Where have you been? I demanded. Granny May could’ve used backup when Brude was doing his mental manipulations before, you know.
She sniffed and shut the drawer. I’ve been organizing.
That’s no help!
She raised a slender eyebrow at me and tucked a stray curl into her French twist. You’d be surprised.
For instance, right now I’m compiling a list of every item you’ve ever heard, read, or learned about the Thin. If Brude wants to create a new hell based there, maybe something you know can alter his plans. That might send him spinning out of your head. Alternatively, knowing more about his species might help. You have no innate knowledge, so I suggest a session with Astral or, perhaps, Raoul.
You know, for a brainiac, you’re not half bad. Just don’t let Brude know what you’re up to.
Robert, that.
Um, it’s Roger.
Oh. Sorry.
Well, it looks as if you are marshaling your forces. Brude strode to the forefront of my mind, grabbing me so firmly by the intellect that I froze in place. It will not work, my Jasmine. You must understand, I am here for you. And also for what you can do for me.
What do you mean?
I already told you I never do anything for a single reason. So I slipped into your mind, which is
—he looked around and licked his lips— nearly as delectable as your body. Because I promised to make you my queen, did I not? But you never asked why. Why you?
He wants to transform the Thin into a chaotic realm and destroy hell, my librarian reminded me.
Granny May rose from her front porch rocker. But he’ll never do that without a massive army to fight Lucifer’s hordes.
Where’s he gonna get that many lost souls? wondered Teen Me as she sat on the ledge, dangling one leg over while she leafed through one of Granny May’s comic books.
“From me,” I whispered.
Bergman had leaned across the table, his hands inches from mine like he thought I might need to be pulled from the brink of something anytime now. “What are you saying?” he asked.
I couldn’t look at him. My eyes, glued to the covered barbecue, only saw my inner visions. Vayl stirred in his seat, gently lifting Pajo from his lap. “May I suggest that you take your parents inside?” he told the little boy. “Perhaps Jack will accompany you as well. Then you and Laal can play with him while Mum and Dad decide what to do next.”
Murmurs of agreement from the parents. The shoosh-snick of sliding-glass doors opening and closing. I forced the words through a throat so suddenly parched it felt like it was lined with sand- paper. “Brude knows who I am. He believes if he can subvert my missions, he can cause just the kind of death toll he needs to build up his forces. And what better way to do that than from inside my head?” I felt my lips cracking. Next would come the blood. I turned to Vayl. “I have to withdraw from this assignment. I need to take a leave of absence.”
“Absolutely not,” he said. “You and I are a formidable team. If they separate us—they win.”
“But… Vayl… the son of a bitch is in my mind. He can make me—do things. What if —” Vayl leaned forward. Not much. Just the fraction it took to capture my attention. Something about the intensity in his bright blue eyes demanded that I listen, not just to his words, but to the things he couldn’t say. Because Brude would overhear. “We will beat him. That is what you and I do, my pretera. We win.
Together.”
His touch, just a whisper of fingertips grazing my thigh, spelled out a sign we used for face-to-face attacks. I was so distracted by the zap of awareness his fingers raised, followed by an unbearable need to scratch, that I nearly missed the message. You go in loud and annoying. I will slide in under the radar to make the kill.
What the hell is that supposed to mean?
He caught me in his gaze, stared at me hard like I should be able to read his mind. Geez, Cassandra, I wish you were here right this second so I could slap your hand on his and get a freaking clue!
He whispered, “Trust me.”
Aw, shit.
CHAPTERSEVENTEEN
We joined Ruvin in the living room. He shook everyone’s hand with a grip so firm I know my fingers tingled afterward. “We just can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done for us. You Hollywood types are so gifted! I wish I had half the talent!” He nodded toward the bedroom. “Tabitha thought it would be better for the boys if we talked privately.”
We’d all had enough of sitting. We wanted to run off in twelve different directions. Find the Rocenz.
Continue discrediting the shaman. Destroy the larvae carriers. Demon-proof the house. But it seemed rude to tower over the little man, so we all sat. Vayl and I took the couch. Bergman sank into a chair.
