Bitten in Two (6 page)

If I fail with Helena, I wil never forgive myself.” I hadn’t heard the girl’s story before. And the fact that he’d never mentioned her didn’t leave me much hope for a happy ending. So instead of reassuring him I said, “We al know you’re doing your best by her.”

“It wil mean nothing if Roldan takes her.” As if I needed another reason to pul Vayl back to the present. But now I just had to know what had happened to Helena. And the Berggias. I decided to cal Cassandra as soon as we got inside. And if her first words were “I’m stumped!” I was going to swal ow my pride—and a big spurt of fear—and bring in Sterling. Since our department had been shut down he couldn’t be that busy, unless his band had lined up a bunch of gigs to fil his free time, in which case I’d just have to convince (bribe) him to cancel. I wondered if our resident warlock stil favored the Tul amore Dew. And if so, how was I supposed to get my hands on a case of Irish whiskey in the middle of a teetotaling country like Morocco?

Though I’d done it at least a dozen times already, I stil wasn’t used to the transition. Stepping from the dusty, crowded streets of the old city into the quiet elegance of Monique Landry’s traditional Moroccan vil a, with its blue and white tiled floors, their pattern so intricate I stood in awe at the time and care that had gone into the job. Smal er tiles in brighter shades of green, red, yel ow, and white climbed a third of the way up the ground floor’s wal s and lined the stairways on either side of the main entrance.

Above the tile, pink or gold stucco was decoration unto itself, though here and there an original painting hung, usual y signed by a local artist who had managed to capture the radiant soul that moved within every corner of the city.

Everywhere we went in the riad—whether it was the big lounge in the front of the place, the formal dining room down the south hal , the kitchen at the west end of the house, up the stairs to the rooms we’d rented, or out to the courtyard where our after-dark meetings occurred—scal oped archways marked the passages, as if the doorways themselves wore lace scarves out of respect for Al ah.

Monique had managed an atmosphere of elegant warmth throughout her home. Except for this moment when, stepping into the lounge, I felt the sinister aura of conspiracy tainting the air. My first clue was that Bergman had not only beaten us downstairs, but was wil ingly sharing space with our hostess and Kyphas. Astral looked far too innocent sitting in the doorway with her tail curled around her paws like an actual cat. And Cole was shoving me into the room like he was afraid I meant to make a run for it.

Then I saw the cake.

And Bergman started singing.

And Cole handed me his phone—which I put to my ear

—only to hear my sister harmonizing from thousands of miles away.

I waited for the rush of pain that I’d been trying to avoid al day, now that I’d been forceful y reminded that this was the second birthday I’d spent without Matt. That the mind-blowing celebration I’d been planning with Vayl had melted into a nightmare.

It didn’t come.

Instead I saw my old roommate, his ridiculous Cole-perm flying out from his head like Einstein Jr.’s, holding a flaming dessert out in front of him. Which meant Monique had rushed out in the middle of the evening just for me. At my right, the man who loved me and would never be more than my dearest companion had made it al happen. At my left, the vampire I’d become so entwined with that I couldn’t tel anymore where I stopped and he began was trying to comprehend how everyone knew the words to a song he was sure he’d never heard before. But he stil had a smile for me. In a dark wicker chair with palm-printed cushions, separate from us al but struggling to understand how we fit so wel together, a demon managed not to stain the moment. And in my ear, my kid sister belted like a Broadway star.

When they were done I said, “Thanks. This is so cool of you guys. I’d say you shouldn’t have, but it turns out I’m glad you did.”

Cole gave me a gentle shove toward the courtyard. “Go on. Talk to Evie. We’l wait.”

As I walked out I heard Vayl say, “What is that contraption Madame Berggia is holding to her ear? Has she gone partial y deaf?”

she gone partial y deaf?”

Ignoring Cole’s attempt to explain his cel , I spoke to my sister for the first time since Vayl’s… accident. “Yo, Evie, thanks for checking in!”

“As if I’d miss this day,” she replied. “Have you found any rad new medicinal plants out there in the middle of nowhere?”

