Vayl nodded. “I understand.”
“But . . .” I cleared my throat, lowered my eyelashes, trying not to seem too eighteenth-century miss and blushing like a schoolgirl anyway. “I don’t, I still feel kinda”—I made a gagging sound that raised both of Vayl’s eyebrows as I continued—“when I think of relationships.”
Again with the dimple.
I shrugged, trying for nonchalant and utterly failing. “You never know.”
“In the meantime, would you care to fill me in on the rest of your day’s agenda?”
“Actually, it sucked. I had to kill Shao’s brother because he was possessed by a reaver. And now that I know what reavers are about, I’m almost certain Yale and Pengfei mean to disrupt the festival somehow.” I told him Jericho and his buds would be providing undercover security, for which I heaved an audible sigh of relief.
Vayl said, “It sounds to me as if you need some fresh air. Shall we find ourselves a Chinese Dragon Lady?”
“Yeah, but how? And if she’s with Lung—”
“Which is likely—”
“How do we separate them?”
“If we are masters at anything, besides assassination, it is thinking on our feet. We will work it out when we have a situation to actually—how do you say—scope out.”
“Okay. So. Finding her. That’s going to be a challenge. It’s a big city, Vayl.”
“I think you have the ability to track her, Jasmine,” he said earnestly. “Remember how you found me in the parking lot of our hotel in Miami?”
“Yeah, but you were within a few yards of me.”
“That is true. But we must begin somewhere. And perhaps wearing Pengfei’s dress will help direct your Sensitivity even further. These are not just random ideas, you know. In the past, Sensitives have been documented as having the ability to hunt vampires.”
“Do we have any idea where to start looking though?”
“We can make an educated guess. We know Pengfei and Lung do not spend their daylight hours aboard the
“Okay.” If I sounded less than enthusiastic it might’ve been because I thought it was a really far-fetched idea. Unfortunately I couldn’t come up with a better one, so we were stuck.
Fully dressed, with the medallion tucked under my collar and the translator wire woven in and around my wig hair, I minced down the RV’s hallway. I’d spent what moments I could spare that afternoon watching Pengfei reruns on Bergman’s laptop, trying to master her mannerisms. I was doing my best, but something felt wrong.
Cole had a great view from his perch in the driver’s seat. He whistled when he saw me. “Freaky!”
“I agree,” said Cassandra. She had donned a new Psychics-R-Us costume and was helping Bergman pack the last bits of his modular lab away in plastic bins. That he had allowed anyone, much less her, to touch his sacred bits said that he’d taken my last lecture pretty seriously. I hoped this was a solid sign he didn’t want to grow up to be a big, skinny creep.
He noticed me watching him and said, “Our benefactors sent over a sound system about an hour ago. As soon as we get done here we’ll go over there and set it up.” He left what he was doing to hand out mouth-mints and hearing aids. “We’ll be using the same communications system as when we set up video surveillance on the yacht. Transmitting wasn’t a big deal there because we were all so close. In this case it’ll be more of a challenge.”
He gave Vayl and me the fake tattoos we’d used on our last mission. Mine was a dragon. Ironic, huh? Vayl’s was a line of barbed wire. They would allow us to transmit from much greater distances. Once Bergman had outfitted and tested us, Cole nudged Vayl to get his attention. “Are you sure you don’t need some help? I could carry your crossbow.” He glanced at the weapon, which Vayl lifted from its resting place as if it weighed nothing.
“This is a job for two,” he said.
“Okay”—sigh of disappointment—“call if you need me.”
“I will need you,” I reminded him. “Don’t assume Pengfei’s going to speak to me in English. I’m gonna need a fast translation of whatever she says and it can’t be from some guy lurking in the bushes. You know what I mean? This has got to be done right.”
Cole nodded, sitting a little straighter now that he understood the crucial nature of his role. “Gotcha.”
“Do we still have Jericho’s card?” I asked Cassandra.
“Yes.”
“If something goes down, call him.” Cassandra dove into her purse. After unearthing three pairs of sunglasses, a tile sample, and a box of tampons that made Bergman literally leap for the door, she found it.
“Good job,” said Cole as he took it from her and keyed the number into his phone.“Remind me to bring you on my next mining expedition.”
“I need this stuff,” she said as she returned the items to their rightful places.
I shook my head. I didn’t even own a purse. “We have to go.”
