out!”
“Okay, okay! I just thought, you know, since you were engaged once…” I shrugged. “Matt and I sort of skipped the costumes. I can’t remember if we never had the time or if we were just always in that big of a hurry. Maybe if we’d been together longer we’d have gotten around to it.” Stab of regret. Even now, with Vayl such a presence in my life that all I had to do was think of him to make the ragged edges smooth again, sometimes I missed Matt so sharply it was a struggle not to clutch my stomach and double over.
I forced my mind back to the subject, said, “So I’m getting the feeling Vayl likes the dressing up. And I don’t have much in the way of variety. What was he hinting at before?” While Cassandra explained, I wished I’d brought a notebook and a pen. Because she didn’t stop at that item. Oh, no. Somewhere along the line my girlfriend had amassed vast experience in the world of undergarmentry. And when she realized I particularly liked the types that would transform my up-top look from average to let’s-do-video! she really got on a roll. By the time she was done we were giggling like a couple of co-eds planning our first road trip.