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

Assan snorted and let go of my arm. 'Hardly.'

Aidyn ran both hands through his hair. 'Stick to the plan, people! You two,' he jabbed two fingers at Motor Oil and his smaller, greasier pal, 'back to the exits. Liliana, Derek,' he addressed a vent in the wall which apparently hid a camera, 'you should have been downstairs with the Senator twenty minutes ago. Now, move!'

The goons scurried to obey as, I imagined, did Liliana and Derek.

'That goes for you too,' Aidyn told me, his entire demeanor a Kodak moment in badly disguised wariness.

'Sure.' I gave him a Lucille Robinson shrug, knowing that Jaz must be bottled right along with her rage if we were going to pull this off. Knowing also that when the lid came off, payback would be a bitch.

Chapter Twenty-Five

The scene in the monster pit had changed somewhat during my brief absence. I had a better view for one thing. Aidyn and Assan made sure of that. They escorted me straight to the front row while the faithful, with the addition of Bozcowski, Vayl's ex and Derek 'Doomsday' Steele, chanted words in a language I didn't understand, but which my ears heard as, 'Over llama catcha fur.' The Tor-al-Degan swayed to the rhythm of the chant, her eyes half-closed as if in a trance. I should've cared more, but my proximity to Derek had doubled me over, and I was close to adding my own mound of puke to the nasty puddles of glop on the floor.

While I leaned against a column, trying to regroup, Bozcowski turned to face his audience, holding up his hands for silence. 'Today, victory is ours!' he said, baring his shiny fangs as they applauded. 'No longer must we watch our goddess hover between worlds, frustrated and impotent. We have found our willing sacrifice!' He presented me to the clapping crowd, a farmer proudly displaying his prize heifer.

I panicked briefly as they surged toward me, but they stopped short, staying at arm's length, well beyond reach of the Tor-al-Degan's grasp. The noise they made swept over me though, their whoops of joy pounding through my head like an ethanol-powered knitting needle. The monster behind me squealed, her high-pitched response making my eyes water.

Assan strode to the back of the pit, taking three large acolytes with him, while Bozcowski continued with the pep rally. I watched Assan's group return carrying the buffet table. They deposited it in front of the Tor and then knelt respectfully.

'No.'

Bozcowski interrupted his speech to look at me, his scowl creasing his face like an origami sculpture. 'What did you say?'

'No,' I repeated, 'as in no altar, no pagan sacrifice, no me laying down for it.'

'But… you agreed.'

'Yes, I agreed to die tonight. But I didn't agree how.' Why did I agree to anything? I am, without a doubt, the stupidest woman on earth!

Assan and his cohorts had risen from their soggy knees to hear our conversation. Now Assan's bottom lip jutted out and his glassy black eyes narrowed to slits. 'You have to use the altar. I brought the sacred sword and everything.' As if I could've forgotten about the weapon that had cracked against my calves all the way down the back stairs and then nearly threw me head-first through the trap-door of the wine cellar when it had gotten tangled up between my ankles.

'Is that the same sword you used to leave little carvings in your brother-in-law's chest?' I asked it in a whisper. My churning gut wouldn't allow anything louder.

'Yes. But we won't need the runes for you. Just a clean, quick execution.'

'Oh?' Weren't we being so polite? I could hardly stand it.

'We have no need to hold your soul in stasis because the Tor-al-Degan is already here, prepared to eat it. At least, most of her is here. The rest will arrive soon.'

'I'm confused. She looks like she's all here. You can't see through her or anything.'

'Looks can be deceiving.' I thought about my recent trip outside Physicality and decided not to argue the point. But Vayl had told me to stall, so I reached over the nausea, past the dawning migraine, and plucked out a subject they wouldn't be able to resist.

'I understand what happened to Amanda's brother. But what about the torso? It had the same markings.'

Assan pursed his lips and refused to speak. Aidyn was the one who answered me.

'After the debacle with Assan's brother-in-law, we discovered our goddess needed a willing sacrifice. So we petitioned a member of our sect to provide it. He gladly stepped into her jaws, but his soul did not free her. That was when we learned of the second twist, that the sacrifice must be willing, but not a worshiper of the Tor-al- Degan.'

Wow. Whoever had trapped the Tor had gone to great lengths to ensure she remained trapped. Leave it to a bunch of vampire/terrorist punks to foul a perfectly good binding spell.

Liliana had been quiet up to now, sizing me up like a tigress waiting in the weeds. To look at her you'd never guess she'd taken a dive off a roof recently. Unless you made the mistake of meeting her eyes. The memory stood there, poisonous and pissed. Suddenly she pounced. 'Where is your sverhamin now, you mortal cow?' she asked, sidling up to me as if we were about to share a juicy secret.

Though Derek's scent made me want to curl up in a ball and pretend this was all a bad dream, I straightened and held her off with a raised hand, as if I were a running back in a slow motion replay. 'Back off, Liliana.'

She grabbed Derek's forearm and pulled him, stumbling slightly, to stand beside her. He looked much worse than the last time I'd seen him. His jaw was slack, his eyes unfocused, his skin bright red with fever. He kept reaching out with his hands, making pinching motions with his fingers like a kid at a 3-D movie.

I raised my hand higher, leaning my back against a column.