I’m sure the cosmos has a greater purpose for surrounding me with patient people. But mostly it just makes me want to scream. Like now, while I waited for Asha Vasta to get the lead out and make with the explanations. While he pondered his reply I took another look upstairs, past the drab, window-filled walls of an old apartment building. There. A blur of movement out of the corner of my eye, but nothing more concrete. “I’ve never heard of the mahghul,” I said.
“I am not surprised. Though quite ancient, they have been confined by their creator to this land alone.” I thought he was going to go into more detail about the mahghuls’ maker, but he just shook his head sadly. “I am afraid they have found abundant fodder from which to feed and have, therefore, thrived when otherwise they might have perished.”
“So what are they?”
“They are parasitic fiends, seen by humans only when their blood has run. They can smell a murder coming days, sometimes even weeks, before it occurs. They flock to the rooftops, waiting, watching. But more than that. Making the husband think,
My wife has looked at another man
. Making the business partner suspect,
The books are unbalanced because I am being cheated
. Making the daughter believe,
There will never be an end to my misery. I might as well die
.”
“You can’t seriously be telling me some sort of otherworldly ambulance chaser makes people kill each other. Or themselves. Whatever happened to freedom of choice?”
“Certainly their suggestions would never work if people’s minds were not already open. If they were not already willing to listen.” Asha shook his head. “You would not believe how many are.”
I glared up into the darkness. “Why can’t I see them?”
After all, I’m not quite human anymore
. And then, to soothe the savage tear that thought put in my heart,
at least in the ways that don’t matter
.
“It is easier if you know their favorite roosting spots. There. Right at the corner of that roof, where it juts out slightly. Do you see?”
I couldn’t have without the extra visual acuity I’d gained by donating blood, and gaining power, from Vayl. And even then I got more of an impression than an actual photo image. Cat size. Bat wings. Alarming foot speed, aided by four muscular legs accentuated by impressive talons.
“What are those spikes beneath their eyes?” I asked.
“Their most terrifying aspect. In the moments of murder, the mahghul drive the spikes into the brains of both the victim and the murderer, and through them feed off the fury, the terror, all strong emotions such violence invokes. They leave no memory of their own attack. And so they can follow a murderer for years before the authorities put an end to their frenzy.”
“How do you fight them?”
“With you it is always the fight, is it not?”
“How —”
He held up a finger, signaling he hadn’t finished his thought. “Sometimes the best way to win a brawl is never to begin it in the first place.”
“Yeah, sure,” I said. “People are so good at that.”
“I can see why Raoul chose you.”
I took a step back. “You know Raoul?” I grabbed his shirt and yanked him into the recessed doorway of the nearest store, a bakery that looked like it had been plucked out of the thirties, with bare bulbs hanging from the ceiling and day-old breads displayed in the dusty window. Within seconds I’d pulled my bola and stuck the tip of the blade to the base of his throat. “You’re working for the Magistrate, aren’t you? What’s your plan, huh? Do you really think Raoul gives a shit whether or not one of his peons bites the bullet? He’s got thousands like me.” Well, at least one that I knew of.
Asha’s eyes, colored a sickly green by my night vision, rounded with alarm. “The mahghul,” he whispered. The flap of wings, the scratch of claws on concrete, confirmed his warning. “Jasmine, do not bring this plague upon yourself.”
“What makes you think you’ll be spared?”
“I am Amanha Szeya.”
“What’s that mean?”
“They sucked me dry long ago.”
Chapter Fourteen
I guess Asha and I stood in that darkened doorway another minute before I sheathed my knife and the mahghul retreated. He hadn’t tried to fight. That counted in his favor. So did the long-suffering expression on his face. Mostly, though, it was the thunderous voice in my ears, Raoul’s, shouting, “BACK OFF!” Okay, so I’d pulled a knife on one of the good guys. Did he have to yell?
“Sorry,” I muttered. “I’ve never drawn on an innocent before.”
Asha’s lips drooped into a sad smile. “I cannot remember a time when I was pure. But thank you.”
I rubbed my eyes. Looked to the rooftops and realized the mahghul weren’t just moving. They were gathering. “Hey. That’s Soheil Anvari’s building.”
“Yes.”
“I knew it! The minute I saw her face. She’s going to kill him out of self-defense, isn’t she? Or is he going to beat her to death? Either way, isn’t there something we can do?”
When Asha didn’t immediately answer, I looked him in the eye. He seemed . . . confused. “You are talking about Zarsa and Soheil, are you not?” he asked slowly.
“Yeah.”
“They are very happily married. Deeply in love, in fact, with four wonderful children. Neither would dream of lifting a hand against the other.”
“But I saw her tonight. She was veiled, but I still caught the black eye.”
“Oh, that.” Asha chuckled. “Yes, she was sitting on the floor with her youngest son on her lap, reading a book to him. When she turned the page the picture frightened him. He sat back quickly, knocking his head into her eye. She did not want people to think Soheil had done such a thing, so she went veiled.”
“But, Asha, she
was
miserable. You can’t fake that.”
“Yes, something has happened to change her. Something vile and traumatic. The mahghul have sensed it. I fear she will take her own life.”
I leaned against the glass of the storefront and thought,
Wrong again, Jaz. Grace wasn’t the mole. Asha wasn’t a bad guy. And Soheil wasn’t beating Zarsa. Hey, what do you say we go for four out of four and just assume this whitewash on your demon Mark is going to work forever and ever, amen?
“Why does Zarsa matter so much?” I asked.
“The future she chooses could change the course of this country.”
Oh, is that all?
“Do you want me to go talk to her?”
He regarded me with those basset hound eyes. “I think, perhaps, it would be more helpful if you spoke to Vayl.”
Where have you been?” Vayl wasn’t angry. I could tell by the gleam in his eye. The twitch in his lip. Any other man would’ve danced me across the floor when I walked through the door.
“Scoping out the neighborhood,” I told him. “I didn’t feel comfortable not knowing how to get in and out of here.” I hated lying to him so much that I promised myself I’d do some actual scouting the minute I had time.
“We must talk.” He led me to the sofa.
“Where is everybody?” I asked.
“Cassandra and Bergman are in the kitchen, working on the project I gave them. Cole went with David and his team to scout the Hotel Sraosa in case they need an interpreter. Do not worry, we can talk freely. Bergman has carded the entire house.”
“Did he find any more bugs?”
“No.” Vayl brushed off my question as if it was inconsequential and gestured for me to sit down. “I have exciting news,” he said as he joined me.
“You do?”
He draped one arm over the back of the couch and folded his left leg so he could sit comfortably sideways, facing me. I’d never seen him looking so . . . casual. It gave me the willies.