should've used brand-name glue.
Vayl pulled me into the shadows between the house and a wrought iron dining set. For a minute I thought he'd snapped and I was going to find out first-hand how much it really hurt to be vampire-bitten. 'I can smell your desperation too,' he whispered. 'It is like burnt metal on my tongue. But above all I sense determination. Courage. The instincts of a predator and the skill of a master. It is a confusing combination, Jasmine. Can I trust it?'
'I wouldn't be here otherwise,' I hissed. 'Pete made it clear, and I agreed. My life for yours. If that's how it goes down, that's how I go. No questions asked. I know your value.'
I glared at Vayl, mostly to give the tears that threatened a big, fat nuh-uh. He responded with his most inscrutable look. I thought of Cole's sparkling eyes and love-me smile and wondered how many times a man would have to smother his own feelings to get to the expression on Vayl's face. 'I am not talking about my life,' he said.
Okay, now my brain was going to melt. What the hell else could he possibly trust me with?
We heard a bell ring and noticed people begin moving into the dining room. Though I felt like I'd been shoved off a train in Siberia during a blizzard, Vayl's short nod signified he'd made up his mind. 'Will you join me?' I knew he wasn't just talking about supper.
I wanted to say
Chapter Three
I'll say this for me, even when my insides are twisting like a contortionist in the Cirque du Soleil, I do know how to focus. By the time we reached our seats Lucille Robinson had taken charge. She took real pleasure in her surroundings, enjoying the granite-topped table, the gold-rimmed plates, the enormous vases (pronounced vah-zes, my dear) bursting with pink and white tulips. My neighbor told me the nurseryman got them to bloom so early by faking them out, making them think they'd spent an entire winter underground when in fact they'd only spent about six weeks in the cooler. The word for the process, she said, was 'forced.' Those beautiful forced flowers reminded me of Amanda Assan as I watched her negotiate her way through the meal.
She ate $5,000 worth of French onion soup, Caesar salad, chicken parmesan and coconut cream pie, all the time making pleasant conversation with my tablemates who, after a word with Vayl, would never remember me in the morning. Not long ago she'd been crying on an old friend's shoulder. Now she wore a catalog-model smile.
When the white-aproned servers cleared the last dessert plate, Assan suggested we all move into the ballroom. Vayl put an arm around my shoulder and murmured, 'I saw the room when I was looking around earlier. This is where you get to guess what is behind Door Number Four.' A new Jaguar:
'No. But probably just as pricey.'
We moved out of the dining room, across the hall and to a pair of custom doors decorated with intricate scrollwork and generous amounts of gold leaf. Two muscle-bound doormen let us into a room that made the guests gasp. The ceiling set the theme for the entire space. Half-dressed nymphs danced across fields of flowers while studly young princelings looked on from beds made of silvery white clouds. I suspected the artist to be a direct descendent of Michelangelo.
The burnished gold walls sported enough detailed trim to keep an army of plasterers busy for six months. The wood floor was so dark it was almost black. Two long tables set with punch bowls and crystal glasses sat along one wall underneath oversized windows dressed in black velvet. Another wall backed a miniature orchestra, its members dressed to match the curtains. As soon as the door opened they began to play, and the song lasted until all the guests had entered. Amidst applause for the musicians, Assan stepped up to a microphone.
'Notice the dark-haired man in the shadows just to Assan's left,' Vayl whispered.
'Wasn't he hovering near Assan when we met?'
'Yes. I think that one is his personal bodyguard. You will have to deal with him when the time comes.' I smiled and nodded as if Vayl had just complimented the band.
'Thank you all for coming,' said Assan, his voice echoing weirdly in the enormous room. 'You are the reason so many young children have been given a second chance at life.' He went on but I stopped listening, so steamed by his b.s. I'd begun to consider how I would kill him if Vayl gave me the chance. But those daydreams ended abruptly as my nose twitched and my scalp began to tingle.
'Jeremy?'
'Hmm?'
I tugged on his sleeve so he'd lean down, bringing his ear within an inch of my lips. 'There's another vampire in the room.' It seemed weird to be the one, of the two of us, who could sense this. But vamps are completely closed to one another. I would imagine it makes for horrible relationships.
'Find him.'
I focused on the scent, a rotten potato kind of odor that made my head ache. When the man slithered his way to the front of the crowd I knew it was him. He wore his nutmeg colored hair long, past his shoulders. His eyes, a striking light blue as cold as the arctic, kept him from looking girlish. His blue, pin-striped suit fit so well at least half the guests would be asking him for the name of his tailor before the evening ended. But it didn't look as if he meant to stay. He caught Assan's eye, signaled him with a slight nod, and suddenly our host couldn't get away from the microphone fast enough.
'Excuse me,' he said, 'I am afraid that duty calls. Please enjoy the rest of your evening knowing that, even tonight, your generous donations have helped to make an unfortunate child whole again.'
I caught myself short of a full-blown snort. I murmured, 'If he's going to put some poor kid's face back on straight I'll do the hula.'
