Bite Marks

“What?” he murmured.

“I’ve… kinda got some company… mentally speaking.”

“You mean… you’re schizophrenic?” He studied me carefully. “You seem pretty pulled together about the whole thing. Shouldn’t you be more paranoid than I am? You know”—he wiggled his fingers and rolled his eyes—“watchers in the woodwork and stuff like that?”

“I’m not—Bergman, I bit a Domytr during my last mission and now his spirit has possessed me. Not completely. But, uh, he’s making some headway. So we have to figure out how to boot him before I start acting the submissive little queen he’s been jonesing for since we met.”

“Geez, Jaz, Domytr’s are badass.”

“You’ve heard of them?” I couldn’t believe it. I had a pretty thorough education, Cassandra’s knowledge put that to shame, and neither one of us had heard of Brude’s kind before he’d shoved his tats in our faces.

“Well, you know, I’m signed with groups outside the CIA.” His teeth clicked shut and his face got that lemony- squish look that told me he’d done the I-know-nothing ass-clench.

Still I tried. “Come on, Bergman. What can you tell me about Domytrs? Knowledge is power, man.”

“They used to be human.”

“I already know that.”

“Like you.”

“What… do you mean?”

“Sensitives. Saved for something better. Who knows, maybe they even rose to Raoul’s status. That’s what my clients thought anyway. That they turned traitor sometime in the afterlife. Not sure how the, uh, people I worked for came to that conclusion, but they had some pretty good sources.” Sure, that made sense. Temptation was one of evil’s most effective weapons. And Brude struck me as a greedy creep.

“Bergman, were you able to fulfill your contract?” asked Vayl. None of us had even noticed my sverhamin slip into the room, we’d been so intent on the picture show and the talk that followed. Now I couldn’t believe I’d missed him. Only the cold bite of his power lifting the hairs on the back of my neck let me know how he’d pulled it off.

“What do you mean?” For a smart guy Bergman played dumb pretty well.

“Your clients would never have given you those details unless they had hired you to build a weapon that could defeat such a creature. Did you succeed?”

Miles pulled down the brim of his cap. “Not yet.”

Vayl nodded, unsurprised. He spun his cane, making the blue jewel on its tip glitter in the lamplight. “If we can find this Rocenz, separate the pieces, and carve Brude’s name on the gates of hell, I believe it will reduce him to the dust to which his original body has already fallen.” Bergman shot me a look. Pure suspicion. He stared back at Vayl and said, “Are you sure we should be talking this way in front of—” He jerked his head at me. But he meant Brude, who’d be listening intently.

Unless he was an idiot. Which he wasn’t. Dammit.

“Of course,” Vayl replied. “If he knows how great the odds are that he will end up as fodder, perhaps he will voluntarily release Jasmine.”

More conversation followed. Details I really should’ve paid attention to. Brude was probably taking notes and making flashcards. But Vayl’s costume kept distracting me. Because it made him look like a rock star. I hadn’t expected the jacket to be so… oh-baby! It was the kind you wear when riding a Harley. That offset, silver-zipper style that makes a woman’s mouth water when it’s worn open to reveal the broad chest of a vampire at the height of his powers.

“Jasmine?” Vayl asked. “Were you going to say something?”

I realized my mouth was hanging open and cranked it shut. My head started to itch. Great. Not only had the rash spread, now I’d look like I had dandruff while I was relieving the irritation. “I’m covered in bumps,” I said glumly.

“Some more interesting than others,” he replied softly as he reached my side.

“Would you shut up ? Bergman’s, like, five feet away!” My eyes darted to our techie, but he’d opened his backpack and appeared to be rummaging through it as happily as a kid in a toy box.

“You look, how do you say?” He dropped that crooked smile on me that makes my knees unlock.

“Hot.” The last word, barely a whisper, lost itself in my hair as he pressed his lips to that spot just below my ear that can, apparently, flip the off switch in my brain. Before I realized it my hands were inside that jacket, stroking the hard planes of his chest and stomach. And then, as if moving without any prompting from me they reached down, undid his belt, pulled it loose, and…

“Ahhh, that feels great,” I moaned.

“I am completely grossed out over here!” Cassandra informed us.

Vayl, who’d been peering down at me with an expression of utter disbelief, stared at Cassandra over the top of my head. “It is not what you think,” he assured her.

“As if I’d do something that disgusting,” I said, pulling away from him, but keeping the belt, because the buckle relieved the itching so much better than fingernails. I continued using it to scratch the inflamed skin across my stomach as I sat down by Cassandra.

“You are pathetic,” she told me.

“I’d get all offended, but I’m pretty sure you’re right.”

I ignored Vayl’s glare, after all he probably had a spare belt in his suitcase, and concentrated on Miles, who’d found his treasure. “Here it is!” he said triumphantly. “The new, improved party line!” He’d invented the group-