“Holy crap.” I knew one thing. Even if everything turned out great, if Vayl transformed his whole world and pulled off a happily-ever-after, this was one particular promise I’d be taking to my grave.
Now I watched Zarsa murmur something that made Cole squirm in his chair as Vayl nodded eagerly. “What if she tells him?” I asked myself for the fifteenth time. “Naw.” Cassandra had already made it clear how particular Seers were when it came to moral issues. Cross the line and you can forget ever working in the field again. Nope, Zarsa would be breaking Vayl’s heart any . . . minute . . . now.
He got up. Gave her some money and that half smile that drives me wild when I let it. Walked out the door. Whistling.
Oh. Shit.
My first instinct was to rush back to the house. Dive right into damage control. Then I remembered Vayl telling me another Seer had predicted he’d meet his sons in America. That’s why he’d emigrated from Romania, or wherever he’d been living at the time. I wasn’t actually sure. Anyway, he certainly wasn’t going to be joining them until we’d finished this mission, so I had some time. And I really needed to use it to calm down.
Because I kinda wanted to kill him.
Never mind the fact that he should be . . . we should be . . . well, it’s about time for fireworks between us and he’s taken off with the lighter. Not to mention we’re planning a major hit in enemy territory and his first choice is to go trotting off to visit a psychic!
I fumed.
How stupid is that?
Not stupid. Desperate. After all this time, he’s still a grief-stricken father. Really, what would you do if you thought you could be with Matt again?
But that’s just it. I can’t. I accept that now. We had our time. And it was glorious.
But if he came back today?
My mind wouldn’t go there. But Vayl’s had, almost right away. So I had to wonder, for his sake, what do you do when it’s over before you’re ready for it to be over? Do you chase that relationship, that role you assumed, for the rest of your existence? Was Vayl looking for his sons because he couldn’t give up fatherhood? Because it made him the person he wanted most to be?
I had asked him about Hanzi and Badu once. “So you want to meet them? Make friends? Be . . . a father to them?”
“I
am
their father!” he’d snapped. “That is the one, incontrovertible truth of my existence.”
If so, what did that mean for us? Somehow I knew other women before me had stood in the dust of his wake as wagon, horse, stagecoach, and train bore him away on yet another wild chase for his boys.
“No,” I murmured. “Not me. I’m not losing another one.” I barely heard myself as I descended from the roof. On such a badly lit street, it was easy to keep to the shadows, avoid detection, as I shadowed him.
Which was why I sensed the reaver long before he could get a bead on me.
Something at the entrance to my sinuses went, “Holy crap, that’s just disgusting!” Though it wasn’t as much an odor as an awareness that something monstrous had entered the neighborhood. I peered over my shoulder. There, unmistakable, that black outline. He loped down the narrow street behind me, one hand flopping at his waist as if he’d been running for miles. The other held a cell phone to his ear. Every few seconds the flop hand reached up and swatted at something that seemed to buzz around his head. I eased into the gap between a hand-lettered sign that had been tied to a storefront and the smooth, weathered stone of the building itself. I figured to let him go. He couldn’t nail me now that I was protected. And I couldn’t risk the mission by outing myself, even if it was to rid the world of a soul-stealing monster. Maybe after we were done I could come back. Do some cleanup.
I’d just begun working out the logistics in my mind when the reaver passed me. “I’m telling you, Samos,” he growled into the phone, “we followed her to this area and then she just disappeared.” Up went the flop hand. Swat, swat, though no bugs had bothered me the whole time I’d been outside. “We thought we could catch her using this one body, but it’s going to take some time to find her now. We need more.” He jerked his eyes left, right, left again. “Shut up,” he growled, as if to invisible listeners. “I’m telling him, aren’t I?” Either the guy had multiple personality disorder, or . . .
I slipped out of my hiding place, following him as stealthily as I could. Though he was so distracted by his phone call and the need to flail every few seconds I don’t think he’d have seen me if I’d walked past him naked.
“I don’t care what you have to do!” the reaver snapped. “You’re the Sponsor and we need bodies. This form was not made to hold six reavers at once. Its brain is shorting out. You wouldn’t believe what it’s starting to see!” He listened for a few more seconds. “You’re the one who’s lost an
avhar
,” he finally hissed. “If you want your revenge on the Lucille, you’re going to have to do better than that!”
My hands itched to grab that phone. God, if only I was free to follow this lead! I might be able to pin down Samos’s location from the signal.
“Channel Fourteen?” said the reaver, “Yes, this body is familiar with it.” He listened intently, and from the way his shoulders relaxed, liked what he heard. “You’re sure they’ll be receptive?” Short pause, shorter nod. “Excellent. I’ll contact you when it’s done.” He ended the call, pocketed the phone, batted at his unseen pests, and changed course.
I stood in the shadows, debating. Maybe it would be better to take him out after all. Right now he seemed to be in a weakened condition. If I waited until later, he’d have infested five more bodies, and it was hard enough to kill one of them.
Okay, not so tough when you have Dave’s kick-ass colleagues in tow. But I doubt we’ll be able to sail through Tehran with our Manxes on display when we finally have time for a reaver hunt. Plus, there’s the phone to consider. No. I’ve got to do this now.
I reached underneath the shapeless black manteau I’d thrown over my inside clothes. Began to slide my bolo from the pocket of my sky-blue pants as I stepped into the street. I stopped immediately, my forward progress suddenly blocked by a broad-shouldered, white-bearded man dressed in a black pullover with elaborate embroidery around its V-neck, matching black pants, and sandals. It was the words he said as much as his imposing physical presence that shut me down.
“Please do not kill the reaver tonight, Jasmine.” He pronounced my name Yaz-mee-na, just like Vayl does. “The mahghul may not have come for you, but they will take you if you spill blood in this place this evening.” His gesture invited me to scan the rooftops, but I took a good look at him instead.
He towered over me, his royal-blue turban probably putting him close to six and a half feet tall. His droopy eyes and long nose gave him a despondent air. Kinda like a Persian Eeyore.
“How do you know me?” I demanded, glancing in the direction he’d pointed. Even with my night vision activated I couldn’t see anything moving above us.
“This is my home. It is my business to know who comes and goes here.”
“Actually, in this case, no. It’s not.”
When he smiled his whole face joined in, from the crinkles in his forehead to the curls in his beard. He held out his hand. “My name is Asha Vasta.”
I declined to shake. “How do you know about reavers?”
I found his sigh eerily familiar. It so closely echoed the one Vayl put to use after I’d lost my temper. Usually it was followed by words like “How can you stare through the scope of a rifle for three hours without saying a word and yet, as soon as you hit traffic, begin yelling? Like that. Can you be sure that man is an idiot? Maybe he has low blood sugar. And that woman you just compared to a female dog. Perhaps she just learned her husband is in the hospital and she is rushing to be with him.”