A Taste of Love and Evil (24 page)

Jack took up the rear. He had to fix this, but how?

Inside, Rose curled up on one of the chairs, shivering. Jabez remained cool as before, but Biff was sitting upright now, eyes wide, clearly in pain and terrified.

“I’m sorry.” Rose didn’t look angry; anguished, rather. “I lost control.”

“Damn it,” Constantine remarked. “I was about to scare the shit out of Biff, and you’ve already done it, Rose.”

“I didn’t mean to!” Her distress cut Jack to the heart. “I was about to tend the cut on his head when the phone
chimed…” She clamped her teeth together and glanced fleetingly at Jack. A muscle fluttered by her lip. “If I talk about it, I’ll explode again. Is your guitar broken? I’ll replace it.”

“The guitar’s fine. You need to try Vi’s water therapy,” Constantine suggested, removing the broken strings one by one.

“I wanted to
kill
her,” Rose continued. “I keep thinking I have my temper licked, but I’m getting worse.” Again she gave a brief, unhappy glance at Jack.

He stared.
She wanted to kill Titania? Not me?

“Don’t take it so hard,” Constantine said. “You controlled your allure till you got outdoors, so all you did was break a few strings. You should have seen Vi’s sister Ophelia until this spring when she finally got hitched. She lost I don’t know how many flowerpots to her temper.” He wore that inscrutable tender look Jack had seen him give the vamp in question that morning. “All you need is guidance. You and Zelda can have lessons together. Vi pretends to lose it, but she’s got allure control down to a science.” The musician grinned. “Jabez, make her a cappuccino. Lots of chocolate and whipped cream.” The bodyguard gave a deep, friendly laugh and went to the espresso machine.

Shakily, Rose stood. “I’d better tend to Biff’s head.”

“Leave that,” Constantine said. “Violet and Zelda got a tad annoyed when he took the dress. The only weapons at hand were all those flowerpots on the porch. Biff’s new Ferrari got bashed up even worse than his head.”

Biff essayed a glare at Constantine, winced, and shut his eyes.

“Time to talk,” the rocker commanded. “Vamp spit only deadens pain for a bit, so you’d better be quick. Who tore you open?”

Biff didn’t open his eyes. “Titania.”

Constantine nodded. “Figures.”

“What do you mean?” Rose asked.

Constantine indicated an old scar, ragged but almost invisible, on his forearm. Then Biff’s shoulder. “Looks like a vamp wound.”

“He just stole my gown for her. Why would she attack him?”

Rose wrapped her arms around herself, shivering. Jack couldn’t stand it anymore. He shucked his jacket and put it around her shoulders. Astonishingly, she accepted the offering. Nor did she shrink away when he perched on the arm of her chair. It made no sense at all.

Perhaps he could assuage one of her anxieties. “Was there a man with Titania, someone she brought from Chicago?”

“Old dude?” Biff asked.

“Yes!” Rose said. “Is he still alive?”

“Last I saw. Gino was babysitting him at my place. I don’t think he was planning to kill him, but you never know with Gino.”

Rose closed her eyes and leaned into Jack.

“Gino is real bad news,” Biff said, adding hopefully, “Somebody needs to take him out.”

Constantine broke in. “Let’s have it from the start. Beginning yesterday, when you shot
my friend
Tallis.”

Biff went paler, if that was possible. “If I’d known Tallis was a friend of yours, I wouldn’t have done it. I’m not
that
stupid.”

By the look on Constantine’s face, Biff would find out later exactly how stupid he was.

“I screwed up right from the start. I shouldn’t have called that dickhead Stevie to steal Tallis’s Jeep, but he was nearby, so why wouldn’t I use him? I shouldn’t have had him drive the car so I could get a good shot, but how was I to know he would swerve at the last moment? I should have taken the dress while I had the chance, instead of helping Stevie find the mouthy teenager he’d lost. Except I didn’t know about the dress, because Titania didn’t tell me that was why she
wanted Violet’s place bugged, and the information I overheard Violet give Tallis didn’t match the heap Rose was driving.” He pouted like a kid. “I can’t believe two amateurs got the better of me. I should have guessed Rose was helping Tallis. I should have known she couldn’t fight Stevie off all by her lonesome. I should have figured she had Tallis waiting to take me down. If I’d got the dress yesterday, Titania would have been grateful.”

