Jaz Parks 5 - One More Bite

“I’m driving a van toward them at seventy miles an hour. That gives you a little more than two minutes to theo m>

His answer was to tighten his seat belt and reach back to get a good grip on Jack’s collar.

“Oohrah!” yelled my dad. “This takes me back! Anybody got a weapon I can use?”

“Goddammit, you’re staying in the van!”

“What if somebody sneaks in through the back? Or breaks a window? This glass isn’t bulletproof, you know.”

“I am driving an unfamiliar vehicle down a narrow road I’ve never seen before. Do you really want to be pissing me off right now?”

Vayl handed Albert his cane. “Just twist the blue crystal on the top,” he said. “The sheath shoots off, which many of my opponents have found detrimental to their health to begin with. Inside is a weapon made by an Indian sword smith known the world over for his secret forging techniques. The blade is over seven hundred years old and it has never lost its edge.”

I glanced in the rearview in time to see the respect squaring Albert’s jaw as he accepted Vayl’s sword. The fingers of one hand brushed lightly against the tigers stalking each other from one end of the sheath to the other. “Thanks,” he said. “I’ll make sure it gets back to you in good shape.”

“Brownnoser,” I whispered to Vayl as he settled back into his seat.

“Whatever I have to do  .  .  .” He let the sentence hang long enough that I shot a look his direction. His eyes, luminous in my Bergman-enhanced vision, made suggestions that sucked the breath right out of my lungs. I forced my attention back to the road, but didn’t try to hide my growing grin. Why was it that when we were about to pull something extreme he managed to wind up my nerves and spin them like a basketball on the tip of his finger? Hard to freak about the possible cannibalization of your friend, or your own imminent doom, with Mr. Right exuding confidence and desire in equal doses at your elbow.

I glanced at him one more time, let him see the smile that showed I understood his message: Relax. We’re going to kick ass like we always do. Because it’s us.

Cirilai sent a shot of warmth up my left arm. It linked Vayl and me in a way that suddenly became clear as we hurtled around another corner and found ourselves careening through the parking lot of Clava Cairns on our way to disaster.

For a second it was hard to see past the glitter, as if hundreds of reflectors had been set in the small cavities of the cairns and around the trunks of the nearest trees. Seriously? Could those all be diamonds? I wondered. Then I had no time left to ponder.

Eleven Scidairans, varying in age from eighteen to sixty, danced around a fire whose flames flared in vivid blues and purples. Did I mention most of the ladies were naked? My father, who had once gone for two weeks before realizing I’d gotten my hair cut short, noticed right away.

“Son of a bitch, look at the tits on that brunette!”

“Yeah, Dad, we’re all about boobs in the CIA,” I snapped. “We have whole courses in how to tell the difference between the real ones and the fake ones.”

“Who cares?” my father responded. “As long as they bounce I’m a happy camper. How about you, Vayl?”

Hard to interpret the sound that came from my sverhamin’s throat. Either he was dying of asphyxiation or he thought my dad was the funniest man on earth but didn’t want me to know it.

Rather than scattering as soon as the headlights of our Alhambra hit them, the coven members huddled together, their long, stringy hair and heavily lined eyes combined with their lily-white skin to make them resemble unearthed corpses. The two who’d retained their clothes hung back, somehow familiar but too hard to place at our current speed.

As one of the coven screamed a phrase I didn’t recognize, the rest smashed their hands together. Whatever they threw must’ve been potent. Because I could smell it before it crashed into the windshield. A spell of such combined ill will that as soon as it hit, it took color and form. A green, hollow-eyed Fury with serpentine hair and fangs the size of my fist.

I turned my head, raising my right arm to protect it against the flying glass. Something screamed, sounding like a tire squealing on pavement, though by now we were bumping over the grassy path that led to the cairns. I felt the bracelet on my wrist shiver, as if I’d grabbed the handle of a working chain saw. When cool air hit my face instead of glass, I dared a look.

The bracelet had released its own form. An image of Tolly, looking miffed. At me. “For this I’m missing Animal Planet?”

I shrugged, my hands still full of speeding van. I aimed it straight for the coven as Tolly frowned. She grabbed the Fury by the throat just as it lunged for Vayl. Opening her mouth as big as she could, which was pretty wide considering her relative size at the moment, she bit its head off.

“I thought you were a vegetarian,” I said.

“I am,” she replied. “Philosophically speaking.”

“Huh.” I spun the wheel, sending the Alhambra into a high-speed turn that raised dead leaves, new grass, and dirt as high as the windows. Best of all, the coven members ran like spooked squirrels as we circled around for another go at them.

“Don’t I get a thanks?” she demanded.

“We’re not through yet,” I said.

“Well, I am, doll. I’ve only got so much juice for one night. And it’s used up.”

“Well, then, thanks. I owe you one.”

“Yes, you do.” Still chewing, she disappeared into the leaves of the nearest beech tree.