“Jasmine, are you all right?” Raoul whispered.
“Sure? Why?” He nodded to his arm. Without thinking I’d dug my nails in so deep I’d made purple marks. I immediately moved my hands up to his biceps. “Sorry. I didn’t realize.”
“You did see Samos just now, yes?” asked Raoul. “That must be worth the sacrifice you made to come here.”
Not knowing the parameters of the forfeit, I was hardly in a position to say. “I guess. I mean, it helps. But knowing me, just being able to ID the guy wouldn’t be enough to make me give up something I cherished. I think there’s something more.”
“Perhaps the reason he has agreed to sponsor the reavers?”
I shook my head. “I imagine it’s straight revenge, just like Uldin Beit.” Samos must think I’d killed his right hand, his
avhar,
an Asian vamp with a thing for pastel suits named Shunyuan Fa. I hadn’t. But I’d had a near-death encounter with Fa, who’d lost his head during a failed coup later that evening. I didn’t know what Fa had said to his
sverhamin
about me before going smoky, if anything. But Samos knew I’d taken out a rookie reaver on the same yacht where he’d placed Fa as his emissary. The evidence tying me to Fa was so rickety you wouldn’t want to cross a steep gorge on it, but it probably worked for him. Shoot, most juries would hang me on less.
“Come forward,” the Magistrate told Uldin Beit as he stood and moved away from his rock.
The seated demons showed noticeable signs of excitement. Tongues hung out, eyes bulged, and, uh, other things as well as she obeyed a little unsteadily. As she knelt before him, he uncoiled his whip.
“Oh shit, Raoul, tell me this isn’t happening.”
“I wish I could.”
I didn’t want to watch but felt I had to. This was the price I was willing to pay her for killing her mate.
The Magistrate reared back, the whip flying behind him and then shooting forward as his arm fell. Uldin Beit’s blood exploded into the air. I flinched. She screamed. And I knew no revenge could be worth this. Again and again the whip lashed, literally cutting the skin from the reaver’s back, until the Magistrate held the strips up in one bloody hand.
“Here!” he roared. “The pound of flesh! Do you bear witness!”
“Aye!” the demons bellowed back.
“I’ve seen enough,” I told Raoul. “Let’s get outta here.”
“That’s when I woke up on the Chinook, ten minutes out from the LZ.” I avoided Dave’s eyes. He could probably tell I was lying. That I’d had a few more harrowing experiences before hell finally released me. But no way was I going to share those details with a room full of strangers, including an employee of the Wizard.
“So
you
brought these reavers down on us?” asked the amazon. Bergman decided he didn’t care for her company and moved to the window next to Natch, the giant.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name,” I said.
“That’s because I didn’t throw it,” she replied.
We stared each other down, neither willing to budge. “That’s Grace Jensen,” said the medic, who seemed to feel we girls should stick together in a predominantly man’s world. Ignoring Grace’s dirty look she added, “And I’m Adela Reyes.”
“Nice to meet you,” I told her. “You do excellent work.”
She gave me a just-doing-my-job shrug. “These guys are tough. It’s going to take a lot more than a few stitches to keep them down.”
I nodded, hiding my smile as chests puffed around the room. “That’s obvious.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” snapped Amazon Grace.
I gave her a leisurely look, knowing it would irritate her, wondering how far I should push her. Could she be the mole? Trying to stir up conflict within the unit in order to undermine the mission? Hard to say. It could just be an honest reaction to us stepping on her turf and putting her buddies in harm’s way.
“I gave you this information as a courtesy,” I told her, “because I believe you’ll function more effectively if you understand what’s happening and why. But here’s the deal, Grace. My boss and I have been assigned to kill a man and that’s what we’re going to do. You can be part of our team, or you can be a tool we use to get our job done. Either way we have success. You just have to decide if you want to be happy or miserable.”
While Grace digested the fact that she’d just been outbitched, I went on, speaking to the rest of Dave’s people. “When the Magistrate asked Uldin Beit the name of her sponsor, she responded by saying ‘Edward Samos.’ That doesn’t mean anything to you, but it’s hugely significant to us. Samos is the CIA’s top target, an American-born vampire with aspirations toward world domination — the sooner we nail him the better. You have to understand that all reavers need an earthly sponsor. Somebody who can provide them with bodies to inhabit and souls to snatch.”
This was all true. Now for the lie.
“We’ve also discovered that Samos has been watching the Wizard’s movements with interest for quite a while. He intends to use his reavers to shanghai the Wizard’s body and, as a result, his entire operation. At which point I guarantee he’ll make the Wizard’s past exploits look like a practical joke. So, feel free to be pissed that reavers have been sent after me. Just remember, as soon as I’m out of the picture, they’re going after the big game.”
The seed had been planted. Now we’d watch and wait. Hopefully the mole would find it necessary to pass this juicy morsel on to the Wizard. As soon as he or she tried to make contact, we’d close in. And then we’d have him. I looked at Grace. Or her.
Chapter Three
So,” said David, after taking a few minutes to mull it all over, “here’s my take. A pound of flesh has to buy more than a single raid. I figure we’ve got at least one more assault to throw back. And logic dictates it’ll happen when we make the move to the truck.”
The truck was a semi, returning empty from its Tehran-to-Baghdad run. Somewhat miraculously we’d found a driver willing to get us into the city in return for six visas to New Jersey for himself and his family.
“I don’t know if I’ll be any help to you during the actual fighting,” Bergman said as he shoved his glasses up the bridge of his nose. For him, it was a brave moment, surrounded as he was by men much bigger and scarier than he. “But I did bring you a weapon I’ve developed that might make things a little easier on you.” It was one of the main reasons he’d been allowed to come along.
After our last mission he’d flown back to his lab. And despite the fact that Cassandra had insisted he’d be needed on this job, when he’d called me a week later, I’d said, “Stay home, Miles. Work. Rest. You need a break from us. From this craziness. It’s so not your thing.”
“I need to come with you, Jaz.”
“No.” We were both remembering the last time out, when Vayl had taken the bad guy’s blood and part of his power. Even though Bergman couldn’t explain it scientifically, Vayl had been able to call from within himself a bio-armor based partially on Bergman’s own invention. It had blown Bergman’s mind. That and Cassandra’s ability to mask my looks with a magical amulet had hammered at his core beliefs hard enough to rattle him teeth to shins.
We sat silent on the phone while Bergman mustered his arguments. I looked at my watch. I’d promised to meet Cole at the shooting range. I was about to be late.
“I’m tired of being afraid, Jasmine. If I keep running and hiding . . . if I don’t ever come out of my cocoon. Well, I’m never going to have a life.”