Jack snorted, and Constantine looked even more saturnine than usual.

“Okay, maybe not grateful, but she would have fucked me good. Instead she’s doing Stevie, her brand-new errand boy.”

“Why did she attack you?” asked Constantine.

“She’s off her frigging rocker. How was I supposed to know she changed her mind about the dress? Rose brought the dress to Violet, so Titania’s pissed. She had her little plan to get it back, and I screwed it up. She wanted Rose to take the dress from Violet and grovel to save the old dude. That way, she’d get back at Violet
and
get to make Rose beg.”

“And then kill her?” Jack prompted. Rose quivered under his hand but said nothing.

Biff nodded unhappily. “She calls me this morning, says to let her know if Rose shows up at Violet’s place. Says Rose stole the dress for Violet, but it’s really hers. Fine, but Tony Karaplis is at Vi’s, and I’m not about to confront him. He’s a vampire
and
a friend of yours.” He looked imploringly at Constantine, but got no response.

“So, I go to Blood and Velvet first to get rid of the bug. How was I supposed to know Karaplis would show up there, too? Not to mention Tallis coming at me out of nowhere. So I sit tight for a while and go back to Vi’s for the dress, figuring Dufray will back me up if Vi’s been thieving. I get dinged up by Vi and her little girl, and I figure Titania will be even more grateful. Wounded soldier, you know.” He scowled. “Fuckup from square one. Turns out it’s really Violet’s dress,
Titania’s the thief, and I’m a dumbass.” Biff paused, but no one piped up to disagree.

“Meantime, she’s taken over my apartment to mess around with Stevie. Says he’s her long-lost honey and she can’t get enough of him. So I wait. And I wait. She finishes him off and sends him away, all kissy-kissy, and invites me into my own damn bedroom to take a turn. Says she’s gonna be queen of the whole damn town. Never gonna happen, but I’m not about to argue with a crazy woman.” Constantine and Jack exchanged glances as Biff kept talking. “I give her the dress, and she pitches a hissy fit. Orders me—and I don’t take orders from chicks, vampires or not—to kidnap Rose and make her watch while she drains the old guy dry.”

“Oh, my God,” Rose whispered.

Jack squeezed her shoulder, and Biff grimaced helplessly at Jack. “You know Titania. Bloats herself on blood. Pretends she’s more like a vampire from some stupid book.”

“What else?” Constantine prompted.

“Let me guess,” Jack said. “As a reward, you’d get to torture Rose while Titania watched.”

Biff cringed. “Listen, man, I—”

“And maybe rape her, too, before Titania—or Gino—finished her off?”

Biff let out a ghastly whimper. He turned beseechingly to Rose, who now looked positively ill. “He’s trying to make me seem worse than I am. You know I wouldn’t do that to you.”

She straightened. “Of course you wouldn’t. Why the hell did you get involved with her, anyway?” She glared at Jack. “The same goes for you.” Fortunately, her question was rhetorical.

“Lucky she doesn’t know you’re a vamp, or she’d think up something worse.” Biff paused, contemplating. “If that’s possible. I told her, no way, it’s against the underworld rules.” He blenched. “I got principles, though it’s no use telling her
I don’t hold with torture. And I
am
keeping an eye on the clubs, just like you said, Dufray. I got sidetracked is all.”

Jack’s eyes met Constantine’s. The rocker said, “The mess she made of your shoulder looks like more than a hissy fit.”

Biff slumped. “That weasel Stevie ratted me out about shooting you. I guess she was saving that bit of revenge for after the torture scenario was over, but when I nixed the idea, she lost it.”

Jabez brought the cappuccino over to Rose, who took it gratefully.

Constantine wasn’t done with Biff yet. “You didn’t mean to damage Vi’s house, and you don’t approve of torture, but you’d shoot my friend Tallis in cold blood.”

Silence. Biff finally muttered, “That was different.”

“In what way?”

After a long, long pause, Biff let out his breath. “All right, all right. I shot Tallis because I was sick of Titania yapping about him. Iachimo this, Iachimo that, I
need
to have him back, I’ll fucking
die
without him.”

