Jennifer Rardin - [Jaz Parks 1] - Once Bitten, Twice Shy

Maybe I could've given him the party line and he'd have bought it. I might've convinced him with the arguments that had swayed Vayl. But people rarely ask me for the truth, and when they do I feel compelled to give it to them.

'Part of me just wanted to know what it was like,' I told him. 'Part of me wanted to feel that vital, to know that without me, Vayl would have lost more than his life. He'd have lost that navigational beacon that lands him on our side of the wall. Because there's nothing more demonic than a starving vamp. And part of me…' whoa, this is going to be embarrassing, '… just wanted to be close, to be connected to somebody else. Like I said, it's been awhile.'

Cole grinned and brought my hands up to his lips. 'Then maybe I have a chance after all.'

I rolled my eyes. 'Do you ever stop?'

He appeared to think about the question. 'Not often.' His grin said I'm wicked fun. 'Women are passion, my weakness, and my joy. And you,' he kissed my hands again, 'are a paragon among them.'

'You make me sound like some blue-haired preacher's wife.'

His grin twisted, 'God forbid.'

I took my hands back, settling Cirilai down on my finger from where it had twisted up to my knuckle. 'I did my bit. Now tell me why you're working for Amanda Assan.'

I thought he'd stall, maybe rearrange the salt and pepper shakers or file the sweeteners by color, but he came right out with it. 'I am a P.I. But my specialty is supernatural crime. Amanda's brother, Michael, died six months ago in India. He was traveling with Assan at the time. She thinks he might've had something to do with it.'

'Just because he was there at the time, or…?'

'It was a combination of things. Assan didn't show much remorse for her brother or sympathy for her. Plus the circumstances of his death were odd, and Assan's explanation came out sounding pretty lame.'

'In what way?'

'Michael died of a single stab wound to the heart. The weapon, according to the coroner, was an ancient sword of unknown origin. Assan collects swords. Also, symbols were found burned into the skin around Michael's wound.'

'What kind?'

'Magical, as far as I can decipher. But I'm no expert and my sources haven't been able to translate them. I'd draw them for you, but—oh,' he caught our waitress's eye and signaled her over. She found him a pen and some paper and left us after we reassured her we didn't need any refills.

While he drew the symbols for me Cole said, 'Assan was in India to give a presentation at a conference on reconstructive surgery. He said Michael, who'd also been a plastic surgeon, had wandered off during one of the meetings, and when he still hadn't returned the next morning, Assan reported him missing.'

'He waited awhile, didn't he?'

'Yep. And the meeting Michael left was one he'd discussed with Amanda. He'd told her it would make the whole trip worthwhile.'

Yeah, the whole deal sounded about as fishy as a tuna factory. The symbols branded into Michael's skin threw me, though. Unless they'd had a radical change of philosophy, the Sons of Paradise despised all forms of magic. And these sure looked like spell glyphs to me. I guess it made their alliance with a vampire a little easier to swallow. But still…

Cole went on. 'The icing is that some poor schmuck who thought he needed an early morning jog found a torso on the beach last week. Sharks had swallowed a lot of the evidence, but according to a friend of mine who works homicide, the victim had been murdered. By a single stab wound to the heart. And around that wound—'

'Glyphs,' I finished. He nodded. 'The same as these?'

'Yep.'

'Wonder what Vayl will think of these.' I ignored Cole's frown as I studied his drawings. Then it struck me that Vayl had been gone much longer than even an arranged absence should take. 'Where is Vayl?' I asked, peering through the atmospheric gloom. Suddenly the hair on the back of my neck stood up in response to the ripple of power that rolled across the room.

'Did you feel that?' I asked Cole. He nodded, looking grave and a little shaken. I slid out of the booth. I think I said, 'Excuse me,' but I'm not sure. The power called me with an urgency I'd never experienced before. It came from the other side of the restaurant so that's where I headed, followed closely by Cole.

'Vayl?' I whispered, 'where are you?'

I smelled it before I felt it, a revolting combination of rotten eggs and ash that lashed my inner senses like a lion tamer's whip. The magic snapped past me, leaving me mentally singed, as if I'd stood too close to a burning soul. At least I knew now Vayl wasn't its source. His power had never made me want to shower in bleach water. This came from an altogether different sort of vampire.

I turned, searching for the vamp's target. I found him almost immediately, a spectacled, balding man in his mid-thirties with the soft face and hands of someone who hires out his yard work. He sat at a table with three other people, presumably his wife and sons. They stared at him in speechless shock as he clawed at his throat, his face turning a shade of red I'd never seen before tonight.

'Charlie? What's wrong?' The woman half-rose from her chair, but Charlie was way ahead of her. He jerked to his feet, toppling his chair backwards in the process. Now the other patrons had stopped talking, had turned to look.

'I think he's choking!' screeched an elderly woman whose ebony cane might've been related to Vayl's. I expected Charlie to nod, but his hands had moved to his chest, pressed flat against it as if to keep his innards from revolting and becoming his outards.