Bitten to Death

I shrugged. “Sure. But I doubt he’s still there. I got the feeling he was hiding from them as much as I was.”

“Perhaps, then, you could follow his scent?”

“I can try.” I wasn’t holding out much hope though. With camouflage like his, I’d be more likely to pick up a physical clue.

As we walked toward the door I realized Dave wasn’t with us. “You’re staying?” I asked over my shoulder.

“Yeah.” That was it. No other explanation. I swallowed the surge of panic that wanted to jump out and start screaming, “Don’t go searching for liquor! You don’t need to get blasted! Help’s on the way!”

I said, “Okay.” I turned to go. And then it hit me. One of those evil thoughts siblings get because, well, that’s what we do. Looking over my shoulder I said, “You know, since you have some free time, maybe you could . . . never mind.”

“What?”

“Well, it’s just that, all those extra calories you’ve been drink—I mean—not burning off have kind of settled on your gut. I didn’t want to mention anything,” I said as Dave’s hand stole to his midsection. “But the general pointed out that you’d lost a few steps training-wise.” I laughed and waved my hand. “I’m sure it’s nothing switching to light beer won’t cure.”

“I am sure Jasmine is right,” Vayl said from behind me. “Cassandra told me once she likes her men pudgy. Something about more to love?”

We left Dave trying to pinch an inch off his battle-hardened frame. As soon as we were out of earshot I said, “So, do you want to give me odds?”

“On which side are you betting?” asked Vayl.

“I’m putting two bucks on the Special Ops commander to do push-ups and squat thrusts the whole time we’re gone.”

Vayl’s lips quirked. “You are a devious woman.”

“Whatever it takes.”

I led Vayl to the closet, which, as I’d expected, was empty. He crouched by the open door. “Blas was just sitting here when you walked in?”

“Yeah. But I’m not sure he came through the same door. There’s another opening.” I showed him the one I’d found during my claustrophobic search. It looked crude, the sides curvy, the edges uneven. Definitely not a planned part of the architecture.

“So did he exit by it?” Vayl asked.

I spent some time in the doorway before crawling into the closet, closing my eyes to better focus my extra sense. “Yeah, I think so.”

Vayl dropped to his knees beside me. “Then let us go after him.”

Vayl’s shoulders would fit comfortably on a linebacker. Or a Brahma bull. No way could we share that space without rubbing up against each other in ways that felt uncomfortably intimate. Suddenly the closet shrank like tight jeans in a hot wash.

I leaned back, trying to get some air, but it didn’t help. It just gave me a better view of his broad back tapering down to a lovely, firm—I cleared my throat. “Is it hot in here? Are you hot? I think their heating system is definitely on the fritz.”

Vayl smirked at me. “I will go first, shall I?” He reached forward, pushed the door until it came free and fell into the next room, giving him the space he needed to crawl through the opening it left. While I, well, all I really did was ogle until his legs were through. I only snapped out of it when he said, “Jasmine, get in here,” with a sense of urgency that forced me to roll up my tongue and scramble after him.

Vayl had flipped the light switch, activating the wall sconces, but still my feeling was of emerging into a cavern that smelled of must and cobwebs. Since I was trained to find exits upon entering a new area, that’s where my eyes traveled. But no traditional doors or windows broke the lines of plastered walls that had cracked and yellowed with age and dirt.

A layer of gray dust shaded the dark blue carpet, which showed footprints that meandered around the stone sarcophagus that dominated the room. Okay, so this was where Blas slept during the day. I could tell by the scent he’d left, even though it was so faint it read like he hadn’t snoozed there in weeks. I turned to ask Vayl what had concerned him when he put one finger to his lips and pointed to the back of the room.

I squeezed my eyes shut. Rarely did I have to activate the contact lenses Bergman had made me anymore, since my Sensitivity had honed itself to the point where I could almost see in the dark. But still, they gave me that extra little oomph I sometimes needed to make out—What the hell is that!

My mind flipped through its normal files first. Scarecrow? Suit of armor with its arms outstretched?

Think again, Jaz.

Don’t wanna.

Go ahead. Step closer. Take a hard look. Yep, that’s it. I obeyed the voice in my head because it was the one that spoke to me when I pulled the trigger. Something soothing about the clipped rhythm, that icy tone. No fear in a voice that spent so much time straddling the grave.

I shivered. I wasn’t sure what scared me more—myself, or the moment. “It’s a body,” I whispered.

“I think it has been hung from the ceiling. Like a marionette. Look at all the wires,” Vayl replied, his voice as muted as my own.

I pulled Grief, pressing the magic button as I felt Vayl raise his powers. We approached the body from either