My brother’s mouth fell far enough open that I had to stifle an urge to wad up the nearest napkin and try my rim shot off his upper lip. “You’re shitting me!”
“Nope. He has a purple helmet to match the gas tank, which glitters in the sunlight like Mom’s old bowling ball — I’m quoting him here. Also he bought a full set of leathers. I think Shelby —that’s his new nurse,” I reminded him, “has to spray him with Pam before he slides into them.”
“How does he start it?”
“Push of the button. No kicking necessary.” His knees weren’t what they used to be.
Dave shook his head in horrified disbelief as he rubbed the back of his neck, maybe imagining our dad breaking his. “What the hell was he thinking?”
I shrugged. “He just became a grandfather. I guess he’s trying to pretend he’s not an old man despite all evidence to the contrary.”
“You guys are making me squirm,” objected Jet. “Colonel Parks is practically a god in my house. If my dad knew you two were talking about him like this he’d beat the shit out of
me
!”
Dave nodded toward my shooting buddy. “I guess Albert saved his dad’s life a couple of times. You know how it is.” I did. Jet’s dad had probably spent more time with mine than
I
had. Even now, all grown up and taking care of myself, I couldn’t help the spear of jealousy that skewered me when I thought of their relationship. They’d never struggle to understand one another. Never question each other’s motives. Their bond was unbreakable. Sometimes I wasn’t even sure Albert and I had one.
I shoved my hands into my pockets. My left forefinger brushed against the memento I always kept there. The engagement ring Matt had given me two weeks before he died had only lately begun to remind me of a relationship that hadn’t made me want to pull my hair out by the roots. And that only because I’d finally accepted that now, sixteen months after his death, maybe Matt wanted me to be happy. Too bad my closest male relatives didn’t always feel the same.
“Jaz? Are you sure you’re okay?” Dave asked again.
“Yes.”
Shut the hell up and leave me alone
.
He reached forward, pulled my hijab down, snagged one of the long curls that framed the right side of my face. Usually they’re a vibrant red. I’d dyed them black for this mission. Except . . . “Did you have an accident recently?” he pressed.
“Why do you ask?”
He pulled the twirls of hair straight and stretched them across my vision. My lips went dry. “What,” he demanded, “has turned your hair white?”
The first thing I did was grab another hunk of hair and yank it forward. Whew! It was still black. Only that bit beside my face had turned. The relief was so intense I laughed. Not so my crew.
During the moments of babbling, confusion, and near panic that followed I had to remind myself that I hadn’t just been in a near-fatal car accident. Nobody had shot or stabbed me. We were just talking about some hair tintage here, folks. But you’d never have known that by the frenzy my crew fell into. And damned if they weren’t getting me wound up all over gain.
“Ohmigod, somebody’s gotten to her!” yelled Bergman, clenching his bony fists like somebody was about to take a swing at him. “She’s probably caught some vile disease!” He hadn’t forgotten the close call we’d had with a virus called the Red Plague that had been designed to wipe out ninety percent of those who were exposed to it. He scuttled to the farthest corner of the room despite the fact that it put him next to the woman who’d covered the windows — a six-foot-one-inch amazon with the face of a beauty queen.
At the same moment Cassandra leaned forward and said urgently, “I can help you fight whatever has possessed you.” A courageous offer, I thought, since as soon as she touched me she’d be putting herself at its mercy, too.
“I’m not sick and I’m not possessed,” I said, but my reply was muted by Cole’s exclamation.
“It’s this location, isn’t it? I told you they’ve got all kinds of lethal crap floating in the air over here. Comes from all that nuclear testing and biological warfare and —”
“Enough!” Vayl bellowed. The sudden silence made my ears ring. I thought,
See what happens when you hardly ever raise your voice? You should take a lesson from this, Jaz,
though I knew I wouldn’t. Vayl looked at me. “Are you all right?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have any idea what caused this?” He curled the offending hair around his finger, brushing against my face as he did so. His touch, gentle and yet electrifying, made me hold my breath.
“Yes.”
“Would you like to discuss it?”
I sighed. If I could say it had nothing to do with the mission I’d be off the hook. But it did. In fact, it had a whole helluva lot to do with why four good men were currently sitting on the floor feeling like the poster boys for Johnson & Johnson.
I met Vayl’s eyes. They were the indigo blue that signified deep concern. I twirled Cirilai, the ring he’d given
