Once Bitten, Twice Shy Read Online Free Page A

Assan's digs, trying not to gape too much at the enormous, brilliantly lit mansions fronted by country club style landscaping. The lawns were so well manicured you could've used them for putting greens. What a hoot if Dave and his buddies had lived here, because they actually would have. I could imagine them all, full of that eighteen-year-old cockiness you wish guys would never lose, drinking Albert's beer and calling their shots like it was a game of 8-ball.
    I spared my twin one more minute, wondering what part of the world held him tonight, hoping he was okay. Like me, Dave's pretty high up the hush-hush ladder. Like me, he'd started in a different part of the Agency, but now he's a Special Ops stud, so he spends the majority of his time overseas. It's an excellent excuse not to keep in touch and we use it like a dust rag. If we were careful we'd never have to speak to each other again. A hell of an accomplishment for people who used to complete each other's sentences.
    "
Enough,"
I told myself, "enough, enough, enough—" I bit my lip, stopping the loop with pain.
You're working Jasmine, so work. Focus on the work. The work will keep you sane. At least in everybody else's eyes
.
    I took a deep breath and let it out with a laugh when I saw the fancy, scrolled metal sign on the gate in front of Assan's house. Anything with an entrance right out of Jurassic Park and enough fencing to contain a herd of brachiosaurus demands a name, and Assan had chosen Alpine Meadows. Without a mountain in sight. Nor were there any cute Austrian kids running around singing "Do, Re, Mi." Who was this guy really kidding? The name might trigger thoughts of "Sound of Music," but it looked like "The Haunting of Hill House."
    Driving on, I discovered the area contained more dead ends and cul de sacs than a game of Clue. But I did find a couple of quick routes out just in case the boogers hit the blender. I cruised the neighborhood five more minutes, soaking in the ambiance, picturing myself looking like I belonged inside one of these six-bedroom, 4 1/2 bath monstrosities. Then I went back for Vayl.
    I didn't see him when I pulled into the parking lot, but I could feel him waiting for me. Although it was more than that. It's an extra sense, one I've only had since… well, for about 14 months. And I'm not the only one who's fascinated by it.
    During our first mission together, Vayl had admitted part of the reason he requested our pairing was the fact that I can smell vamps. Not literally. Still, it's almost a visceral scent, something near the back of the nose and just behind the eyeballs that whispers
immortal
to the base of my brain. Different vamps make me react different ways, but that's the basic idea.
    We'd been stalking a renegade named Gerardo, who the Italian authorities had asked us to bag before he decimated yet another convent. Apparently he'd run through so many in Europe that he'd felt the need to emigrate. Having trailed our quarry to the hushed halls of the Monastery of St. Bernadette in Oregon, we hoped the sisters had enough brains to keep themselves barricaded in their cells and that my inner alarm would sound before one of them needed to escape for a quick pee.
    "Do you feel anything yet?" Vayl had asked.
    "Nope. And I'm not sure it would help if I did."
    "Why not?"
    "It's not like I could give you coordinates. The Sensitivity doesn't work that way. Best case scenario, all I know is he's in the same room as us."
    Vayl had stopped me, his hand so warm on my shoulder I would've suggested a trip to the emergency room if he'd been human. "I believe this gift is just the tip if the iceberg, Jasmine. If we nurture it, develop it, I think you will be amazed to discover what lies deep beneath the water."
    Ironically, that was where we found Gerardo, hiding under the lily pads in the fountain behind the abbey church. I'd seen vamps fight before. Fought beside them, in fact. But Vayl surpassed them all. He attacked Gerardo with the