As he had so often in the past, Vayl touched his eyes to mine, sensed the direction of my thoughts, and turned slightly so my brother could see his half-smile as he said, “David? The quiet is disturbing in that children-are-up-to-no-good sort of way. Is everything going al right back there?”
“So far so good,” my brother replied. “Except I think Raoul is chafing. We may have to stop for baby powder.”
“I don’t need powder!” Raoul exclaimed.
I looked in the rearview mirror at the vehicle fol owing us and shook my head yet again. Where Vayl had scrounged the 1968 Volkswagen bus I didn’t dare ask. But I did make a mental note never to let him near the Internet again. It had come equipped with a microphone because it actual y had been a touring vehicle. Which worked for our cover. So we’d dressed Raoul in a party big in little paris T-shirt and stiff new blue jeans and informed him he was our guide. Then we’d had to tel him to at least try to look relaxed. For his sake I regretted the necessity of asking him to shuck his uniform, but it’s kind of tough to pul off the whole tour group disguise when the guy who’s supposed to be showing you around Romania is dressed like a commando.
Despite the difficulty of steering the hefty vehicle through streets as busy as midtown Chicago, Dave managed the time to say, “Relax, Raoul! You look fabulous.” He switched to the fashionista voice he used when he real y wanted to make Albert crazy. “Those pants make your tush look like two ripe cantaloupes. Just so squeezable you’re gonna make al the boys swoon.” I grinned as Cole broke into peals of laughter behind me. I heard a clunk, which I imagined was Raoul dropping his head against the window as he moaned, “You people are insane. Even you, Cassandra. No, don’t sit there trying to look innocent. I know sooner or later you’re going to open up that giant bag of yours—what is it made of, Christmas beads?—and something alien is going to pop out that you’re going to expect me to kil .”
Cassandra chuckled. “Wel , I have noticed things seem to be moving around in there on their own.” Squeaky sound as she moved in her seat. “What do you think, Aaron? Is my lovely beaded purse haunted?”
“If it’s not now, it probably wil be before this is al over.” Gah. Leave it to Junior to spread dread al over the happy moment.
“That’s not necessarily true,” said Cassandra. Her voice, calm and smooth as a lake at sunrise, soothed me even from this distance.
But Aaron said, “Don’t touch me! I know you’re a psychic—hey! I thought you said you were engaged. That’s a wedding ring on your finger!”
Silence. The kind you get after you’ve stood next to the speakers at a rock concert. Ear-ringing, head-shaking silence.
Now, I know I’m supposed to be supah-spy. Damn near invincible because nothing gets past my eagle eyes. But I’m giving myself a pass on this one. I’d been a little distracted with Aaron’s assassination attempt, Cole’s big news, and the arrival of my entire crew within the fol owing twenty-four hours. Plus, Cassandra wore jewelry like at any minute she might be asked to trade it for food.
Gold studs lined her ears, fol owed by hoops so huge that smal bunnies could use them for col ars.
So many chains hung from her neck that I couldn’t imagine how she kept them from tangling into a huge gold coil. And each finger held at least two rings. Sometimes three.
So I instantly forgave myself that I hadn’t noticed before as I said, “What the hel ? Cassandra? Is Aaron right? Are you wearing a wedding ring?”
I wished I could look into her eyes. Her skin is so dark I can never tel if she’s blushing, but by damn, if she’d ducked her head so that her braids fel across her fine, high cheekbones I’d have known the score. When she didn’t instantly reply I snapped, “Daz, you tel me the truth, dammit!” Using my old nickname on Dave worked. My twin said, “We were going to tel everybody when we came north. You know, throw a little party? But every time we see you you’re in the middle of some crisis.” His voice dropped. “Seriously, Jaz, you need to consider reprioritizing your life. You know, before you can’t outrun the fire anymore.”
“Hey! Don’t try to deflect this on me. You got married and didn’t tel me!” I paused. “Or invite me!” Cassandra said, “Oh, Jasmine, I’m so sorry.” I could hear her tears even from this distance.
Which was kinda weird. Usual y she had better control of her emotions. I looked at Vayl, who nodded, and I suddenly realized how much my opinion of her mattered.
I wondered if al granddaughters had to put up with this kind of shit as my granny, stil cackling, hung the tapestry on the wal above her gleaming mahogany buffet. And then I forgave her everything.
She glanced at me over her shoulder, her eyes gleaming with the wisdom that only seems to come with age and daily doses of Geritol.
We both looked up at her needlework, a project so detailed I could pick out the shadowy form of the earthbane that the cowboy Zel Culver had vanquished reflected in his clear brown eyes. She’d added details I hadn’t picked up the first time I’d seen him as a hologram playing from Astral’s projector. Then he’d been part of a report detailing everything she knew about the Rocenz.
Now he wore a tooled leather band around the rim of his broadbrimmed hat, a plain brown longsleeved shirt, and worn leather chaps over dark brown work pants stained with blood. Blood spattered his worn work boots, but they looked comfortable rather than ratty. His plain silver buckle closed on a gunfighter’s rig, but the holsters hanging from its belt were empty. His hands hung at his sides, each one holding half of the tool that had
