The Deadliest Bite

make humanity want to destroy them.”

The doorbel rang. And, yeah, I’l admit I jumped inside the circle of Vayl’s arms. As he chuckled I said, “Speak of the devil.”

“If we ever have to deal with a Blank, believe me, he wil not announce his presence at the front door.”

“So who the hel is it?”

Vayl’s eyebrow raised a tick. “I suspect it might be the visitor you frightened off before.”

“Who shows up at a vampire’s door at”—I checked my watch—“one in the morning?

“Perhaps he is an encyclopedia salesman.”

“Vayl.” I hid a grin. Such a charming trait, this tendency to get stuck in the past. As long as it’s just little bits of him and not the whole enchilada. The thought sent stabbing pains through my chest every time I remembered our most recent trip abroad, which had ended with his nearly losing al sense of the present in Marrakech. I said, “Nobody buys encyclopedia sets from door-to-door salesmen anymore, because they can get al the information they need from the Internet.” His lips pressed together so tightly I’d almost cal his expression a glower. “How can you trust an entity everyone wil ingly refers to as a Web? If it is as large as they say, you must know the spider that spun it is mountainous.”

The doorbel rang again. I said, “I’d like nothing better than to discuss what weapons people use to protect themselves against netbugs. But it sounds like your guest real y wants in.” He pul ed me close. “Do not worry. It is probably a motorist who has lost his way. People who threaten me never ring the doorbel first. Besides, I saw him on the second-floor security cameras the first time he was here. He is an innocent.”

“How could you tel ?” I demanded.

“It is one of my gifts.”

“Fine.” I started grabbing underwear. “But I’m not real y prepared to entertain. Where’s my shirt?”

“I think we left it in the guest bedroom.”

Okay, that meant a run upstairs. But where were my pants? Oh yeah, the library. I’d probably never find my heels again.

“Do you know where your clothes are?” I asked.

“My pants are in the kitchen. And I believe you dropped my shirt in the bil iard room,” Vayl answered as he slipped back into his boxers, his eyes sparkling like newly polished gems at the memory of our latest game.

“Okay, that leaves you to deal with the dude at the door.” I checked the monitor beside the light switch. “He looks nervous. Also tired.”

“He has probably been driving in circles al night. I suggest you take the back stairs. I wil get rid of him as soon as possible, and then let us go shopping for dinner supplies, shal we? Tonight I think we should try cooking spaghetti again. Perhaps this time I can teach you how to boil pasta without clumping it.”

“Good luck with that. Although I’m sure Jack would appreciate a decent meal. He’s probably sick of Purina,” I said as we walked toward the back of the house, the doorbel insisting that we both move our asses because young-and-nervous needed to find his way back home!

“Wait a moment,” Vayl said as he opened the kitchen entrance to the newly fenced backyard.

“Jack wants to go with you.” My enormous gray-and-white malamute stepped inside and brushed past him, nodding his thanks. (Yes, I’m serious. He’s uberpolite. Even poops in the same spot so you don’t have to go “treasure hunting” every afternoon.) I hadn’t yet turned toward the servants’

stairs, but Jack divined my intentions and trotted up to the second floor before stopping at the top, grinning at me from white-toothed doggy chops as if to say, See what good shape I’m in? You should never leave me home during a mission again.

I ran up after him, patting his head affectionately as I passed him on the way to the guest bedroom. “You’re right. I missed you like crazy too. I’l try to keep you close from now on, okay?” The door I wanted had been thrown wide during Vayl’s hunt, the puffy pink duvet stil pul ed up to reveal the spot where I’d hidden under the four-poster bed. I crossed to the freestanding mirror where he’d tossed my tailored white shirt over the support structure. I threw it on over my bra.

Stepped across the hal to the big, elegant room I shared with him to grab a pair of cheek-covering panties to slip on. And, of course, the pet that had preceded Jack had to come with me too, so on went the shoulder holster I’d left sitting on the mahogany dresser. Inside it rested a Walther PPK that had once shot only regular ammo. Then Bergman got ahold of it. Now, with the flick of a button, it transformed into a vamp-smacking crossbow.

Jack had spent the time sniffing hopeful y at the sofa that sat at the foot of the bed, its soft gold leather inviting him to jump up and make himself at home. “Don’t even think about it,” I told him.

“There’s a reason your bed’s downstairs. Now let’s bolt before you get into real trouble. I think I hear my pants ringing.”

We ran up the main stairs to the third floor, where I found my jeans crumpled beside the cozy brown suede chair where I liked to curl up every afternoon with a book and a can of Diet Coke. I pul ed my phone out of the back pocket and stuck it between my ear and shoulder while I shoved my legs into my Levi’s.

“Hel o?”

“Jaz? Where’s Vayl?”

“Hi, Cassandra. He’s with me.”

“He’s al right then?”

“What?” I felt my fingers go numb. Usual y I reacted faster. It was my job to make sure my emotions didn’t cloud my judgment. Even for the two seconds it took me to realize my psychic friend was freaking out about my lover. “What did you See?”