"Vayl?"
"Something is wrong with my blood supply."
"What do you mean?"
Vayl jumped up and started pacing. "The blood I brought to sustain me. It is tainted." I felt the familiar bewilderment that used to fog my brain when my math teacher handed me a word problem. How was I supposed to know which train would reach Dallas first?
"How could you tell?" I asked.
Vayl grabbed one of the decorative pillows off the couch and began picking at one corner of it. I'd never seen him so shaken, and it was starting to scare me.
"Look, Vayl, just tell me what you know."
Vayl sat down again, avoiding my gaze, watching his fingers worry at the pillow instead. "When I went to get a drink I realized something was wrong. That is, once the blood had warmed, I could smell something in it that should not have been there. Something my nose tells me will make me ill."
"Did you check all the bags?"
"Yes. They are all tainted."
"Did you keep some? We should get it tested."
"Yes."
This is bad, bad, bad—"Vayl, are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
"Of course. After last night how could I think otherwise? But polluted blood would not kill me, it would only make me sick."
"Sick, like out of commission? Sick as in vulnerable?"
"Very possibly."
"Then maybe this is just a prelude to another attack." I waited for Vayl to agree, but he just shrugged. The pillow in his hands began to come apart. I was beginning to identify with it, big-time. Okay, Jaz, keep it together. You are a trained pro. Eventually you will find the ass that needs kicking and that's exactly what you'll do. As long as you keep it together.
"So let's figure out who's doing this," I said, more to myself than Vayl. "I don't think it could've been Pete. He was too ready to agree with our suggestions."
"That still leaves several highly trusted suspects." He shook his head. "We have been betrayed." He sounded like he'd already had some bitter experience in that area. "Worse, we have already established that Assan and Aidyn prefer to be led, which means our betrayer is also, most likely, the architect of their entire project."
"We have a very nasty problem, Vayl."
"Two, actually."
"Yeah?"
Vayl sank back down onto the couch, looking bleak as a cancer patient. "Not only is someone trying to kill me, but now I have to find a supply of fresh blood."
I knew that as we sat there staring at each other we were sharing the same thoughts. Neither of us wanted to say them out loud, but it had to be done. I started.
"So, what are our options?"
"Limited." Vayl drew in a deep breath, clasped his hands together convulsively. I'd never seen him so agitated. "I cannot hunt. I… made a vow." He looked at me out of the corner of his eyes. "I know that must sound stupid and old-fashioned to you—"
"Not at all. Of course hunting is out. We're the good guys."
Vayl's lips twitched.
"Okay," I amended, "we're walking that thin line between good and bad, but we're not kidnapping kids or blowing up federal buildings so I say, if we're erring, it's on the side of good."
"Which is why we cannot raid a blood bank or anything similar to that."
"I agree." Weren't we just two reasonable people? It's what we spooks do when the alternative is blind panic. "So what can you do?"
"Find a willing donor. Vampires tend to attract them. I know of two in the area I might approach."
Whoa, buddy. Where did you go when I wasn't looking? "You've… made some contacts? Recently?"
If Vayl had any blood in him, he would've blushed. He avoided meeting my eyes, and he started to fidget like I'd just caught him slipping a frog into the teacher's desk. "I, well, yes." He straightened up and looked me in the eye, realizing, maybe, that he didn't have to answer to anyone, me the least. "I cannot discuss it right now." His look softened. Did I really seem that hurt? "I will tell you later, when we have time."
"You want to save it for the plane ride back?"
He nodded, the corner of his mouth lifting. "Yes. I will tell you everything you want to know then."
Maybe. I wanted to know an awful lot after all. But I wasn't completely ignorant, at least about vampires in general. Not so long ago I'd been considered something of an expert. Which was why I'd been so good at killing them, why I'd headed my own team. I did know that the act of taking blood from a human donor, willing or not, involved all of a vampire's senses. Like giraffes leaning down for a drink of river water, vampires were at their most vulnerable when taking blood. Both loyal and captive vamps had described it as 'heady,' 'intoxicating,' and yeah, 'better than sex.'
Whoever had sent the bad blood must know what I knew, that by creating a need for a human donor they'd also produced an ideal situation for assassination. Thing was, I couldn't see me standing guard outside some locked door while God knows what went down inside. For all we knew these willing donors of Vayl's were part of the master plan too. That was logical me speaking. Stupid, stubborn, bizarre me couldn't stand the thought of Vayl sharing that sort of intimacy with another person. I guess I was a flake after all. Didn't need him, no. But wanted him bad enough I was about to do the unthinkable. It should've been more of a consolation to know Pete would've approved.
I stood and began to pace. "Vayl, Pete outlined my job pretty clearly to me. My highest priority is to protect you when you're vulnerable."
"During a takeout—"
"No. Always."
Vayl stood, blocking my path, making me stop and look at him. "I know where you are going with this. I will not. I cannot—"
"Why not?"
Vayl looked at me a long time, his jaw clenching and unclenching as if the words he was about to say needed to be chewed first, ground under his molars until the sharp edges wore away.
"Jasmine…" he stopped, thought a minute, tried again. "I do not know what it would do to us. You would be stepping onto a path that could lead you to vampirism."
"Not if you don't drain me. Not if I don't drink your blood."
"You are right. But because you are a Sensitive you could, you probably would change." I must've looked puzzled because he kept trying to explain. "The kind of—joining—you are suggesting is not one-way."
"So, what are you saying, that there's magic in your backwash?"
The tightness around Vayl's eyes eased a little, and a dimple appeared in his right cheek. "You could say that."
"What might happen to me?"
Vayl sank back onto his couch and I sat beside him. "I have never done such a thing with a Sensitive, so it is impossible to predict." He took my right hand between both of his, lacing our fingers together, rubbing my empty ring finger with his thumb as he stared at the memories he'd projected onto the wall.
"Could you make it so I can fly?" I asked.
That got his attention. "What?"
I felt a little self-conscious, but figured the time to guard my ego had long passed. "I've always wanted to fly," I confided, "like Superman, only without the ridiculous costume."
"It is not…"
"Or how about superhuman strength so when I throw people they sail clear across the room?"
I suddenly understood what the word 'flummoxed' meant. I'd never really known before this moment, when Vayl's eyes went all round and confused, and the only thing he could say that sounded remotely like English was, "Wa." It didn't last long. Vayl snapped back to himself and grabbed me by the shoulders.
"This is serious!" His eyes bored into mine, twin obsidian pebbles that looked ready to bury me under a great big avalanche. It ticked me off. Here I was, offering the guy his life, basically, and all he could do was threaten me with metaphorical boulders! "You have no idea, Jasmine. The two of us will mix at a very basic level. I cannot predict the outcome. You cannot know the risk!"