Die without him?
Rose snickered at the image of a vulnerable and desperate Titania. Jabez seemed to think it was funny, too. Hardly a flicker crossed Constantine’s face.

Jack blew out a breath. “Jesus.”

“Maybe she regretted dumping him, but Titania didn’t have to turn him into a freaking Romeo,” Biff continued. To Jack, he added, “Nothing against you personally, man.”

Constantine left his post at the wall to look out the broken
window. A helicopter whap-whapped overhead; more media knew where he had holed up.

Rose took another lick of foam and a sip of the dark-roasted coffee underneath, trying her best not to worry about Miles. She watched Jack trade another of those indecipherable glances with Constantine. What were they planning? Something was going on behind her back right in front of her.

The rocker spoke to Jabez. “Priority is finding the old dude.” Then he picked up his guitar, slung the strap around his neck, and went to the door.

“What about me?” Biff asked.

Constantine turned and gave him a long, cold stare. Biff went dead white and started to shake.

Rose spoke up. “Don’t hurt him anymore. He’s been through enough.”

Constantine didn’t look her way. To Jabez he said, “Get him downstairs and find somebody to drop him at the hospital.” Without another word, the rocker walked out.

After a moment, Rose and Jack followed. “Do you think Constantine’s really going to hurt him?” she asked quietly. “Or send him bad dreams?”

“I don’t know,” Jack said. “It’s his business, not mine.” Rose didn’t find his indifference the least bit comforting.

“What if they don’t find Miles at Biff’s? And what will they do with Titania and Gino? I don’t suppose Constantine has many people to spare right now, what with the media hounding him.”

“No, but he can’t afford to let people like Titania and Gino hang around in Bayou Gavotte.”

They went down the stairs, through the red door, onto the patio, and out to the street. Surrounded by bodyguards, Constantine had joined the funky band. The jubilant musicians struck up one of his tunes. The crowd chanted and reporters tried vainly to press through the melee, but the citizens of
Bayou Gavotte protected their own. Constantine’s spectacular singing voice rose above the hubbub.

Jack steered Rose toward the gate to the warehouse, suggesting, “For the purposes of vigilante justice, I think he’d prefer to catch Titania in the act.” He paused. “Not
that
act.”

Rose didn’t laugh. “Is he going to set a trap?”

“I assume so.”

And you’ll be involved.

“I don’t like this,” Rose said. “I want to know what’s going on. I want this to be over.”

“So do I,” Jack replied.

They slipped quickly through the dark warehouse, frightening a rat or two into the deepest shadows. Sometime during the last hour, a periwinkle minivan had appeared in the courtyard and was parked behind the Porsche. They moved past it and into the apartment. Jack picked a little manila envelope up off the floor and tossed it on the futon. He shut the door behind them and leaned against it, clearly perplexed. Something had been eating at him.

“Rose, I don’t understand. After hearing that message, why aren’t you furious with me?”

“With you? Why? You didn’t call Titania; she called you.” Mentally, she bestowed a succession of vile names upon the bitch. She tossed her bag on the futon and retrieved her phone. No calls. None from Titania, from Miles, or from anyone else. She put it in her bag.

“I used the same damn words with you.”

“The sex talk?” She lifted a shoulder. “You probably used it on other women, too, if you thought it would turn them on. So what?”

“You’re incredible,” Jack said gruffly. He pulled her close and kissed her hard. Then he kissed her again. This time it was long and steamy, and Rose melted into him, tempted to let go, to just feel good for a while.

She pulled away. “However, the thought of you and Titania together makes me ill.”

Jack’s mouth twisted. “It was a few days of madness a long time ago. Forget it.”

When you’re radiating uneasiness?
That was never going to happen. She said, “That’s impossible right now. And rescuing Miles is only part of the problem. What are you and Constantine planning to do?”

“I don’t know.”

Jack was messing with his camo, trying to retreat again. Trying to hide. She wouldn’t let him. “I saw you and Constantine,” she accused. “You must be cooking something up.”

“Sure,” he agreed. “But we haven’t had a chance to talk. I’m not telepathic, and I only receive impressions from him, not full-blown plans. He wondered what I thought about Biff’s story, which I believe is basically true, but it’s his word against Titania’s.”

