"You're right, she came for the ring," I told him. "She demanded it from me."
"What did you do?"
"I shot her. Then I pushed her off the roof."
He smiled. Not the twitchy twitch but a genuine, full-face smile. "You must have really wanted that ring."
I put my hands on his chest, because he still held me by the arms and, frankly, because I suspected there might be hyperventilating in my not too distant future and I needed a strong base to lean on. I looked into his remarkable eyes, just now a warm, honey-gold with flecks of amber, and I nodded.
"To be honest, I did want it. I do. I'm… I can't explain how honored I am to be wearing it. But, also to be honest, the whole deal terrifies me."
"Because…"
I took a long look at the stitching on his collar, the urge to cower my way out of this conversation damn near primal. He and I had been tiptoeing around the subject so long I suspected if I made us face it squarely, one of us would be required to cut and run. A perfectly acceptable reaction if you had a place to retreat to. Neither of us did.
"I've only been your assistant, your avhar, for awhile," I finally said, avoiding his gaze, "and I can't imagine any other kind of life. When you gave me this ring… when I gave you my blood… it's… we've gone beyond that. We're trusting the safety of our souls to each other."
He raised my chin with a gentle finger and I winced as our eyes met. The look we shared pained me in its naked honesty.
"You are my avhar. I am your sverhamin. The intensity of that relationship has taken us beyond the bonds between co-workers or teammates. Some would call that love."
I winced again.
"But you would not have it so." He squeezed my arms, put one of his arms around my back. "It is no secret. You have experienced the heaven and hell of love."
"But, see, the hell came last, so that's still the memory, the feeling, that lingers. For a long time I tried to come up with some way to explain how I felt because Evie kept pushing me to put it into words. She thought, somehow, that would make it all better. But I couldn't tell her I felt like I should be bleeding from every pore. I couldn't tell her I felt like I'd been flayed alive, that when I looked in the mirror every morning I couldn't believe my hair hadn't turned white overnight. It just wasn't close enough to the truth. So I didn't say anything at all."
"I understand." He whispered it into my hair. And I believed him.
"There's only so much a person can go through, Vayl."
He pulled me closer. "There is only so much a person can go through alone. But I am not asking you to do anything you cannot bear. I have eternity, Jasmine. I can wait until your feelings are no longer fractured."
"It may be awhile. My feelings for you… it's hard to be okay with them when my love for Matt is still fresh in my memory, still strong in my heart."
If my statement had hurt him, he didn't show it. He said, "My father used to say that true love never dies. It simply makes your heart big enough to hold even more love."
"So… I can keep the ring?"
"Yes."
Chapter Twelve
I drove Vayl back to the Pink Palace, leaving the room cleaning chores to the experts. The Agency employs a whole fleet of them for obvious reasons. We made it inside with barely 20 minutes to spare before dawn.
"You look exhausted," Vayl said as he eased my jacket off my shoulders and hung it over a chair. I had something intelligent to say about that, but then he started rubbing the back of my neck and all I could say was, "Oh."
"I know I should let you sleep, but I am so relieved Liliana did not kill you, I cannot take my eyes off of you."
"You're relieved! When she caught me trying to make my getaway I thought I was toast."
"And that young man I took to the hospital. His blood smelled so wrong, I was afraid just being close to him had damaged you permanently."
"Yeah, what the hell do you think is up with him?"
"I have no—"
My phone began to ring. This close to dawn it couldn't be good news and I hated to answer it. But Vayl retrieved it from my jacket and tossed it to me.
"Yeah?" I barked.
"It's Bergman. I'm in Florida, but I've gotta sleep. Do you need me tonight or can I meet you tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow's good."
"Where do I look for you?"
"Hang on." I covered the mouthpiece. "It's Bergman," I told Vayl. "Do you know of a good place he and I can meet tomorrow?"
He thought a moment, then his eyes lit. "Actually, I do." He gave me the address and I passed it on to Bergman, along with an agreeable time. When we hung up I said, "So where are we meeting?"
Vayl looked vaguely embarrassed, like I'd just caught him and his pals plotting to stroll on over to the Silver Saddle, where girls dance mostly naked and all the drinks taste like sour lemonade.
"Vayl?"
"The place is called Cassandra's Pure and Natural, after the woman who runs it. It is a small health food store."
"Nice front," I drawled, getting more and more annoyed at Vayl's hesitation. Hadn't we just had a major moment? What the hell was he hiding? "And if you pay Cassandra a little extra?" I asked.
"She will take you upstairs and give you a reading."
"A… what?"
"She is psychic. She will touch your hand or read your tea leaves or deal your tarot. Whatever you like."
I slumped onto a couch and started to mutter. "Unbelievable. After what just happened between us… no, I don't have any right. None at all. We're barely a couple. We're not even sleeping together. I have to—"
"What in God's name are you babbling about?"
I jumped to my feet. "You're cheating on me!"
Vayl's eyes went black. He looked like a drill sergeant about to demand pushups. "I—never—cheat," he said slowly and distinctly, so even we neurotic idiots could understand.
"Then what's with the attitude?"
"What about your attitude?"
I slapped myself in the forehead. "Okay, fine. We all know I am crappy at relationships. Whatever is happening between you and me makes me feel like I'm surfing in shark infested waters. So, yeah, I am overly sensitive at the moment, even paranoid. But you're acting Shifty!"
Vayl sat across from me. "All right," he murmured, "if you will know it all, then I will tell you." He looked at me balefully. "Though I think you ask too much, you are my avhar."
"There is a theory," he began, "one I hold dear, that says nothing can truly be destroyed. Everything that was ever present will always be present in some form. That is as true of souls as it is of water and wood." He cleared his throat. If he'd been wearing a tie he'd have loosened it. "I believe my sons exist somewhere today as they did in 1751. I believe they live, physically, somewhere in this world and so, wherever I go I find a Seer, in the hope that I will be directed closer to them. In the hope that I will see them again."
"You're saying… you think they've been reincarnated?"
He nodded. "I have been told we will be reunited in America. It is why I came here."
"What… what do you," I paused. How to ask this without causing more pain? "So you want to meet them? Make friends? Be… a father to them?"
"I am their father!" he snapped. "That is the one, incontrovertible truth of my existence."
I shut my mouth. Then I opened it again, but only to say, "Cassandra's is fine."
He stood up. "Ask her about the signs they found on Amanda Assan's brother's body. She studies ancient languages the way you shuffle cards." As in, obsessively. "It may take her some time, but she will not stop until she finds a translation."
"Okay."
"Dawn is coming."
"Yes."
He shoved his hands in his pockets. At the moment there couldn't have been a bigger gap yawning between us if we'd been standing on opposite sides of the Pacific. I was sorry for it. And grateful. "Well," he said, "good night."