affected more than my tear ducts when his hands had cupped my cheeks. Pleased at the white spot I’d cleared with that small effort.
I wiped my face off too, before it could get any hotter. Took a look at the gook my hand had removed.
“A shower. That would make me feel better.” Just knowing I’d entertained a positive thought allowed me to move to the vehicles. No way would I sit my disgusting ass in Asha’s beautiful black sedan. So I got into the TV van, started it up, and drove home.
Chapter Twenty-One
B
eing a girl, I enjoy the dramatic entrance. Having all eyes on me, preferably admiring and male, as I sashay to my table. Or, better yet, to the podium to accept a major award. My hair, makeup, and gown the most perfect combination any woman has ever put together in the history of the world.
But in my line of work, if that happens, I’ve just screwed the pooch. So when I opened the kitchen door, after parking the TV van in the garage and thanking my lucky stars its high ceilings just barely accommodated the satellite dish, I experienced a flash of guilt when every eye in the room turned to me and widened in a united moment of shock. I couldn’t hang on to the feeling though. In fact, no emotion seemed to stick for longer than a few seconds before it fizzled beneath the mahghul tumor that grew inside me, spreading its tentacles into every part of my being.
“Hard night?” asked Cole in a lame attempt at humor.
“You could say that,” I replied, taking stock of my audience. Everybody had bought a ticket. Except Vayl. “Where’s the boss?” I asked Cole.
He hesitated, then shrugged. “In the guys’ room,” he said, “meditating. Apparently you have to achieve nirvana before you can turn a human into a vampire, and he hasn’t quite made the leap.”
Anger flitted through me. Cirilai would’ve warned him of my danger. Normally he’d have come dashing to the rescue. Even if he’d thought I could handle the situation, he’d have hovered nearby. Stood on the sidelines and cheered me on. Nothing on earth would’ve stopped him from backing me up. Until now.
“Jaz.” Dave stepped forward from his spot by the stove, where he’d been talking with Cassandra. “What happened to you?” He reached out and I backed up, my heel banging into woodwork before my shoulders could hit the wall and leave a big red splotch.
“Don’t touch me. I . . . the things that attacked me leave a residue. I don’t want you hurt.”
And I don’t want you to know that I know. Somehow I think if you touch me the Wizard might get a whiff of my suspicions. And that’ll be the end of us all. Oh Jesus, Dave, how am I going to save you?
“Are you infected?” demanded Amazon Grace, jumping off her stool and heading for the living room. She grabbed Jet and Cam, tried to drag them with her, but they didn’t seem interested in budging. “She’s going to give you guys some fatal disease,” Grace warned them. When they still refused to stand up, she snarled something unintelligible, let go of their shirts, and stomped out of the room.
“It’s not something you can get through the air,” I told them. “Probably not even by touching. I think you have to actually kill somebody.”
“Which you obviously did tonight,” said Natchez, his upper lip curling at the sight I made.
“I’ll fill you all in, I promise. Just let me get a shower first, okay? Actually,” — I turned to Cassandra — “what I really need is some holy water.”
Half an hour later, anointed and bathed, realizing I should feel tons better and feeling a fat lot of nothing instead, I headed back toward the kitchen. I passed the guys’ room on the way. Vayl had closed the door, but I could sense him behind it. The anger came again, and before it could leave I grabbed it. Held hard to it, though it tried to wriggle out of my hands like the slick little eel it had become.
I threw open the door and strode into the room. “Where the hell were you?” I demanded.
He sat on a beautifully crafted blue and white rug within a circle of stones, his hands resting in his lap. His expression, serene as a Buddhist monk’s, didn’t change when I barged in. But his eyes, already a troubled oceanic blue, darkened to purple. Any other time I might’ve taken a second to wonder why Vayl, sitting alone, preparing for an event meant to lead to the fulfillment of a centuries’ long quest, had reason to be upset about anything. But the clock was ticking on my wave of anger and I had more urgent business to deal with.
“What do you mean?” he asked smoothly. He stood, I think because he didn’t like looking up at me as I glared down at him.
Stay mad
, I told myself. Not an easy order to obey considering my circumstances. And the fact that Vayl had already changed for bed. All he wore was a pair of white silk drawstring pajama bottoms that left very little to the imagination. And mine had kicked into overdrive.
I resolutely kept my eyes on his as I said, “While you were out playing Turn the Seer, four reavers nearly killed me. Not to mention twenty or thirty mahghul. You’re supposed to be my boss. You
said
we were partners.”
“What are mahghul?” Vayl asked, allowing his eyes to wander to the bed, which already held his sleeping tent. He didn’t even seem interested.
“We saw them at the hanging!” I informed him hotly. “They attack killers and their victims. They suck away all your emotions and leave you fucking numb, Vayl. They were on me. You wanna see?” I turned around and lifted my tunic, gave him a good five seconds to survey the damage. When I felt the tips of his fingers brush my back I jerked my shirt down and spun around.
I didn’t want to recognize the expression on his face. In my opinion, you shouldn’t have to see that kind of grief on a person more than once in your life. David had worn that look sixteen months ago when he’d walked into my kitchen just in time to watch me destroy his wife.
“What have you done?” he’d yelled, running to the spot where she’d stood only seconds before, begging for entry. So she could tear my throat out.
