He stepped closer. Looked deep into my eyes. Hesitated a millisecond, and then dove in. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”
Oh. No
.
“Cole —”
“I know how you feel. About me. About him. I just wanted you to know — we could be good together. We could have a life. Kids. Vacations. On Sunday mornings I could serve you breakfast in bed.” He gave me his I-know-you-find-me-irresistible grin. “And then I could make you something to eat.”
“I —”
“No. Just tell me you won’t commit to him until you’ve considered me.”
I didn’t know how to answer that. Because deep down I kind of thought I already had. Plus, I understood this was so the wrong moment to yell, “I
like
you, idiot! I have, maybe, three friends in the world and you may have just messed that up for me! You’re only the catch of the century. You could do us all a favor and fall for one of the hundreds of women who’ve lined up for you. But, no. You’ve got to declare for me. And now things are going to be all awkward and strained between us. You ass.”
Or, even more appealing, I could just punch him in the gut and run off, cackling, into the night. However, considering his eight-year-old mentality, he’d probably take that as a sign of affection and the next thing you know we’d be engaged. I opened my mouth, hoping something intelligent would pop out, and then clicked it shut again when Vayl breezed back into the kitchen. His manner blew my worries about Cole to the back of my brain. Something about the way he glanced at and then dismissed me worked on me like a time machine, took me right back to my childhood.
I was fourteen. And I’d just been dumped by Ellis Brenner. I’d had to tear off all the covers of my notebooks so I’d no longer have to look at the elaborate drawings I’d made that variously said Jasmine Elaine Brenner, Mrs. Jasmine Brenner, and Jasmine and Ellis Brenner. I managed to keep it together until I got home from school. And then I lost it. I saw myself now as if I was my mother, standing at my bedroom door, watching teenaged me draped across the lavender bedspread in the room I shared with Evie, sobbing hysterically as I clutched Buttons the Bear to my chest.
“What’s up with you?” Mom had asked, still manning her post, as if entering my room might be noted by the door generals, who could have her shot for dereliction of duty.
It took me a while to get the words out. Saying it aloud made it so real. Which made it hurt more. Which made me cry all the harder. “E-huh E-huh Ellis d-huh-dumped me!” I finally wailed. I curled into a ball with Buttons at the center, as if he’d become the wounded little girl I needed to soothe and protect. I longed for my mother’s arms. Though, by now, I knew better than to expect that comfort. We didn’t hug. Not even when we were delighted with each other. Which hadn’t been for a very long time.
“Who’s Ellis?” she asked.
That stopped me. The way sometimes an explosion will put out an oil fire. I sat up in bed. Wiped my eyes and nose on the hem of my shirt. “How could you not know? I’ve only been talking about him every minute of the day for the last month! He was my
boyfriend
, dammit!”
“You watch your mouth, young lady!”
“Get out of my room!” I screamed.
Rolling her eyes, she backed into the living room. “You should be onstage with those antics,” she said just before I slammed the door in her face. I cried most of the rest of that night. Evie helped me through it. But I never told her the worst part of my grief was the realization that Mom really didn’t give a crap about us.
Indifference. That’s what she’d shown me when she’d said, “Who’s Ellis?” That’s what I saw on Vayl’s face when it should have been clear to him that I was tied up in knots after my conversation with Cole. That I was upset about his choice to talk with Zarsa. I knew that if I stepped up to him right now and said, “Vayl, I need you. Please stay,” he wouldn’t. He’d let me down. Just like my mother had all my life.
Well, I’d had no choice with her. But I sure as hell wasn’t going to let Vayl get away with it.
Chapter Thirteen
I really didn’t think I could sink any lower than I had the day I’d motored through Corpus Christi on a 1993 moped. Apparently I’d been mistaken. “This is it,” I muttered to myself as I crouched on the roof of Soheil Anvari’s business, the second floor of which was his home. “I am officially a stalker.”
I’d been trying to justify following Vayl to Anvari’s for the past half hour.
He’s treated me like crap
, I told myself.
So the second he’s done with Zarsa I’m grabbing him by the short hairs and shaking till he whimpers for mercy.
But it’s tough to lie to yourself when nothing is happening to distract you from your own insanity. I’d set out behind Cole and Vayl with the idea that, once they were done with the reading, I would intercept them. Initiate a confrontation. Force Jaz-interest back into Vayl’s eyes.
Now I had to admit I might just be nutty-bar jealous. Because my strongest current impulse was to drop through the ceiling and kick Zarsa in the teeth for putting that spark of hope in Vayl’s heart and then leading him into her den so she could crush his hopes and dreams. What made it worse was that I could see her torturing him even now. Because these people had a skylight. It pissed me off, actually. What, did they just trundle off to the Home Depot when they discovered Zarsa didn’t have enough light to break her clients’ hearts by? In Tehran? Gimme a break!
He was taking it well. But he would. Vayl would hardly flinch if you filled him full of lead and accused him of kidnapping the Pope. On the other hand, Cole clearly needed a quick getaway followed by an all-nighter with a bowl full of Bubble Yum. He’d already chewed three toothpicks to shreds and was halfway through his fourth. Zarsa would run her finger along Vayl’s palm, say something, and Cole would practically jump out of his chair before translating.
“Okay, I’ve had enough,” I said for the eighth time. “I’m going in.” But with what excuse? I couldn’t think of one thing that wouldn’t bring the full fury of a psychic-deprived vampire down on my head. I should’ve asked Cassandra for some ideas before I left. She certainly had good insight into his current frame of mind.
As soon Cole and Vayl had departed I’d run up to the girls’ room. Cassandra had practically thrown me in a chair she was so anxious for my attention.
“Listen to me,” she said. “Vayl is in danger.”
I jumped up. “Is it the reavers? Did you have a vision just now?”
“No.” She shoved me back down, which was when I realized how serious the situation had become. She really did know better than to push me around. “Vayl is a sober, reasonable creature except when it comes to his sons. And then he cannot be made to hear anything he doesn’t want to hear. Do you understand?”
“He’s obsessed?”
Cassandra knelt by my knee while Bergman sat on the bed, unpacked his tools, and pretended not to listen. Actually, I hoped he was all ears. He could be just as obtuse as Vayl at times. “Please promise me you will never repeat what I am about to say.”
I thought of what Vayl had said about promises. Looked at Bergman and raised my eyebrows. He nodded. “I promise,” I said.
Cassandra looked over her shoulder.
“Me too,” he said.
She’d been clutching my tunic, almost begging for my word. Now that she had it, she dropped her hands to her lap and began. “Many of my Sisters have sought Vayl’s sons for him over the centuries.”
“So he wasn’t exaggerating?” I asked. “They really have been reincarnated?”
“Yes. Some of us have seen the possibility of the three men meeting, but always our visions end in disaster. Vayl is not ready to reunite with his sons. He has let their deaths immobilize him in some vital way. Until that changes, any encounter between them will lead to all of their deaths.”