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

 “You guys okay?” It was Cole, sounding worried. I nearly snapped at him, but held it in check. It’s always hardest to wait.

 “We’re fine,” I said. “They’ve already risen, that’s all.”Of course they have. You knew that. Vamps don’t sleep in, you fool. They have places to go. People to eat. I moved on, following Pengfei’s trail back onto the stage. She had walked to the rear, taken the stairs off the east side, headed toward the gazebo. Even by night it beckoned.Stop here. Look at the bay. Step out of yourself for one second and acknowledge that there’s something more, something better out there.

 “Vayl,” I whispered as we reached the building.

 “I know.”

 Had he, like me, smelled it before he saw it?

 No. Not it. Her. That bitch, Pengfei, does not get to reduce anyone to an it.But she’d tried. Her victim lay on the floor of the structure, what was left of her anyway. Pengfei had mangled her neck like a poodle’s chew toy. Then she’d torn open the woman’s chest. Or maybe something else had. Because most of the contents were missing, including her heart.Reaver, whispered my mind, and my churning gut agreed.

 In fact, inspired by its proximity to real acrobats, my stomach proceeded to attempt a quadruple double- twisting backflip. Since it still hadn’t sifted through all the grease from its last meal, the results were not pretty. I left them in the bay.

 “Pengfei and Desmond Yale.” I spat out their names along with the taste of vomit. Weren’t they just the pretty pair? Which took my mind back to Samos, the Matchmaker from Hell. He should have his own Web site— psychodates.com. I could just see him making the morning talk show circuit. “Honest, Regis, it works every time! Our clients fill out a thirty-page personality profile. Yes, there’s a nominal charge, but we make akilling from the revenues! Haw, haw, haw!” How satisfying would it be to charge right out of the audience and shove my fist through his face? On a scale of one to ten? Ninety.

 Vayl’s hand on my arm brought my attention back to the present. “You cannot function if you let such feelings take hold,” he said.

 Don’t I know it. I looked down at my hands, shaking with the rage I felt at this senseless death. And yeah, a little bit at being the one who had to find her body, feel her pain, take her revenge. These were the times I wished I’d been more like Evie. If I could’ve been satisfied with her kind of life I could’ve avoided a buttload of pain.

 “What do we do?” I asked.

 “Find Pengfei.”

 “But this woman’s soul—”

 “—may still be in the eye of the reaver, or may already be lost. Either way, there is nothing you can do right now, especially if Pengfei is planning a disaster, as you suspect.”

 “For a guy who wants to live forever, you sure have a callous way of looking at death,” I snapped.

 Vayl stared at me until I met his eyes. “I could ask you where you get off saying such a thing, considering your profession,” he said, his tone so even I knew he was working to keep it that way. Which meant I’d better back down before he decided I needed a little hardening and I spent the next six weeks viewing corpses in all sorts of gruesome situations. “However, recognizing you have made the mistake of identifying with this woman, I will simply remind you to keep your mind on the job and save the souls you can.”

 I turned away. Vayl was right. I couldn’t rescue them all. I looked over my shoulder, hating myself because I couldn’t cry— because it would smear my makeup. Boy was I ever into my part now. All I had to do was steal some kid’s cotton candy and I could easily pass for the biggest louse on earth.

 “Jasmine, stop slouching,” ordered Vayl, taking out the remnants of his ire on my posture. “Pengfei does not slouch.”

 “She should. Actually, she should slither. Then, the next time I see her, I can just stomp her head in.” With that grimly satisfying picture in my head I followed Pengfei’s steps back to the Winter Festival, down the same path Cole and I had taken only a couple of days before. What a contrast now. Crowded with bright-eyed, laughing families, lined with carefully painted booths and rides that looked like they’d been built by NASA and lit by the White House Christmas decorators, the Corpus Christi Winter Festival seemed like an idea plucked from the mind of Einstein.

 We left the path just before we reached the Chinese Acrobats’ Arena. Pengfei’s route had taken her behind the multicolored building into the center of the acrobats’ camp. The place practically echoed since the show was on. We could hearooh s andaah s and occasional bursts of applause from where we stood, staring at the back of a small Winnebago.

 “Nice propane tanks,” I said lamely.

 “Yes,” Vayl agreed.

 “I don’t get why her presence is heavier here. Nothing seems out of place to me. How about you?”

 Vayl stooped and looked beneath the camper while I climbed to view the top of it. When we’d rejoined each other we both shook our heads. Nothing.

 “Moving on?” I asked.

 “I suppose so,” he said.

 I went back into squint mode and followed Pengfei’s by now familiar trail. It led us directly to the arena. She’d bypassed the main entrance and followed one puffy red wall to the back of the building where a smaller purple structure attached to the main body. It allowed the acrobats quick access to the large open space within.

 “She went in here,” I whispered. The crowd applauded as something impressive just happened. We stepped inside the entryway for a better view, but a black curtain had been drawn to hide the area in which we stood along with about two feet of the back wall. The house band switched from tension-building music to a dance-in-your-seat tune. I grabbed Vayl’s arm. “She’s in here.”

 We peered through an opening in the curtain. “There,” said Vayl. “She is in the front row, wearing the white