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

Liliana like they were long lost pals. I started to go for my car, realized it was gone. Vayl had carried Derek Steele off to the hospital in it, leaving me temporarily stranded.

'Derek Steel.' I snorted. 'Sounds like the hero in a really raunchy Harlequin novel.' Only none of those heroes ever found themselves donating blood in dark alleyways. As if opening a vein in the comfort of your putrid pink hotel room makes you better somehow.

'No, I'm no hero.' A couple of die-hard fun-seekers gave me a strange look as they passed by. Great. Now I'm standing out in a crowd. Man, am I slipping.

It did feel that way, like all the layers I'd managed to stitch together to form my so-called life had shifted. Now nothing seemed to line up. I suddenly felt ancient, a tired old antique rusting on the sidewalk along with the metal trash cans. My knees quivered with the effort it took to hold myself up. Drained, as if a bad flu had grabbed me and shaken me till my brain rattled, I decided to find a better place to collapse than on the corner of Washington Avenue. I hailed a cab and slid in, giving the driver, who looked like he'd just gotten off el raft-o Cubano, directions to one of our backup hidey holes. I called Vayl on my cell phone.

'Jasmine?' He answered on the first ring. Only people who care answer on the first ring. The thought made me tear up. Which made me want to slap myself. What had happened to the thick-skinned agent who yelled at old ladies and stonewalled handsome young admirers?

'Jeremy, I'm beat.' My bruised ribs and cut lip began to ache, as if even I needed proof before I could give myself a break. 'I'm going to crash at the condo until you're finished with your business. Can you pick me up there?'

'Certainly.'

'Is everything… okay?'

'Fine,' meaning he'd handled his vamp easily. Good. 'We are just pulling up to the Emergency Room. I will probably see you in an hour.'

'Sounds good. Drive safe.'

He sighed, knowing I really meant, 'Take care of my Mercedes.'

We hung up and I spent the rest of the drive wondering exactly what kind of world had just opened up to me. It was as if my senses, two of them at least, had undergone a major upgrade. I could see a whole new spectrum of light. And I could sense great imbalances in human health. Now if I could only hear through brick walls I'd make a great sideshow for Barnum & Bailey.

The cab dropped me at the Star One Resort, a multi-level apartment building right on the beach. Most of the apartments were time-shares. So if I ran into anybody in the commons or the elevator, they wouldn't raise an eyebrow at the presence of a stranger.

The lock on the door looked intimidating. A metal-faced number pad with a digital readout prevented easy access, unless you had the right fingerprint. I did. I pressed my thumb on the small sensor pad next to the latch. The tumblers tumbled and I stumbled in, swinging the door shut behind me.

The room looked much better than the Bubblegum Bordello. The walls had been painted off-white. Evie would've called it something romantic like Ivory Lace. The chocolate brown furniture felt like velvet and the dark gold carpet complimented the gold fleur-de-lis in the red wine curtains. I opened them and saw a small balcony overlooking the ocean. Nice view if you had the time to enjoy it.

I shucked my shoes and plopped onto the couch, promising myself to try out the matching chair and ottoman before I left. And maybe, yeah, maybe if dawn caught us here I'd explore garden too. It was on the roof and easily accessed from the bedroom by means of a stairway that hid behind the closet door. That extra escape route was what had sold us on the place.

Never mind waiting till dawn. I'll just rest here for a minute, then I'll check out the garden. I closed my eyes, breathing deeply the smells of recycled air (just the right temperature) and apple-cinnamon plug-ins.

I admit it. I blew it. I should've stayed awake, done some brain-storming, solved the mystery and gotten myself a Scooby Snack. Instead my sleep-deprived bod yelled, 'Break time!' and all systems hit Pause.

I dream vividly every time I sleep. Even my power naps remind me of Super Bowl commercials. This time I dreamed of Granny May, not as I remembered her, wearing faded jeans and bulky sweaters that made her extra huggable. But as I imagined her, winged and haloed, living it up with a distinguished old saint who also dug popcorn and Frank Sinatra movies.

We talked like a couple of beauticians, and she said a lot of things I couldn't recall later on, though I knew they were important. I do remember a feeling of deep, resounding contentment, the kind you mostly lose after the age of six. Then her face took on a look I recognized, but not from her. Suddenly she resembled my mom when I was about to hear the words, 'Grounded for life!' The contentment fled and I began to feel a familiar prickling sensation in my fingers and toes.

'It's not your time,' Granny May snapped, 'wake up!'

I opened my eyes. I stood. I damn near saluted. I guess it's true that old habits die hard. So do old field agents. As soon as I recognized my magical alarm had not been dreamed I spun to face the source of the power that had tripped it.

The balcony doors flew open and I could actually see the glass shivering as the doorframe hit the wall. In walked Vayl's former wife.

'You sure know how to make an entrance,' I said. I sounded calm, amused. It was a total scam, and the scowl on Liliana's face told me she'd bought it. Good. It might give me a couple of extra steps when I turned to run. Okay, if I turned to run. I hadn't made up my mind on that yet.

'So do you. I think everyone at Club Undead saw you stumble through that doorway. Are you still drunk?'

'Probably.' Shit! I was like the Texas Hold'em pro all the amateurs enjoy beating. My tells were obvious enough to be noted, to attract a shadow, most likely Scarface. Is it time for a vacation?

I think Liliana badly wanted to call me a candy-ass, but just didn't have the phrase at the tip of her tongue. So she went straight to the point.