Bitten to Death

“But if I walked in the Trust once more, you would tell me . . .”

Marcon stared at him miserably, then shook his head. “You should never have left.”

“I was little more than a killer when I was here.”

“Yes, but you were ours.”

Vayl shrugged. “Now I am the CIA’s. And”—his eyes strayed to mine—“I am more.”

Marcon’s sigh could almost have been a sob. “What shall I tell the Vitem?”

Vayl tied off the last stitch and cut the thread with the scissors Dave handed him. “I will tell them myself.”

“Do you want me to come?” I asked.

“Not this time,” he said. Before I could argue, he was crouched in front of me, his fingertips warm on my face.

“I should be there to guard your back,” I whispered as his eyes lightened to the green I equated with long, breathless kisses.

“That is David’s job,” he said.

But he’s injured! Plus, the danger around us is so electric it’s practically sparking. If we’re separated here, where everyone’s against us, will we ever come back together?

Small nod of Vayl’s head. “Perhaps you could bring our bags in and get us settled. I believe that vehicle you wanted to take off-road is now parked in the garage. At least”—he lifted an eyebrow—“I am fairly sure Tarasios said that is what he did with it.”

It took me longer than it should have to get his drift. First I had to get past the I’m-not-your- goddamn-maid! reaction before I could decipher his real message. Tarasios had pulled all their cars out of the garage. Ours wasn’t even on Trust property. Which meant Vayl was giving me an excuse to go outside. Why?

Because Disa would never allow those Weres to live.

They were too hard to kill in their present form, so she’d probably just wait until they turned and then have one of her lackeys do them from a distance. It would be bad news for the Trust if the wolf got back to his pack and told his story. And the bear—well, he’d have his own loose-knit league who’d be enraged at his tale. Wars had started over less.

My job wasn’t to prevent the conflict. That problem was for people higher up the political chain than me. I only had to save a couple of lives. For once. Which meant . . . one more round with the injured, pissed-off Weres. Thanks a lot, boss.

But I smiled inside. I so liked this part of him. Even a lot of humans I knew wouldn’t have given a second thought to the welfare of those wounded moon-changers. But he’d made it part of our mission to ensure their survival.

“Will you be okay?” I asked Dave, knowing the question would piss him off. As expected, he launched out of his chair and grabbed his crossbow. “Aw, for chrissake, it’s just a scratch! I’ll be fine!”

I smirked. It had been a mean move. But I was sick of seeing him mope. Better to have him hurt and yelling than feeling crappy and keeping mum.

As Dave went to the bathroom to wash up, Vayl took me aside. “When I return, we need to talk.”

Though he kept his voice low, I was sure Marcon could overhear us. So it seemed strange that he’d even bring up a private conversation for the Trust vamp to get curious about. “Yeah?” I said.

“I did not realize Disa was alive, much less living here still. Otherwise I would have told you of our history much sooner.”

“Ah.” Suddenly that word, “history,” meant so much more than boring stories involving stuffy wig-wearing lawyer types.

“I am sure it is nothing to be concerned about, now that I have you, my avhar.” Vayl’s eyes searched my face, almost like he was memorizing it.

But I couldn’t stifle the creeping sense of dread I felt as we went our separate ways. Marcon gave me directions that I didn’t need and led the guys away. I kept looking over my shoulder until they were out of sight. And then, realizing a divided focus could be the death of me, I shoved my concern to one corner of my mind and put all my effort into the job at hand.

I went back out to the courtyard. But I didn’t try the vine-framed door; despite the villa’s covered windows, I still suspected someone might see me from the inside. Instead I left through the open gate. Rather than hiking up the hill to where our SUV was parked, I followed the wall that circled the villa to the back. It stopped at the garage, which hadn’t even existed in Vayl’s time. When he’d drawn the layout of the place for us to memorize, he’d left it out completely, instead penciling in a one-room stone building he called the Gardener’s Hut. He’d told us in his time it had been used as a sort of halfway house for newly recruited vampires.

“You had to keep them at such a distance?” Dave had asked incredulously. “What, were you afraid they were going to rise a half hour before everybody else, steal all the silver, and run off with the kitchen help?”

Vayl’s chuckle, which usually sounded more like a guy choking on his porterhouse, flew round and full from his upturned lips. “You keep forgetting what a suspicious old wretch Hamon Eryx is. While he knows the Trust must grow if it is to survive, he still believes every other Trust is trying to infiltrate him and learn all his secrets, thereby stealing everything he has worked so hard to build.”

“So why doesn’t he just turn people?” Dave asked. When I gaped at him, he raised his hands. “Not that I’m advocating the practice. God knows—” He shook his head at me. “No, I’d never be okay with that, Jaz.”

My heart, which had twisted painfully at his question, relaxed. His wife had been turned before showing up at my back door, begging entry, planning violence. I’d ended Jessie’s undeath, because I’d made her that promise long before either of us dreamed our fates could actually unwind that way. I nodded at Dave, grateful his forgiveness still