“Look what she did to him!”

“Vamp bites are a dicey issue, even in the underworld. It’s impossible to determine…intent.” He sounded too calm and practical. “Regardless, you won’t be involved. It’s way too dangerous.”

She scoffed. “And it’s not dangerous for you?”

“I’m used to rescuing people.”

“You wanted me there the other night. You agreed we make a good team.”

“We do, but I won’t be able to concentrate on rescuing Miles while Titania has her sights on you. And judging by today, you won’t be able to control your temper with her. The last thing we want is a knock-down, drag-out vamp fight.”

Rose swallowed a retort.

Jack looked into her eyes. “Why don’t you go to Violet’s place until this is over? Maybe she can give you her water torture or whatever it is.”

“It sure sounds like torture.” Waiting and doing nothing
while Jack went into danger? This was her fight, too. “Are you going to call Titania back?”

Behind the camouflage, she detected the slightest quivering. “I may have no choice. It depends on where she is, who she has with her, and what resources Constantine can muster. If using me as bait will get her where we want her, that’s what we’ll do.”

“I don’t like that idea,” Rose argued. He was hers to protect and defend. Hadn’t they made a connection earlier when they’d made love? He obviously cared about her, just as she cared about him. They could think up a better plan.

He went into the bedroom, threw himself down on the bed, and closed his eyes. “Let’s not talk about it.”

Damn it, he was fading away again.

He should have known she wouldn’t take his decree lying down. If he had any sense at all, he wouldn’t be lying down right now, either. But it was too late to rethink that. She was getting pissed off again, which only went to show she needed to stay somewhere safe.

Her allure gathered, caressing, lassoing, enveloping him. He was hard in an instant, stifling a moan, loving it, longing for the pleasure and oblivion she offered. Demanded.
Forced.
No! He had to stay in control. This was everything he’d sworn would never happen again. Even if it was Rose.

She got onto the bed and straddled him. Her fangs slotted down. “Jack, I need to know what I’m up against.”

“Up against?” He gasped the words in desperate mockery. “Me, obviously.”

“Something’s bothering you. A lot.” She rubbed herself against his engorged flesh through the layers of their clothing.

Bothering me? Yes. You.
He shuddered, dragging his mind away from his throbbing prick. He should focus on his camouflage. God, it was bloody impossible with her grinding against him. But he couldn’t afford impossible. He had to fight this;
he had to win. Even if this was Rose…
No.
He must not give in. He had to prove this to himself.

“Stop it.” He lifted her and set her abruptly at the edge of the bed, then turned away. “It’s nothing to do with you.”
Please.
“It’s my problem, not yours.” Though he didn’t want to explain.

Rose climbed right back on top, riding his hip. “It
is
my problem,” she said. She rubbed herself against him, blew on his throat, and nipped his shoulder.

He shuddered again, but despair gave him strength. He made himself go still. Made himself fade…

She shucked her T-shirt. “It’s my problem because you struggle to resist me. It’s my problem because you go through some weird internal agony when you should be letting go and enjoying yourself with me. I want you, and I want you badly—and I like it that way.”

Her voice sucked at him, and her words made sense. But she didn’t understand. He couldn’t let himself think, either; he could only hold tight.
Tight.
He wouldn’t give in to the allure, to the power of their attraction and his addiction. He couldn’t afford to lose control ever again. He would prevail because he had no choice.

“That’s what makes it so good,” Rose cajoled, sweet and insistent, honey and musk, nectar and wine.

No, letting go meant helplessness, exposure, peril. Losing control brought failure and death.

“Why not let yourself enjoy wanting me?” she coaxed.

“Shit,” Jack said, and it was almost a sob, but he would not succumb. He armored himself in camouflage, wreathed himself in nothingness, blended, faded, sighed…Why must she keep on talking? Her voice, rational and kind, seductively calm, lulled him like the drug she was. The drug he had to avoid. Didn’t he?

“It can’t be because I’m a vamp,” she went on. “It’s one thing to panic when you’ve been wounded and don’t know
whether I’m trustworthy. It’s another entirely to misjudge a whole group of people because a few of them are rotten. You know you’re safe with me, Jack, but you’re still acting weird. Why?”

