“You—want to help me?”
Raoul shrugged a shoulder. “You’ve earned it.”
That was al . But coming from an Eldhayr it meant more than a thousand words because it pointed so directly at one: “Redemption.” Vayl reached across the table and leaned forward enough for Raoul to meet him halfway and give him a powerful handshake that was as much an affirmation of Vayl’s future as it was a contract.
Raoul sat back, relaxing into a smile as he added, “Besides. I’m probably in so much trouble already that by the time I get back they’l have demoted me to a desk piled with charts and raw data.”
“Is it that bad?” I asked.
He shook his head, but he said, “There’s a reason some of the Eminent cal me an interfering old hen.” He held up his hand when I started to apologize. After al , I was the one who kept demanding that he get his ass front and center before my world swirled back into the crapper. “I’m a big boy, Jasmine. I make my own choices, and I stand by every one of them.”
“Then I hope you enjoy flying.” Everyone stared at Vayl. Especial y Jack, who’d rather spend the day getting rabies shots than take another ride on one of those gigantic birds whose wings never ever flapped.
Vayl nodded decisively. “We must go to Romania. That is where the bodies of my boys are buried. Once we are there, David wil try to reach the soul of Hanzi.”
“What about me?” Aaron had leaped to his feet, his arms outstretched in one of those how-dare-you-forget-me gestures that always made me want to kick people in the ribs.
Vayl’s eyes glittered so brightly that Junior immediately dropped his hands as his former father said, “I have a plan for you as wel .”
CHAPTER TEN
We are expert travelers. Together Vayl and I have hit so many different countries our passports look like a little girl’s sticker book. We’ve flown over oceans, deserts, mountains, and swamps.
You’d think a little trip to Romania would pul itself together in a matter of hours. Um, no.
Romania is not so simple to reach from America. You’ve gotta fly into a much more popular destination first. Say London or Paris. Then there’s the train. And, after that, even more transportation to arrange, since not everybody would fit into my shiny black 1963 Ford Galaxie. And I was damned if I was going to leave my baby home after Vayl had promised me I’d never have to drive a shit-sucking rental again.
Also we had a huge group to deal with. I felt like a damn travel agent keeping track of Dave and Cassandra, who needed privacy whenever possible, and Bergman, who demanded special dispensation for his electronics. Cole and Raoul were easygoing enough, but Aaron flipped out at the idea of eating “foreign” food, which was when we learned of his
Although Raoul made Jack jealous by doting on Astral, Bergman accidental y caught Dave and Cassandra in the sauna, which grossed him out so much that he threatened to go home, and Cole made Aaron scream like a little girl by slipping his clanking vamp teeth into his shower, Vayl final y herded us al onto the plane two nights later. And after traveling so long that I considered shooting every single member of my party, including those I loved the most, we final y arrived in the brightly lit city that had once sparkled like a gem among the mountains and hil s that surrounded it.
Bucharest had style, it just couldn’t decide what kind. An eclectic mix of classic French architecture, modern skyscrapers, and decrepit old hulks ready to tumble into the street during the next big earthquake, it couldn’t seem to shake the shadow of Communism that had tried to hammer it senseless for so many years. And yet I loved the place. Because it, and its people, had figured out how to survive. And more, because they’d final y stood up to their twisted government and yel ed,
“Bul shit!” So whenever I saw a couple holding hands or a family sauntering down the sidewalk, I waved respectful y as I drove down wide black boulevards that reminded me bizarrely of streets I’d navigated in St. Louis. That is, except for the metal fence that marched down the median. And the sad lack of shapely automobiles to keep mine company. (Note to European automakers: Square sucks. Pass it on.)
Vayl sat in the front of the car with me, listening to the Galaxie’s engine thrum like the bass of our favorite song. Cole and Bergman lounged in the back with Jack draped across their laps as if he’d decided they might get cold without his kind assistance. Their heads were bent over Astral, whose fur was split from neck to ears so Bergman could see better as he tinkered, using the miniature tool set he stored in his front pocket. None of us discussed the sights as we headed out of the city, north toward Peles Castle and the woods surrounding. Because we knew that somewhere inside the trees on the distant horizon, Vayl had buried his sons. And how do you make smal talk about a minaret-roofed museum with that thought dangling at the front of your mind?
Eventual y I’d be there for Vayl. Maybe even figure a way to talk to him about it. But for now I had to concentrate on getting my old girl through traffic that didn’t seem to include a single trained driver who cared if he or she survived to get to the dance club. Except, maybe, for Dave, who was piloting the monstrosity behind us.
I touched the tiny plastic receiver stuck just inside my ear. I’d be able to hear anything going on in the vehicle behind us because Bergman had provided enough of the Party Line sets to go around the whole group. The microphones, which looked like beauty marks, rested on different parts of our faces. Mine was just to the right of my upper lip. Vayl said it made him want to nibble on me, so I had sworn never to wear it anywhere else. The rest of the crew wore theirs near their mouths as wel , except for Cole, who insisted that his should rest on the inner curve of his nose until he could find a nymph to pierce it, and then it could become part of the nose ring. Nymphpiercings, he’d said, were lucky, but I hadn’t been able to ask him why at the time. And now didn’t seem quite the moment either, so I put it off again. But I suddenly realized that somebody needed to say something. The silence was diving too deep.
I glanced at Vayl, wondering if he understood that, as in every other mission with potential y dire consequences, we needed this downtime to unclench if we were going to operate on al cylinders when it mattered most. He’d lived a long time. Surely he understood why people needed to banter, tease, and, yeah, laugh. Sometimes even when they were at wakes.
