Death's Rival Read Online Free

dimpled by my fingers. They didn’t move back into
     proper position.
Permanent damage to Leo’s toy. Crap
.
    As we taxied to wherever the Learjet was going to hang out while I did Leo’s bidding,
     I pulled the laptop to me again and sent Reach a text. “Still waiting on Seattle financial
     info.” It was a nudge that he didn’t need, but needling Reach to speedier work wasn’t
     something I got to do often, and was not about to pass up now.
    Reach sent back a series of dollar signs by way of an answer. “$$$$$$.”
    “Funny guy,” I muttered. “Charge Leo all you want.”
    I texted back “What about the CS canisters?” The CS canisters were a potential new
     weapon in the war on rogue-vamps, pressurized colloidal silver water. Vamps didn’t
     breathe often, but in combat they did sometimes take a breath. If the air had a mist
     of colloidal silver vapor, the vamps would inhale the poison. It wouldn’t kill them,
     but it would slow them down. Maybe. And the poison might kill them later. It would
     certainly hurt them, even maybe burn their skin. I could hope.
    Reach immediately sent back “Done. Untested. Delivered to your place soonest.”
    An e-mail beeped into my in-box, and I frowned, suddenly feeling helpless and useless.
     It was from Adelaide, the blood-servant daughter of Dacy Mooney. I opened it and read
     the short message. It was the same as the last three I’d gotten from her. “Any word?
     Any cure?” I typed back “Not yet. Will know more by morning.” Of course, her mother
     and the other vamps in Asheville could die anytime, bleeding out from the new vamp
     disease. Just another reminder that time was of the essence.
    I remembered to unplug my cell from the jet’s battery chargers. That reactivated the
     cell’s GPS tracking device and gave Leo the ability to track me, my calls, my e-mails,
     and texts all in real time. For all I knew, it gave him the power to listen in on
     non-phone-call conversations. But the guy was paying me
very
well, so I wasn’t complaining. Much. And I had two throwaway cells in my luggage
     for my private calls.
    I tossed my go-bag on the seat as the small jet taxied and slowed. I wasn’t going
     to be in Sedona long enough to get to shift, which ticked Beast off. She knew most
     everything I did and that meant she knew that mountain lions had been sighted near
     here. Two large males, probably litter mates, as they had learned the unlikely ability
     of pack hunting. Instead of going solitary, they were taking down prey together. Like
     African lions.
    Good hunters. Need strong mate,
she sulked. Which she had been doing a lot lately.
    They’re too dangerous. They’re being hunted. They’ll be dead soon,
I thought at her.
    Beast growled in anger, but there wasn’t anything I could do about two wild big-cats
     who had learned a new trick. Not a dang thing. Snarling, she retreated into the depths
     of my mind, silent, distant, as she had been for weeks, since that accidental run-in
     with the angel Hayyel.
    When the plane finally stopped and the engine whine decreased, Tory appeared in the
     cabin and opened the door to the outside. The smells of the world blew in on a hot
     gust. I stopped. Lips parting, eyes closing. On top of everything was the reek of
     petroleum products, heated plastic and metal, rubber, exhaust, and asphalt, but underneath
     that was a blend of subtle scents all fused together, unknown trees, flowers, hot
     sand, minerals I didn’t recognize, herbs still carrying the heat of the day.
    Beast rose fast and took over, holding me down, her claws in my mind, painful. I held
     on to the seat arms again, breathing in through mouth and nose, smelling, tasting,
     parsing the scents. It was . . . amazing was too trite a word. Too overused. I had
     no word for the aromatic mixture. It was yellow like sunlight, and red like iron-rich
     earth. It sang of scarlet and sun and iron, with rare blues and greens, and the land
     stretched out