Desperately, he whispered, “I can’t explain.” He didn’t want to explain.

The nasty voice chimed in.
You’ll lose her.

No, please,
the rest of him begged. He was almost invisible, almost there.

She whammed him with allure, tugged him onto his back again. He was losing control, wavering again into view. She unbuttoned his shirt and ran hungry eyes over his naked torso.
Oh God, oh God…
He struggled to camouflage his chest, conceal his arms. Conceal his guilt.

“Why not?” she repeated. She straddled him again and slid her hands up his half-visible chest. Her voice was beginning to sound desperate. “Come
on.
I can feel your arousal. I can smell it. What’s
wrong
with you?”

What
was
wrong with him? He grabbed her wandering hands. His own hands were invisible—even he couldn’t see them—and his voice emerged thickly now, blurred. He was winning. He was.

Losing,
corrected the nasty voice.
Losing Rose.

A massive shudder racked him. “Rose. Stop this. Please.” She had to give him some time.

“No.” She ground herself against him. “You’re being an ass. Tell me what’s bothering you, goddamn it.” She flooded him with allure, whammed, slammed, bammed him again. He gritted his teeth and erected a wall against the battery of seduction, barricaded himself against the assault of desire.

Idiot,
said one voice.
Jerk. You’re not being rational.

Oh, but I am,
insisted another.
Willpower, safety, control.

She took off her bra and flung it across the room. She rubbed her breasts against his naked, invisible chest.

No.
He held himself rigid and unmoving beneath her, his
whole body as stiff as his prick. “Stop it. Now.” His voice, grating with contained emotion, with controlled desire, with victory at last, withered as he dissolved completely from sight.

“Leave. Me. Be.”

When Jolene finally returned them to her agency office well after sunset, Juma already had her seat belt off and her backpack over her shoulder. She was sick and tired of looking at houses, and she’d jabbered herself hoarse trying to keep the woman’s attention.

She had bagged the front seat, pissing Jolene off right from the start, and they’d almost run off the road more than once because the agent was ogling poor Gil. Jack’s friend had said little from the back, but Jolene quivered visibly whenever he spoke. Juma had done a little quivering of her own, which was sort of fun, but she knew better than to let it get to her.

The real-estate agent didn’t shut off the car. Instead, she smiled at Gil and said brightly, “I’ve got an idea? We’ll drop Juma at the library to do homework, and go have a drink. We have a
lot
to discuss.”

“Oh, no, you don’t.” Juma had had enough, and so had Gil. “Don’t waste your time. He’s not going to sleep with you or anyone else while he has me.” That shut the bitch up. Belately, however, Juma realized Gil might take her seriously. She turned to wink reassuringly at him. That was when she saw the pink Lincoln in front of the shoe store at the other end of the strip mall.

“Traitor!” she shrieked. “I can’t believe I trusted you!” Cramming her poetry book into her pocket, she jumped out the other side of the car.

She took off running as a dog yapped—oh, crap, not Poopsie!—and yapped again. The door of the shoe store
opened, and Grandma, in velvet sweats to match her pink hair, stalked out. Poopsie scrabbled at the half-open window of the Lincoln and yapped harder than ever. Grandma waved her cane and screeched, “Juma!”

No way, no way in hell she’s getting me back.
But there was nowhere to go, no houses or yards, just commercial buildings, and far down the empty road, another mall. Some woods rose up a long way off across an open field. No cover anywhere. Even in the dark of evening, she’d be easy to find.

Grandma’s hysterical quavers—
such bullshit
—receded behind her, along with the dog’s whimper as Grandma shut him up. There was the sound of a car door opening, and of Jolene’s startled questions. Gil’s frazzled but still gorgeous voice came next, “Thank you, I really must run,” followed by more exclamations. Grandma’s now strident bellow ensued, and the slamming of a car door.

Knowing her grandmother wouldn’t give chase on foot, Juma scurried up a driveway and behind a clump of warehouses. Maybe one was still open; she could duck inside a back door and come out through the front once Gil and Grandma both drove away. But after tugging at one door and then another, she found them both locked.

A Dumpster? Too obvious. There seemed no good place to hide. It was chilly and horribly dark all around. In the whole area only one lonely light shone, above another locked door.