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

put until the dealer came for it at the end of the week. We didn't exactly tear out of the parking lot, but we wasted no time in hitting the road. Bergman drove while Vayl and I sat in the bucket seats behind him, our legs pinned between boxes and trunks. Naturally, since I wasn't driving, traffic cooperated.

'I am sorry,' Vayl said, his voice low in my ear, 'I know you cherish your privacy, but your emotions are shooting out of you like fireworks. You have every right to be scared and worried, but you cannot let those feelings take you over. Not tonight.'

A spurt of anger made me want to slap him, as if I was some diva who didn't get the Double Stuff Oreos she'd demanded before her concert. I took a deep breath, and then another. 'Okay, reign it in. I understand. I will.'

Cassandra waited for us on the curb in front of her store, two bags in hand, two on the sidewalk beside her. Even after everything I'd seen and done in my life, the Midwesterner in me thought, Wow, that's just weird. But weird in a way I deeply appreciated.

Bergman helped her load her stuff, giving Vayl and I each a bag to hold on our laps. She kept the other two, tucking one beneath her feet and keeping the other in-hand.

'No speeding,' I told Bergman as he settled back behind the wheel. 'You hit a bump going over 60 and your exhaust system is going to snap off like a Lego.'

'I know, I know, I packed too much. I always do.'

He sounded so contrite I backed off. 'You wouldn't have brought it if you didn't need it.'

'That's why I like you, Jaz. You never sneer at my craziness.'

'If you could watch a film of my childhood you'd know why.'

He chuckled, the way a person will who's had similar suspicions about insanity in the family. 'Where to now?'

I looked at Vayl. 'Bergman's offered us asylum. We get to stay on his turf as long as we make our beds and put our dirty plates in the dishwasher.'

'Excellent. Take us there, if you please.' Vayl looked at Cassandra then. 'It is good to see you again.'

'Likewise.' She looked at me and smiled. 'Hello Lucille. Or should I call you Jaz?'

'Why don't we stick with Lucille? The less you know about me the better.'

'But that is why I'm here.'

'Really?'

She held my gaze, her eyes like twin wells in the dim light. I nearly kicked in my night sight, but I wasn't sure I wanted to see her that clearly. 'When we shook hands, the vision of David came strongest,' she told me. 'But another vision crept in, like a shadow, and I could not understand what it meant. So after you left I consulted the Enkyklios.'

Vayl nodded as if he knew what that meant, which irritated me. Or maybe it was the fact that Cassandra felt free to nose around my psyche.

'What's an Enkyklios?' I asked, the suspicion in my voice causing Bergman to flash me a look of approval.

Cassandra slipped into lecture mode. 'An Enkyklios is like a metaphysical library. It is full of the information Seers have whispered to their descendents practically since the beginning of time. For the last several generations we have taken it upon ourselves to travel the world, gathering and storing that information so it won't be lost forever.'

'We?' asked Bergman. 'Who's we?'

'An international guild I belong to called Sisters of the Second Sight.'

'Never heard of it.' He sounded as snappish and impatient as I felt.

'No,' Cassandra smiled sweetly, 'you wouldn't have.'

I cut to the chase before Bergman came up with a conspiracy theory even Julia Roberts wouldn't buy. 'So what did you find in the library?'

She looked down, hiding her eyes from me. Uh-oh. 'I think you need to see it for yourself when we get to a safe place.'

I sat back in my seat and sighed. Then I felt Vayl's cool hand wrap around my own.

'What are you afraid of?' he murmured, quiet in my ear so no one could overhear.

I whispered right back. 'She's going to tell me my dad's a demon and my mom was a harpy. She's going to uncover the fact that I'm a monster. I don't guess I'll be surprised to hear it. I've always known at some level. After all, it takes a certain kind of someone to be capable of assassination. You just hate to have your worst traits confirmed by a panel of independent judges, you know?'

I felt Vayl shrug. 'I think your perspective is tainted. But if you insist on looking at it that way, is it so bad to be our kind of monster? Look at the evil we have averted in our time together.' He squeezed my hand. 'As long as you do not corrupt any monks or paint eyelashes on the Venus de Milo, I would say you have nothing to worry about.'

Nothing to worry about. Nothing… nothing… nothing.

Chapter Nineteen

Bergman pulled into the circle drive in front of his hideaway as Vayl and I gaped at the view out the van's front window. Tastefully lit by low wattage lamps and a couple of well placed spots, the beachfront two-story looked like it would've been just as comfortable on Cape Cod. The landscaping, the wraparound porch, the white wicker furniture for cripe's sake, it might've come from the latest issue of Better Homes & Gardens.

'This is your safe house?' I asked Bergman.