“There was a mix-up in Australia. I accidental y packed one of your T-shirts in my suitcase. So I was folding it back into my luggage because Dave and I are coming up to visit you and Evie. It was supposed to be a surprise—” She swal owed a sob.
“Tel me now, Cassandra.” I tried to keep my voice calm. No sense in shouting at the woman who’d already saved my brother’s life with one of her visions. But if she’d been in the room I’d have shaken her til her teeth rattled.
“When I touched your shirt I saw you, leaning over Vayl’s body. He had a stake through his heart.
The blood—oh, Jaz, the blood.” She started to cry for real now.
“Anything else? Come on, Cassandra, I need to know everything you Saw.” I’d zipped into my pants. Run to the stairs. Managed to make it to the second floor without breaking my neck. Jack was way ahead of me.
“I don’t know. There’s this explosion, but not like the kind you see in movies. It’s more… ripply.
And at the middle is a young man. Younger than you. Tal er, even, than Vayl, with ful brown hair that keeps fal ing onto his forehead. He’s snarling, which makes two deep dimples appear on his cheeks. He’s standing in front of a tal oak door above which is hanging—”
“A pike with a gold tassel,” I finished.
“Yes!”
“Shit! Cassandra, that’s Vayl’s front door. And you’ve just described the kid who was ringing the bel .”
“Did he answer?”
“I don’t—”
A shot rang out, tearing my heart in two. Jack growled menacingly, already on his way down the final set of steps. I glanced into the wel made by the turn of the stairs from second to first floor. Yeah, I could jump it. So I did, landing on another one of Vayl’s overstuffed sofas. The impact sent me rol ing into the walnut coffee table fronting it, knocking it across the hal into a case ful of antique knives. I raised my arm, protecting my face from the shattering glass.
Not knowing how far the glass had scattered, I protected my bare feet by jumping back onto the couch. Then I took half a second to assess the situation.
Twenty feet from me, at the other end of the hal in front of the open door, Vayl lay in a spreading pool of blood, the bloody hole in his forehead a result of the .38 Special lying on the floor. There were two reasons the young man kneeling over him wasn’t stil holding it. He needed both hands for the hammer and stake he now held poised over Vayl’s chest. And Jack’s teeth had sunk deep enough into his right wrist that by now he’d have been forced to drop it anyway.
Only a guy as big as this one wouldn’t have been thrown completely off balance by a ful -on attack via 120-pound malamute. Despite the fact that a hundred pounds of the guy was weight he didn’t need, his size had kept him off his back, though it hadn’t al owed him to recover his balance enough to counter with the stake in his free hand. That would change if I didn’t reach the scene in time.
I jumped to the outer part of the stairs, holding the rail to keep from fal ing as I cleared the fal out from the display case. Another jump took me to the floor. Five running steps gave me a good start for a spin kick that should’ve caught the intruder on the temple, breaking his glasses in at least two places and taking him down so hard he’d be dreaming before his head bounced. But unless they’re drugged, people don’t just sit and wait for the blow.
He pul ed back, catching my heel on his nose. It broke, spraying blood al over his shirt and Jack.
His glasses flew off, hitting the wal , but remaining miraculously intact. And it didn’t take him down. In fact, it seemed to motivate him. Desperation fil ed his eyes. He ripped his hammer hand out of Jack’s grip, though the bloody rips in his forearm would hurt like a son of a bitch when his adrenaline rush faded.
Afraid his next move would be a blow to my dog, I lunged at him. I was wrong. He threw the hammer at me, forcing me to hit the floor. I rol ed when I felt his shadow loom, knowing the worst scenario was me pinned under al that weight. But it never fel on me. I jumped to my feet and began to unholster Grief, though the last thing I wanted was to kil the bastard before I found out who’d sent him.
Stil , I was too late. The intruder had retrieved his revolver and was aiming the barrel at my chest.
He’d probably hit me too if he squinted hard enough and held his breath long enough to stop shaking. The only positive I could see was that I stood between him and Vayl. For now.
Jack growled menacingly and began to approach the man, his fur standing on end so that he looked like the miniature bear he sounded most like when he vocalized.
The gun wavered as the man said, “You tel that dog to stop, or I wil shoot it.”
“No, Jack,” I said. “Sit.”
He came to an unhappy stop beside me. Once again I stood staring at my ultimate end.
Because my Spirit Guide had informed me that my body couldn’t take another rise to life. If this scumbag capped me, I’d be done. And I
I said, “I don’t know you. And I thought I’d pegged al of our enemies. You’re not a werewolf.
You’re not Vampere. You’re definitely no pro.”
His eyebrows went up. So. He hadn’t been told about our work. Baffling. Stil , whoever picked him had chosen wel . Amateurs occasional y succeeded where professionals failed because they were unpredictable. And motivated. This one definitely had his reasons for being here. I could see it in the way his eyebrows kept twitching down toward his nose. He was a time bomb ready to blow everyone in the room to bloody bits.
He raised the gun. Uh-oh. While I’d been thinking, so had he. And it looked like he’d made a decision. “You need to walk away from that vampire,” he said.
“No.”
He pushed the revolver toward me, to make sure I understood he could pul the trigger. “I’m not playing. I wil
