Blas laughed softly. “And the second?” he asked, the eager note in his voice making me wonder how long it had been since he’d spoken to anyone. Did he spend all his waking hours in this coffin of a room?
“He says: ‘Great, now I have to pee. Maybe I shouldn’t have drunk that eighth cup of coffee. Plus, I’ve got the caffeine jitters. Do you think anyone would notice if I wrote my name in the snow and then break-danced around it?’”
Blas let out a delighted sigh. “Your friend sounds amusing.”
“Yeah.”
“You sound wistful.”
“He’s been a better pal to me than I’ve been to him. I miss him. Especially now when—” when everything is falling apart.
I’ll admit it. For about three seconds I considered staking out the corner of the closet Blas hadn’t laid claim to. I wouldn’t take up much room curled into the fetal position. The rocking and sobbing might irritate him some, but it would pass in a few hours. After which we’d probably get along fine. I’d pace the length of the closet, bouncing off the walls every third step like a Roomba doing the vacuum tango. He’d enjoy all the stories I’d tell of my exploits. Yeah, that’s what we’d call them. Exploits. But then, eventually, he’d get hungry and sink his fangs into me. At which point I’d have to smoke him. You know what? Never mind.
“Why do you miss him particularly now?” Blas asked.
“Because, despite his feelings, he’d help me find the third alternative I’m looking for,” I answered. “Then he’d say or do something that I’d find absolutely hilarious.” I sighed. “But at the same time, I’d be wishing he was far, far away from me.” Blas tipped his head sideways, as if he didn’t quite understand where I was going. Which he wasn’t supposed to. “Never mind,” I said. “I’ve gotta get back.” I couldn’t tell him that Cirilai had begun sending me signals. Ones that made me think I should save the evidence search for a time when I actually had a clue how to get past the death-spell locking Hamon’s door. Right now I needed to hustle my ass back to Vayl’s side before the ring burned off my finger. Dammit. “I’ll be here for the negotiations with Samos and then I’m leaving. If you’re interested in that plastic surgery option, let me know. I’ll make sure you’re on the plane with me when I go. Deal?”
“Deal.”
Chapter Thirteen
Vayl and Dave sat beside the fountain, staring at the rust-colored water as it flowed down the statue’s perfect breasts. I guess it said something about their states of mind that their eyes were on the H2O rather than the knockers, but my own was so fouled I hardly noticed.
The silence in the room ran so deep that when I closed the door it sounded like I’d just pulled up a drawbridge. I leaned my back against it, not wanting to enter any farther than necessary, making sure I had a clear means of escape if I needed one in the near future.
Finally Vayl looked up at me and said, “Have you gone stark raving mad? If I had not done some extremely fast talking, your ridiculous stunt would have ruined our entire mission! What were you thinking? Have you no self-control?”
I glanced at Dave, who had the sense to respond to my dawning anger with an expression of absolute neutrality. I sent my gaze back to Vayl, feeling the blood begin to pound in my head as I found myself spotlighted by his accusing gaze. Part of me noted that his eyes had remained brown throughout. When he’s mad they usually go black. Sometimes they even get little red sparks, like laser sights that all point straight to that spot between my eyes.
I said, “I had a talk with Niall. He told me you ripped Disa. And that she bound you. For fifty years.”
He at least had the grace to wince when I said the word “ripped.” “I had every intention of telling you. But I supposed she was dead, and that gave me the chance to reveal it to you at a time of my choosing. Once we got here, everything moved so quickly—”
“Yeah, about that. You’re a big, strong vampire. How is it that the little tramp cornered you? Or is it that you wanted to be bound? Couldn’t wait to be rid of the loud-mouthed American with all the hang-ups so you could snuggle with your old honey, could you?” I glared at him, the fury crushing my brain, making it hard to think straight. This isn’t right! cried Granny May, clutching the arms of her chair. Stop and look at what’s happening to you! But I was sick of listening to the old bat. Since when had she uttered a word that had helped me?
He jerked to his feet. “That must have been it,” he sneered. “Seeing Disa brought back so many fond memories that I could not wait to be shed of you. At least now I can acquaint myself with someone who considers the consequences before she acts.” His voice was hard and sharp as the sword he always carried. Which I didn’t see right now, but that hardly mattered. I could still feel myself bleeding inside.
I yanked Cirilai off my hand, ignoring the wrenching pain that nearly doubled me over when I lost the connection it gave me to Vayl. “Here!” I slammed it down onto the seat of the nearest chair. I looked into his eyes, still the warm brown typical of his most relaxed state, and wanted to slug him. He’d drawn his lips past his fangs. I’d never seen the expression on his face, so I didn’t recognize the emotions behind it. But I really didn’t give a shit. It was like the rage had rolled me up in an icy ball and we were tearing down some snowcapped peak, gathering speed and momentum, trampling everything in our path.
I said, “I felt so bad about what I did, I was going to quit my job. Can you believe that? I was actually going to throw away the career that saved my freaking sanity! But now I see the real problem is you and me, Vampire. I’ll finish this mission, because I’m a pro. But as soon as we hit Ohio, you can find yourself somebody who doesn’t care that all you really want is a puppet to jerk around at the end of that ring!”
I was about to make my grand exit, spin on my heel, stomp to the bedroom, slam the door so hard that the nightmare picture fell right off the wall, when we heard the shriek of a smoke alarm. Moments later Sibley burst through the hallway door. “Everybody out!” she ordered. “The villa is on fire!”
We’d returned to our suite within thirty minutes. Apparently part drama queen, Sibley had evacuated us without real cause, since the three fires that had erupted on different parts of the property never truly threatened us. The mystery was what had started them in the first place. One had begun in the garage, another in the dining room, and the third in the wagon house. All three had been caught by detectors in the ceilings and walls and quickly extinguished.
Dave was fascinated by the possibilities. He paced the length of the sitting room, throwing out ideas, while Vayl occupied the edge of the table. I stood by the bedroom door, wishing I had anything better to do. What I felt was the distance between Vayl and me, a universe squeezed into twenty feet of air space. Cirilai now hung from the chain around his neck, where he’d worn it for centuries before giving it to me. I ignored the ache that thought caused and forced myself to focus on my twin.
“Maybe it’s the werebear’s people, taking their revenge on the Trust for what they did to him.”
“I don’t think so,” I said. “He promised me he wouldn’t do anything until after we wrapped up our mission.”