Jennifer Rardin [Jaz Parks series book 2] Another One Bites The Dust

 “What do you want?” demanded the driver. Maybe he felt safe because of his size. He certainly filled out his powder-blue blazer, and if he had a neck, it was squatting behind his thin black tie.

 “I want to know why you felt it appropriate to send your son to damage my property,” Vayl said in his I’m- about-to-lose-it voice. It can be deceiving to those who don’t know him because it’s so soft. Almost unassuming. But when people get next to it, and ignore it, generally they can count the remainder of their lives in breaths.

 Since the driver was a stranger to Vayl’s more dangerous moods, I expected him to make up some bullshit story about how one of the boys had lost his wallet and they’d just driven them back to the festival so they could try to find it. At nearly three a.m. On a Monday morning. Maybe he knew how lame that was going to sound, though, because he said, “Our boys are doing God’s work and we are proud of them. Psychics are no more than witches, and they are an affront against God.”

 “An affront,” my fella agreed.

 “What’s your name, fella?” I asked him.

 “George Velestor,” he said.

 “You ever formed an original thought in your life, George?”

 He looked at the driver.

 “Apparently not.” I kept talking because Vayl’s power had spiked, and I figured if I didn’t do something quick, we’d soon be dealing with a van full of Popsicle people. “What’s your name, driver?”

 His glance took in my hair, boobs, eyes, boobs, and then eyes again. I wondered how many people would miss him if he quietly disappeared. “My name’s Dale Spizter, ma’am.”

 “You married, Dale?”

 “Sure am.”

 “Then keep your damn eyes off my chest.”

 His head jerked away and I thought I heard the boys snicker. Vayl opened the door. “What are you doing?” demanded Dale.

 “Get out.”

 “I will not.”

 Vayl’s voice rang with cold, hard power. “The four of you will exit this vehicle and precede us back to the RV.” His face might’ve resembled a mask to our guests, but I could see the muscles in his jaws working, the vein in his forehead throbbing. Not happy signs.

 Like good little puppets, they jumped to it. The men, however, looked like they expected to be struck down from above at any moment. They drooped even farther when we reached our destination and mustered up a couple of bowls full of soapy water and some paper towels. Vayl set up the lawn chairs, invited Cassandra outside, and the three of us watched them clean up the mess they’d made. He’d also brought out a flashlight, so she got to point out the spots they’d missed. She found quite a few.

 I thought Vayl had taken enough satisfaction from this revenge until he stood and started pacing. I couldn’t take my eyes off that cane, digging deeper and deeper gouges into the ground with every other step.

 “We’re done,” said Dale. He dropped his wad of paper towels in the water and rolled the sleeves of his suit coat down.

 I stood up. “Fine. Get out.”

 “No. I have a few words to say,” he announced.

 They always do.

 “Dale, maybe we should go,” said George. I liked him better when he was echoing my opinions.

 “God has brought us here for a reason, George,” Dale said in that singsong TV-preacher voice that makes my molars ache. “We must uphold our responsibility to hiyum—”

 I felt the power winding up in Vayl and suddenly understood where blizzards begin. I also knew clearly why my guy needed anavhar . If he killed these men in front of their sons, beyond the obvious tragic consequences, he’d be doing irreparable damage to his own soul. Both my instinct and a sudden heat from Cirilai told me so.

 I strode forward, planting myself firmly between Dale and mysverhamin . “Dale, you are so far out of line that if this was a NASCAR race you’d be in the grass. I’m not going to argue philosophy or religion with you. Think what you think. I really don’t give a crap. But here’s the deal: Standing behind me is a vampire who’s quite capable of icing you like an Alpine ski slope. He is deeply pissed that you’ve insulted his Seer. But she’s a grown-up and he’ll eventually get past that.”

 I closed the distance between us because Dale had puffed out his chest and begun rocking from foot to foot, starting his little I-am-the-man dance before I’d even finished. I slammed him hard in the diaphragm with the heel of my hand, backing him up, taking the strut right out of him.

 “Listen up, asshole,” I hissed. “Because what I’m about to say may just save your life. My boss here is trying very hard not to rip a great big hole in your throat, but more and more he’s thinking, ‘Why the hell not? Here’s a guy who thinks nothing of sending his son, who should be more precious to him than his own soul, into mortal danger. Aaron will probably be safer if I just kill his father now.’”

 I looked at George. “Same goes for you and James, Xerox.”

 Aaron came up to me and grabbed my arm. “Please”—his desperate glance went to Vayl—“please don’t kill my dad.”

 I told him, “Once a farmer murdered two boys just about your age. Why? Because he was ignorant. Too stupid to ask questions. Too narrow-minded to wonder if maybe things had changed while he was looking the other way. If I’d known the man before that instant, I would’ve killed him. And by killing him, I would’ve saved those boys’ lives.” I stared into Aaron’s eyes. I spent some time on James as well. “Vayl is wondering if he needs to save your lives now, the same way I would’ve saved his sons. Or if you have the brains and the courage to do that for