Biting the Bullet (Jaz Parks, Book 3)
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I'm Lucille Robinson
(aka Jaz Parks).
This is a mission unlike anything my vampire boss, Vayl, and I have ever been on. It's not our usual take them out and run; it's an undercover mission that needs the whole gang: a psychic, an interpreter, and a weapons specialist. We're joining a Special Ops team to nail the Wizard, a major terrorist thorn in the military's side. We've never gone in with such heavy artillery before, but the more the merrier, right? Um . . . nope. At least not since Vayl and I learned part of our job is to ferret out a mole concealed in our unit.
To add to our problems, we're being harried by a pack of reavers bent on revenge, and targeted by a Seer who wants to share Vayl's power - at any cost. Oh yeah, and let's not forget the army of demonic, soul-sucking parasites either. This is going to be a blast.
house-hold. Any minute now we could be surrounded by fifteen to twenty pissed off vamps and their human guardians, who would feel they had every right to kill us for trespassing. As if he’d read my mind, an enormous man burst out of the door the new Deyrar had just exited. His appearance, yet even more distracting than that of his mistress, made me seriously consider smoking my target just so I could stand and stare. He went shirtless, though mid-April in Greece is pretty mild and the
last time I did anything for even a month straight.” “You shave.” He scratched at his beard. “Usually.” “You brush your teeth.” “That’s true.” “It is that routine for me.” “You know what? I think I’ll avoid demons anyway.” Cassandra nodded, the ghost of a smile flitting across her face. “It’s probably for the best.” Bergman said, “So it sounds like Jaz just needs to wash the spot with holy water. Except” — he looked at me — “do you even know where the spot is?” I thought of the
Inside, where it wasn’t required. It wasn’t quite as bad as the old pictures of women wearing blue tents with eye slits. But she’d come damn close. And that yellowish purple hue around her right eye couldn’t be the latest craze in makeup. It looked to me like Soheil had been making free with the domestic violence. My temper’s got a fuse, and Soheil had definitely started a slow burn. Slow because I knew I couldn’t afford an explosion anytime in the near future. But when the moment was right . .
Asha wiped the tears off his face with both hands. “Here,” he said gently. “Take them.” He cupped my cheeks. I sucked in my breath as the moisture burned into my skin. “Asha.” “Now go!” He made a commanding motion and of its own accord my foot slammed the accelerator. Chapter Twenty I believe in miracles. E.J.’s my main proof. I can’t look into those wide green eyes, feel those perfect little fingers wrapped around mine, realize this complete little girl with her own personality, made of my
bags, mats. I got the feeling not all of the Wizard’s men were zombies. Or, at least, not at first. I wondered where they’d gone. Surely he had more than the six he’d sent against our guys. But the rooms were empty. The hall finally opened to a large circular area accented with a huge rug done in blues and reds. Silk pillows in rich, dark hues were strewn across this in groupings of twelve or fifteen. An indentation in one large red one showed where the Wizard had been resting before we showed