I took half a beat to sink into my research scientist Evie-cover. “Morocco’s amazingly cosmopolitan,” I informed her.

“Especial y in the new section of the city. But to answer your question, no, nothing major. We’re going out into the countryside again tomorrow. Don’t worry, if I have anything to do with it, Demlock Pharmaceuticals wil find at least five or six cancer cures in our lifetimes.”

“Wel , hurry it up. E.J.’s grown about a foot since you saw her!”

“That’s physical y impossible. Put her on the phone.” I waited until I could hear my infant niece gnawing on the receiver. “E.J.? This is your auntie Jaz. Are you being a good girl?”

I heard a gurgle. Or maybe a burp. And imagined the phone covered in regurgitated breast milk. Gross.

“Child, you’re what, almost four months old now? Stop being so cooperative and tel Mommy you want your own phone. Make sure you get texting. I hear that’s the new craze among babies your age.”

Evie said, “Are you corrupting my kid?”

“It’s my job. Look up Auntly Duties online. The description’s on Wikipedia.”

Evie laughed. “Okay, now cut the BS and tel me what’s wrong.”

“I—nothing. I’m having a fabulous birthday.”

“It’s only four o’clock here. That means I have a ful hour until Tim gets home. E.J.’s just discovered her hands, so al I have to do is make sure she finds them again after she’s lost them and I can nag you until you break.”

“I think Congress considers that torture.”

“Spil .”

I sighed and looked around the courtyard. It was empty.

Which meant Chef Henri, who liked to savor a glass of wine after work, had probably already gone home for the night. I stepped into the gazebo farthest from the front of the house and curled up on the couch. “I’ve been dating a guy at work.”

Amazing. Thousands of miles from home and my sister’s squeal stil forced me to pul the phone away from my ear.

I said, “See, this is why I don’t tel you things. Now my eardrum is bleeding.”

“It is not! Tel me al about him.”

Ha! Like I want you jumping a plane to Marrakech so
you can shake your finger under Vayl’s nose and make
him promise to keep his fangs to himself!

“He’s, ah, older than me.”
But only by a few hundred
years.

“Is he hot?”

Why did I suddenly feel like we were teenagers again?

First day at our new school, trading stories about the cute guys in our math classes. I said, “Smoldering.”

“Oh my God, I gotta sit down. Wait, I’m already sitting down. Okay, go on.”

“Would you rein it in? It’s not like that. Wel , it was. But now, I don’t know. He’s… changed.”

“Aw, Jazzy, tel me he’s not married.”

“No. He was, but she’s dead.”
In fact, I killed the evil
bitch, but I’ll edit that one out of our little talk too, ’kay?

Dammit, why did I start this in the first place? I hate lying
to you.

Granny May spoke up from behind a bridge hand that, from the sparkle in her eyes, looked to be a winner.
Maybe
you needed to talk to somebody real for once
, she said.

One of the few people you know who’s in a good
relationship.

Could be.
I tipped my mental hat to her, acknowledging a spurt of joy at seeing her seated at the table near the front of my mind again, no longer concerned about whether or not Brude was going to swing by and chop off her head. As if to celebrate the occasion, she’d chosen some real winners to play cards with too. Winston Churchil and Woody Woodpecker were partnered against her and Amelia Earhart. It was shaping up to be a hel uva game.

“Jaz? Are you stil there?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, what’d I miss?”

“I was just wondering why you think he’s different now.”

“He’s kind of… living in the past. I real y lo—like him.

But this is starting to get to me. What if, you know, what if he never—”

“Everybody changes, Jaz. Every day. Al the time. How important is this relationship to you?”

I cleared my throat. “It’s up there.”

“Wel , I’d tel you to be patient, but I’m not sure you ever learned that one.” We both laughed. “In which case, just don’t kick his ass so hard you put him in the hospital, okay?”

I visualized me attempting to do just that. It ended up with me on the ground. Bleeding. “I can pretty much guarantee that’s not gonna happen.”

