curtains and so much marble the room could've doubled as a mausoleum.
'Some would tell you you're already there,' said my companion.
I would've pegged him as a fighter from the start, even without the crew cut and the upright bearing. I recognized those eyes, had grown up around men with the same look. Only battle will do that, only pitched battle and the death of men you love like brothers.
I also recognized him from our last encounter, when he'd mended my broken neck on the blood-stained floor of a house that should never have been called 'safe.'
The guy, this warrior had smiled when I showed up and he'd said, 'There you are,' as if we'd prearranged my appearance in the middle of his hotel room. He'd left his perch on a black leather bar-stool and come to shake my hand. 'Hello, Jasmine, my name is Raoul.' Spain bronzed his skin and flavored his accent, but his manner was pure American military.
'I'm dead, aren't I?'
He'd cocked his head to one side, as if sizing up the new recruit, 'That remains to be seen.'
I'd gone to the window then, confused and somewhat depressed, pretty sure I'd been relegated to the eternal Between. Below me, Sin City sparkled like a Desert Queen's tiara. Too bad the stones were fake.
'I guess some people would like to spend eternity gambling and watching showgirls strut across the stage,' I said. I turned from the window and dropped onto a couch that made every bone in my unbody sigh with pleasure. 'Shoot, I wouldn't mind spending a couple of weeks doing that myself.'
Raoul settled onto a matching couch that met mine at a 45-degree angle. I suddenly realized this room was arranged the same way I'd done the furniture in Diamond Suites and Bergman's safe house. Yes, and in that long ago place where Aidyn had destroyed my life.
'Have I been here before?' I asked.
He nodded.
'And David? Has he been here?'
'In a way.'
'Oh.'
'You're not supposed to remember.'
'Hmm.'
'Are you okay?'
'Should I be?'
He smiled again. 'Probably not.'
'So, why am I here?'
He looked surprised, as if I should know. 'You're a hero.'
I was beginning to get the idea. 'Look,
'Despite the fact that it's a very catchy phrase, there is no such thing as an army of one.'
'What exactly is it that you want?'
He gave me that don't-play-dumb-with-me look that you just hate to see when you're stalling. But to my surprise, he gave me an answer. 'You're sitting in headquarters, soldier. It's time to re-up or retire. It's your call, of course, but we'd like you to continue your work.'
I jerked my head toward the window. 'Funny place for a headquarters.'
'We try to stay close to the front.'
'Then you should be in Miami.'
'The battle there has been won.'
'But not the war?'
'You did not defeat the Raptor, though you were right to believe he was behind the plot to begin with.'
'Was he ever even there?'
'No. He is a canny beast. You won't catch him easily. But I digress. You need to make a choice.'
I nodded. It was time to move on, then, one way or another. I could retire. The word 'rest' hovered out there like a green velvet dressing gown. But I'd seen what it had done to Albert and there was no reason to think I'd be any more content. Plus, my retirement would leave Evie to cope with the cantankerous old man. I'd never see her baby girl. I'd never hear Dave's story, which must be as remarkable as my own. Bergman and Cassandra would probably kill each other. Cole would become a bitter old man. And Vayl… Vayl would wander the earth, alone, longing for his sons. Longing for me.
I looked Raoul in the eye. 'I'm in.'
'Excellent.' He nodded at me and a mystical wind rose in the room, knocking over lamps, shattering vases, forcing me to squeeze my eyes shut tight.
When I opened them again, Cole's face was inches away, his breath still warm in my mouth, his fingers pressing against my neck. When he felt the blood move once again inside me, a blissful look of triumph settled over his face.
'She's back,' he said, looking over his shoulder. Cassandra and Bergman hugged and gave me thumbs up. Vayl
