“I guess not.” We both stood, refusing to meet each other’s eyes, knowing neither one of us was convinced. But at this point we had no choice but to stick to our current mission.
“Do you think we should move the bodies?” I asked.
“Ideally we’d bury them,” he said, “but I don’t want anyone caught outside when the next wave comes. And we don’t have time to bury so many. We’ll leave them,” he decided.
“On the other issue,” I said, as he turned back toward the farmhouse. He stopped, dropped his head. I knew the very idea of a traitor in his band tore him up. These guys were as close as humans could get. In forty years they’d still be in touch, still want to know how it was going, still need to share the memories. To know one of their number had betrayed them must have wounded him to the core.
“The trap has been set,” I said. “Keep an eye out for an effort to make contact.” He nodded, his eyes still on the ground, and went inside.
Chapter Four
Dave’s crew had begun their love affair with the guns by the time we got back, exclaiming over Bergman’s improvements on their M4s, including a shorter barrel for street fighting, a built-in silencer, and a well-armored computer sensor on the barrel that read return fire and gave you those coordinates, automatically siting you in if you wished. The biggest improvement was in weight, since Bergman had crafted the weapon from a new alloy he’d invented that was not only lighter, but also required less maintenance.
As Bergman handed out ammunition, he explained that the Manx, as he liked to call the small, ferocious weapon, was a multitasker: Sensors built into the butt of the rifle could sniff out a vast array of biological and chemical toxins. In addition, every third round was equipped with something he referred to as an infrared dye. Anything it hit was bathed in that light, allowing the shooter to see farther than his goggles or, in our case, lenses, would normally allow.
Bergman had actually brought a few pairs of his night-vision lenses along as well. “They’ll only work if you have twenty-twenty to start with,” he warned. “I didn’t have time to check your prescriptions and make special ones. But if you like them, I’ll customize some for you when I get back.” The offer, a generous one from any perspective, surprised me. He must’ve had to make a lot of promises to get his skinny butt on our jet.
While Cam, Ashley, and Natch tried out the lenses, I decided to make some formal introductions.
“Dave, I’d like you to meet my crew.” I led him to the corner we’d commandeered.
“Everybody,” I said, “this is my brother, Dave. Dave, this is Cole. He’s our interpreter.” Cole had been leaning against the wall, chewing on the collar of his dark gray thobe. Like me, he’d dyed his hair black for this mission, but it still ran wild, sticking out from under his cap in every direction as if directly reflecting his stress over popping his last bubble nearly twelve hours ago. He spat out the collar and shook Dave’s hand.
“Pleased to meet you. Do they give you guys gum in the army? Chewing tobacco? Anything like that?” He looked at me. “What?”
“Shut up,” I mouthed.
Dave frowned at me. “An interpreter seems redundant. Otto speaks Farsi.”
I raised my eyebrows.
He’s only redundant if Otto’s not the mole.
Dave got the message. Out loud I said, “Cole is also in training. He’ll be going solo after this mission.”
Cole dug out his most charming smile. “Plus, I have somewhat of an insider’s knowledge of Tehran. I dated a girl whose parents were born there. They left to study in America and never went back.” He looked at me. “She really dug tea.”
“Why’d you leave her?” I asked, knowing it hadn’t been the other way around.
“Couldn’t hack all the praying. We have arthritis in the family, you know. I’d have had to get knee replacements before I was fifty.”
I turned to Dave. “He grows on you.”
Vayl stood beside him, his hand wrapped firmly around the head of his cane. Somehow he managed to look as if he belonged, as if he’d been chiseled out of the same stone as the walls of the farmhouse. His short dark curls were nearly hidden beneath his turban, which accentuated his winged brows, fine Roman nose, and full lips. Those lips had brushed mine once and nearly sent my heart tumbling out of my chest. But I could never forget they hid a pair of fine, sharp fangs. Yeah, you had to be careful about Vayl’s unseen qualities. Those were what would kill you.
He turned to face us fully as we approached. Can nerves tighten? Mine felt like fishing line. The kind with an obese accountant on one end and a nine-hundred-pound tiger shark on the other. I cleared my throat. “This is my boss, Vayl.”
Dave didn’t quite stand at attention, but he pulled his shoulders way back and totally blanked his face, the way he does when something’s made him deeply uncomfortable. “You, uh, you’re not human, are you?”
Total silence fell in the room behind us. I couldn’t believe Dave was so out of touch with his Sensitivity. What the hell did he use it for?
“No,” Vayl said. “I am vampire.”
I did a half turn so I could monitor Dave’s people. They hadn’t moved yet, but they sure looked interested in the conversation. I searched their faces for animosity. Nothing. They’d donned the same mask as Dave. Their eyes were schooled to blankness. But in his, the question I dreaded:
Your fiance was killed by vampires, Jaz. How
could
you?
I could because I knew, just as well as Dave did, that not all vampires were evil. He and I had worked closely with two vamps on our Helsinger crew. I was surprised he didn’t have one in his unit right now. Obviously he’d changed more than I thought since the days of our youth.