“Wel , I hope you hang in there with this guy, then. He’s the first one you’ve told me about since Matt. And I have to think that’s a good thing. Real y, real y good.” I heard the hope in her voice and felt warmed that it was al for me. I knew some people had crowds of relatives cheering them on al through their lives. I had two. Maybe three, but I stil hadn’t decided about Albert. Which was when Evie said,

“Dad cal ed today.”

“Yeah?”

“Now that you’ve told me about your new boyfriend, I think I understand why.”

“Real y.”

She paused. “Um, he wanted to know, theoretical y speaking, how I’d have reacted if he had forbidden me from marrying Tim. So, of course, I asked him what was wrong with Tim, and he said nothing, it wasn’t about him. It was you. Which must mean he’s met this guy you’re dating. And he disapproves.”

I thought back to our mission in Scotland, the one he’d dropped in on unexpectedly. Though we’d tried to hide Vayl’s true identity, we couldn’t have fooled Albert during that last battle, when he’d caused sleet to fal from a clear sky and blown a hole the size of an elevator in the side of a burial cairn. So the old fart didn’t like it that I’d hooked up with a vampire. I’d worried about the ramifications of that for a while. But the fact that he’d cal ed Evie first? I felt a smile slide onto my face. “Cool.”

“Yeah, I figured that would make you happy. You can have the rest of your present when you get back home.

Party at my house next weekend. Be there.”

“Okay.”
I hope.
“Love you.”

“Same here. Buy me something extravagant while you’re in Morocco.”

“It’s
my
frigging birthday!”

“Okay, buy yourself something too.”

She was stil laughing when we hung up.

I’d heard from Dave earlier in the day, a short text reminding me that although I’d been born a few minutes before him, he was stil bigger and therefore deserved more gifts. Also Cassandra had confessed that she’d let their engagement news slip, and because he knew I’d bul ied the information from her, I owed them dinner. That he’d left Kyphas out of the message meant Cassandra stil hadn’t told him the rest of the story—that the demon had come after her because the holy contract she and Dave had entered nul ified al the protections she’d used to successful y duck their deal for over five hundred years. At least he knew about that. But
she
should know that any guy who’l marry somebody who once traded her soul for the death of the slaver who raped her wil also rol with the fol ow-up punches.

I wondered if Albert would approve of her if he knew what she’d done. And then I decided it didn’t matter, because
I
sure as hel wasn’t going to tel him. And if he was pissed at
me
, that meant he wouldn’t cal at al , so I’d never even have the chance. It also meant I could leave the cool, dark corner of the gazebo and rejoin my crew in the lounge.

The room was dominated by a brown wicker couch upholstered with the same dark green palm-dotted material as Kyphas’s chair. In front of it sat matching square coffee tables that usual y held vases of fresh roses. Fat forest-green floor pil ows sat at their bases. Overlooking the whole scene was a painting of kestrels, six of them flying in a background so black it reminded me of the maw of a ravenous monster.

The painting looked less ominous when Cole joined Bergman and Monique beneath it, wiggling his butt between theirs, his easy grin making even Bergman’s shoulders relax enough that I was fairly certain the blades weren’t meeting at his spine anymore. He stil kept picking nervously at his jeans, a new pair without the rips or bleach stains that made him happiest. He’d stepped even farther out of his comfort zone by changing from his typical pul over to a shirt in gray and white plaid with only one missing button near the tuck, which Monique probably thought was cute. Maybe she even liked the pocket protector, which contained a pen in each color, a tire gauge, and a calculator that folded to the size of a paper clip.

But she might as wel give up hoping that he wasn’t so distracted by his dress-up clothes that he’d notice her wardrobe change. Instead of the white dress with lavender flowers she’d worn al day, she’d chosen a low-cut strappy number with an ivory background covered in amber vines.

Faceted amber gems surrounded by black beads dangled from her ears, and the same gems sparkled along the straps of her sandals. The whole outfit complemented her smooth skin and silky black hair, which Kyphas seemed more interested in than Bergman. Probably because Cole had just taken the time to tel her how pretty she looked before nudging Bergman, hard, with his elbow.