“Not lately,” I muttered, thinking darkly of the three senators on our Oversight Committee.
Vayl’s lip twitched as he went on. “So, while we understand that Roldan is expecting us, of course we are not going to appear on his doorstep with a gift basket.”
“I’d like to send a gift basket to—”
Raoul frowned at me. “Jaz, seriously, eat your frozen cookie dough.” I licked some ice cream off my spoon, which might or might not have been interpreted as sticking my tongue out at my Spirit Guide, as Vayl finished. “Roldan has no idea I am stil alive and wil not hear from Brude because we know a psychic who wil help Jasmine block his emanations completely.”
He nodded to me, giving me leave to cal Cassandra, who sure as hel did know the trick. I might’ve been surprised to learn that once, but this chick had ducked a deal she’d made with a demon for five hundred years. Of course she’d studied up on the lore. She gave me a prayer that I memorized within thirty seconds, told me exactly where to splash the holy water (behind the ears, real y?), and I knew it had worked when Brude wailed like a lottery winner who’s just watched his ticket go sailing overboard.
When I came back to the table, grinning widely at my success, Vayl paused in his explanation to say, “I was just tel ing Aaron and Raoul that we wil make a public production of my murder and tomorrow we wil send Aaron to Roldan’s lair with the remains of a vampire in hand, as he requested. That wil get him, and us, through the front door, so to speak. After which point he wil hide in a very sturdy closet until we are finished with my old nemesis.”
“Where are you going to get vampire remains?” Junior and I asked at almost the same time.
Vayl sat back in his chair almost triumphantly. “A Rogue has entered my territory. I have given him several days to move on because, ah, I have been otherwise occupied.” He didn’t look at me, which was a good thing, because he’d have seen me shoveling Edy’s Slow Churned into my gul et so fast that I gave myself brain freeze.
“Ahh!” I smacked my hand against my forehead.
“Jaz!” Raoul grabbed my shoulder. “Are you al right?”
Vayl lunged forward and half-lifted me from my chair. “What is it? What do you need?”
“Freaking ice cream. God
No, I’m fine. I was just… yeah, eating too greedily. Won’t do it again, I promise.” They sank into their chairs, obviously debating whether or not to clonk me over the head with Vayl’s ice cream scoop.
I smiled weakly. “So, we’re going to smoke a Rogue vamp? That could be fun.” CHAPTER FIVE
I’ve traveled al over the world. But as I stood outside Vayl’s house in the wee hours of that mid-June morning, my dog sitting quietly at my side, I decided nothing felt quite as peaceful as rural Ohio by moonlight. The smel of growing corn and recent rain cleared my lungs and my head. I turned my back to the neatly trimmed lawn that separated Vayl’s property from the surrounding woods and fields, and studied the three men who stood in the shadow of my
Vayl stood talking quietly to Aaron, their dark hair almost melding into one picture. But while Vayl held himself tal and proud, one hand resting comfortably on his jewel-topped cane while the other twirled an old-fashioned wooden stake and managed not to snag it in the pocket of his black jeans or on his longsleeved black button-down, Aaron slouched. It wasn’t even a comfortable I’m-chil in’-
with-the-beats kind of shoulder hump. It was an I’m-out-of-my-league-but-I’m-plowing-through-anyway kind of hunch. And it didn’t ease from talking to the vampire, so whatever Vayl was saying provided no comfort. Raoul couldn’t help himself, he probably had a soldier’s bearing even in true Eldhayr form. As it was, the erectness of his posture could only have been copied by a straight, strong oak tree. And he sure didn’t look like he’d be comfortable if we invited him to rest on the come-and-sit-a-spel front porch that marched al the way around the perimeter of the house, stopping only at its fairy-tale turret that somehow made me feel underdressed.
Like Vayl, I’d changed into darker clothes. I wore a navy blue runner’s pul over with long sleeves, and even darker blue cargo pants. I felt a little guilty for not using every single pocket, but I carried what I needed up top. Grief was ful y loaded with vamp-kil ing arrows. And I’d strapped my vial of holy water to my right arm.
Knowing that Vayl and Raoul were also properly armed, and that between us we’d manage to make sure Junior didn’t become vamptoast, I let my gaze wander. To the right of the house sat the brick garage, which didn’t seem attached when you looked at it from the outside. But when it was storming, or you just didn’t want whoever was outdoors to see you access the house from the car shelter, there were underground passageways. Since we didn’t trust Aaron to keep information about Vayl’s secret tunnels, doors, and bookcases to himself, we’d brought him to the party the oldfashioned way. Raoul, however, had just assumed the invitation covered him as wel . Which was why I said, “Look. You don’t have to come. In fact, kil ing Rogue vamps couldn’t have been on your to- do list today. Why don’t you—”
“You’re not getting rid of me,” Raoul said flatly. “My job is to keep you alive as long as possible.
I’d never forgive myself if some random
“See?” said Aaron. “Even he thinks vampires are monsters!”
“That’s not what I said,” Raoul corrected him. “Stop trying your lawyer talk on me, boy. I have no patience for half-truths and hidden lies.”
As I quietly admired the way Raoul had put the little bigot in his place, Vayl spoke in a quiet voice that demanded the kind of attention that even the crickets had to respect. “Aaron, when you were Rom and your name was Badu, it used to infuriate you when people cal ed you a gypsy. They did not mean the word kindly. And you did not understand why the accident of your birth should pin such hatred upon you that you were once arrested for walking down the street in the company of a local girl.” He paused, looked down at the cane that had accompanied him through much of the past two centuries. The tigers that stalked down its length kept their judgments to themselves as he said,
“The boy you were would spit on the man you have become.”
