"And?"
"Gorgeous women make me nervous."
"As in—they can't be trusted?" His silence made his opinion clear.
"Are you going to make a pass at her or something?"
"God, no!"
"Then relax. The worst thing that can happen is she'll jump your bones and you'll get so wild you break the lab equipment. So stay away from the kitchen and you'll be fine."
He huffed in the phone, but I could hear the laugh he was trying to hold off. "Okay, then," he said. "You'll call?"
"Call or come knocking."
"Good enough." We broke the connection. Albert was next on my call list. He answered on the first ring.
"Dad?"
"Jaz? Hang on." The background blare of Albert's t.v. muted. I heard more clicks as he transferred to his safe phone. "Okay, I'm here."
"I know it hasn't been long but—"
"I've got a lead."
"Yeah?" I guess I sounded, well, shocked, because he said, "Hey, I may be a feeble old Marine, but I still got connections."
"And?"
"There's something funny about Tom Bozcowski."
"The retired football player?"
"Right. He's had an unnaturally large turnover in interns. Seems they keep getting sick."
"With what?"
"Anemia."
"That is interesting. Has the name Mohammed Khad Abn-Assan come up in relation to the senator? Or maybe Aidyn Strait?"
"Hang on, that first name sounds familiar."
He started to mumble to himself, not so you could understand him, and I heard the sound of papers shuffling. "Yeah, here it is. I asked my contact for anything unusual, and he included this little item with the other stuff. Says here Bozcowski had plastic surgery done by Assan right before he ran for senator five years ago."
"Thanks. Keep digging, will you?"
"Sure thing."
"Oh, would you find out if any of the senators owns a pool? And look for connections to technology purchasing for the Agency." I described the faulty beacon without saying how I'd carried it. No point in starting a fight I didn't have time to finish.
"Yup. Uh, Jaz?"
"Yeah?"
"Are you eating right? Getting plenty of fruits and vegetables and all that stuff? I'm just asking because Shelby's been lecturing me on nutrition. You'd be surprised what good food'll do for you."
"Don't worry," I said, both exasperated that it took this long for the blockhead to figure out maybe he should eat well, and warmed by the fact that he gave a crap about my health, "I'm eating fine." So's my vampire friend, but we won't get into that. No sense in flirting with a strode at your age, Albert. "Why don't you call Evie? She definitely needs a good lecture on nutrition."
"Maybe I will."
I hung up. Vayl glanced over at me and both his eyebrows went straight up.
"What is the source of your evil grin?" he inquired.
"I sicced Albert on Evie."
"I thought you loved your sister."
"I do. She'll worry less when she hears from him, and that's good for the baby. So's eating right, which is all he'll probably talk about."
"I see. Is that the only reason you are smiling?"
"I think we found our leak."
Chapter Twenty-One
Club Undead waved its tacky tombstones at us as we drove slowly by. A new bouncer watched the front, where only the loveliest and palest of partiers lined up for their chance to touch immortality. Beside the bouncer stood a sign on an easel that hadn't been there before. A mix of words traced in neon colors spelled out the message Welcome to Jazz Night, only the colors were arranged so that the words "Welcome Jaz" stood out in glowing yellow relief against the black of the board. An arrow drawn in the same glowing yellow pointed straight up.
"Do you see it?" I asked, leaning past Vayl to get a better view. "I do."
"Do you think Cole's in there surrounded by goons who're just waiting to shoot me?"
"I would say that is the most likely scenario."
Even with the heater on and my jacket buttoned, I felt chilled. But my fear factor didn't matter. Cole needed me. "Let me off at the corner, okay?"
"What are you going to do?"
"Smoke out the innocents downstairs, then meet you upstairs. I think that's his most likely location. Remember, they believe you're dead. Use it to your advantage."
"I always do." He pulled up to the curb; I got out and waved him off. He'd park in the alley and make his way to the club's upper story from there. I unbuttoned my jacket, walked to the line in front of the club, wiggled my butt right up to the new bouncer and gave him a smile so sweet, if they put me on t.v. I could've sold chocolate covered cherries to an audience of diabetics.
Okay, Amanda, wherever you are… this one's for you.
"Do you know what I smell?" I asked the bouncer.
"Nope." He looked interested though.
"I smell freshly turned vamp." I reached into the special pocket reserved for Grief and it came to my hand smooth and deadly as a cobra strike. A flick of the magic button, and two seconds later all that remained of the bouncer was a puff of smoke rising from a tiny rain of debris.
The girls at the front of the line screamed and shoved their way to the street. A few others went with them. Somebody yelled, "Gun!" an understandable mistake considering the crappy lighting, and a mini-stampede ensued during which I let myself into Club Undead. It stood empty—dark and silent as a freshly dug grave. Creepy.
"Vayl," I whispered, "nobody's here."
"Not even a mouse?"
"Hardy har. Where are you?"
"Approaching the fire escape. But there is time, if you wish to abort this plan."
"No, no, let's keep going. I'm taking the spiral staircase now." I crept up each step, expecting to hear the thunderous roar of gunfire despite the fact that my newly amplified senses told me the second floor was empty as the first. The silence held. So did my nerves, but just barely. If some joker jumped out of the shadows and yelled Boo! I'd blow his head off without even thinking.
The cavernous room's only light emanated from the red and white exit sign stationed above a dark door on the back wall. I walked past the dance floor and a steady succession of tables dressed in white cloths. Each held a black vase with a black rose in it. Matching black candles flanked the roses, each held by expensive looking crystal.
I eyed the door. No telling what lay behind it, and any surprises promised to be nasty. I looked around, hoping to find another way up. What I saw suspended from the ceiling reminded me of a university theater. Lights tilted at every possible angle covered the entire expanse, except for the section taken up by the catwalk. It started at a glass-walled booth, perched nearly ten feet above my current position, and wandered across the ceiling in a pattern that allowed access to all the lights. A black metal ladder, nearly invisible against the darker black wall, allowed access from my level. I told Vayl what I'd found.
"I'm going to check it out," I said. "Maybe the booth has a back door."
"Good idea. I am headed up to the third level now. Looks like the windows are boarded up, so you will have to be my eyes."
"Okay."
I climbed the ladder, which hugged the wall from floor to ceiling, intersecting the catwalk on its way. From there just a couple of steps took me to the door of the overlook. It was open.
I kept expecting a gang of goons to jump out from behind a curtain and start shooting. "But nobody's here," I whispered. "What are they planning?" I stepped into the booth. To my left, a bank of unlit controls stretched from one edge of the window to the next. Two black chairs on rollers parked in front of it. The only other contents of the room were an empty trashcan and a full ashtray. There was, however, another door. I eased it open, expecting a sound, a click maybe, that would signal the closing of a trap. I need not have bothered. The trap Aidyn and Assan had set for me was too big for a click. A gong, maybe, but not a click.