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

He made a frustrated, that's-exactly-what-you've-done gesture. 'How are you planning to rejoin your body, that is, if it is not blown to bits during the course of events?'

'I thought I'd try just jumping in.'

'Are you insane?!' Now that Vayl had a living—sort of—target for his anger he had no problem starting the van. And now that he'd asked me the one question I'd feared most, I found I was too mad to care.

'You know what? I probably am! I did walk straight into a trap so obvious even a wooly mammoth could've avoided it. Because that's my job. Yes, it is insane to leave the biggest part of me sitting on an explosive device. But, according to my job description, I'm supposed to save innocents, not endanger them. Yes, it's crazy to stick around waiting for a plague beast to eat my soul. You'd think one death would be my limit. But apparently I just can't get enough of it! So can we just agree I'm bonkers and move on already?'

Vayl jerked his head, his version of a nod, and said, 'So where is Cole?'

'Two blocks west of here, last I saw him.'

'You… saw him. You went to him first?'

'His nose is broken,' I said, as if I needed an excuse. 'And, you know what, I don't need an excuse. I might be a couple of hundred years younger than you, but I'm still an adult! If I want to show concern for a friend, I will do exactly that!' I nearly stomped my foot, but that seemed a little too junior high to ram home my point.

Vayl steered the van back onto the street as he began to mutter again. I didn't catch it all, but I thought I heard him say, 'That won't be all that is broken.'

Dammit! If there is any way to screw up a relationship, I will find it. I pictured Cupid sitting in a crappy little bar, drunk and depressed, while he moaned to the bartender, 'That Jasmine Parks, gods she pisses me off! Did you see what she just did? Totally blew off this immortal stud who's nuts for her to play kiss-the-boo-boo with a fickle little rent-a-cop. Why? 'Cause she's the biggest chicken- shlit on the planet! I'm ready to toss my bow and pick up a bazooka!'

'Vayl?'

'What!'

'I love you.'

I knew he was going to ask for a repeat before he even opened his mouth, as if it wasn't hard enough to say the first time. That's what convinced me it was the real deal. I wouldn't go through this for anyone else on earth.

'What?' he whispered, looking suddenly young and vulnerable.

'I love you, Vayl. There's Cole, see? Can we stop and get him before he keels over?'

'Only if you love me.'

We smiled at each other. 'I do,' I said. 'Sorry about the crappy timing. This sort of thing should be sealed with a kiss. Or… something.'

'I suppose we will have to save that for the plane ride back.'

Oh my.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, I thought as I floated into Bergman's house, leaving Vayl and Cole to pass the doorknocker's muster. From the looks of things, we shouldn't have left the cowpokes to their own devices for quite so long. With Bergman bristling like an irritated land baron and Cassandra throwing off bad vibes like a cornered gunslinger, it looked like we were about to have a good old-fashioned bar fight. Never mind that the bar had never seen a shot of whiskey in its whole upper-middle class life, Cassandra looked like she wanted to drag Bergman down the length of it, scattering test tubes, chemicals and bags of contaminated blood all along the way.

I moved over to her, hoping to overhear her low-pitched mutterings. 'Lousy, neurotic, egotistical, bigoted, neurotic bastard!' She threw a sidelong glance at Bergman as she sat down at the dining room table, unaware she'd called him 'neurotic' twice, and that I agreed with her 98%. The bigoted part I'd never witnessed, but I was willing to kick his ass once I got my legs back if that part proved true. Then I realized she wasn't referring to skin tone at all. 'Thinks magic's for fanatics, skanks and lesbians, does he?' she muttered. 'Why, I'd like to…' her words trailed off as she narrowed her eyes, envisioning some satisfying form of retribution. Then she looked skyward and growled, 'What is the deal with you? You'd think a thousand years of atonement would serve for one woman. But noooo, you've got to torment me even more by shoving me into a gang full of wiseasses and crackpots!'

A thousand years? I suddenly felt like die-hard stoner. All I could think was, Dude! She's, like, really, really old! Whoa!… Cool!

Then she saw me. Her face puckered, like she'd just bitten into a not-quite-ripe apple and she sat back so fast her chair went up on two legs. While she fought to regain her balance I tried to figure out this latest mystery. David, Vayl and Cassandra could see me. Cole couldn't.

'Hey, Bergman!' I yelled pretty loud, because the part of him that wasn't deeply pissed was focused on conducting his experiments.

Nothing.

Cassandra gasped, 'Jasmine?' and he looked up, his face so creased with annoyance he looked ten years older.

'What did you say?' he snapped.

With all four feet of her chair squarely back on the floor, she twisted in her seat, her frown matching his. 'Don't you see her?'

'I would if she was here.' His tone suggested that maybe Cassandra had fallen right off the deep end.

'Someday someone is going to pinch off your tiny little head,' she told him. He had a comeback ready, and for a