Bitten in Two

Cole said, “He’s changing. Thank God I talked him out of needing assistance with that yesterday! Have a seat.” Bergman and Kyphas moved into the conversation area, which contained a fireplace, a couch, and matching armchairs upholstered in bright green satin. I took the round white ottoman that stood between them, ignoring the couch because, frankly, I needed Bergman’s moral support.

Vayl swung open the bathroom door and strode out, the deep line between his red-rimmed eyes announcing his hunger. He wore a black button-down shirt with purple pin stripes and tailored slacks that kissed the tops of his shiny black boots. Cole handed him his duster and he shrugged it on as if he was chil y. In fact, he’d informed “Berggia” that he felt naked without it.

Bergman leaned next to my ear, since nothing had happened to injure Vayl’s hearing, and whispered, “How happened to injure Vayl’s hearing, and whispered, “How does he pul that off? It’s hot enough for shirtsleeves but I guarantee you nobody wil harass him about his outfit. I’d probably get the crap kicked out of me if I tried to pul that off. But he’s so manly strangers wil probably stop him on the street to ask where they can tour his castle.” I sighed. Vayl’s vibe was working on me, as wel , but in more of an oh-baby-let’s-play-doctor kind of way. Before I could pul myself together, Vayl held out his arms. His smile, while it kept the fang-reveal to a minimum, was so gentle that for a second I thought he’d come back to himself. My heart jumped, making an utter fool of itself, when he fol owed the gesture by saying, “Madame Berggia. You have brought my little Helena to see me. What a fine way to greet the new day!”

“Oh. Yeah, wel , you insisted—” I jerked my thumb at Kyphas so she’d get the lead out and stand up already.

She shot to her feet, but with a ful -faced pout that revealed just how much Cole’s comment had hurt her.

Damn. Maybe she has a heart after all.

Kyphas raised her arms to return his hug, her hands hanging limply as if she’d inherited some zombie traits from her mom’s side of the family. Vayl raked his eyes over her.

“It would help if my walking stick was balanced on those,” he snapped. “But I wil forgive you since you are, in fact, Helena’s maid.” And then he engulfed Bergman in a hug so enthusiastic I was pretty sure I heard some Russian tourists cheering in the streets.

“How are you, my dear?” Vayl asked, patting Bergman on his fluffy head when the hug had ended. “I missed you. I had not realized our travels tired you so greatly. Here, let us be seated while you tel me everything.”

“Uh.” Bergman shot a look of pure panic over his shoulder as Vayl took him by the hand and began to lead him toward the couch. I’m not a girl! he mouthed.

Suck it up. I’m not a fat Italian housekeeper either! I mouthed right back.

Cole was making a hel uva racket taking down Vayl’s bed tent. Normal y it col apsed very quietly. Then I realized he was punctuating the folding of the poles with swal owed snorts of laughter.

Which made me smile. When I thought about it, I could see how it was kind of—

“It’s not funny, Berggia!” Bergman said.

“That’s me!” Cole hooted. “I’m Berggia. And you’re Helena!” He pointed at Kyphas. “And you are a maid. How do you like that, Ky—”

Vayl interrupted. “I assume you al have better things to do than stand around exchanging names? Madame Berggia, that ensemble you are wearing is completely inappropriate for a woman of your age and girth. And you have, once again, worn your hair down around your shoulders like a common strumpet. Must we have this conversation twice, or shal I just sack you and leave you in Morocco without a means of transportation back to England?”

I reached for the lamp on the table but Kyphas intercepted my hand. “You’l regret it later,” she murmured.

“What do you know about regret?” I snapped.

“More than you can imagine.” I caught her glancing toward Cole, but was too busy glaring at Vayl to give it much thought. Natural y, he remained total y oblivious to me.

Al his attention focused on Bergman, who he thought was the little girl he’d saved from a werewolf attack seven years earlier. Since my newest blood-borne skil seemed to be reliving his past, I’d been in Vayl’s body for a replay of that battle. So I knew he’d risked his life for her. But I thought he’d given her money when it was over and told her to leave. Until the previous day I’d had no idea he’d gone after her and promised to take care of her until she became independent.

1777-Vayl is a coldhearted shit, I thought. Unless your name is Helena.

I toyed with the idea of changing my name to something Vayl would respond to with as much love and kindness as he showed her. But it couldn’t be a tag you’d hang on your favorite great-aunt. Would people want to cal if I answered the phone by saying, “You’ve reached Myrtle!” Then I realized someone was repeating my real name into my ear.

“Jasmine? Yoo-hoo!”

I touched the receiver, waking to the ful crapality of my present life when I saw Vayl walking ahead of me, stil smoking that stinking cigar.

“Jaz! What are you waiting for?” Bergman demanded.

“Find out why Vayl’s so worried about Helena. Maybe you can convince him to lock her in her room for her own safety.”

“Bad idea,” I replied.

“Come on! I’ve been so busy playing Vayl’s favorite teenager I haven’t had time to set up the security system properly. And don’t tel me to relax because the riad’s already got an alarm. You know it’s outdated,” Bergman snapped. Meaning he hadn’t invented it.

Vayl, responding to my comment as wel , said, “I know you hate my cigars, Madame Berggia, but they help me think. And you did ask about Helena.”