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Authors: Jennifer Rardin

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Once Bitten, Twice Shy

BOOK: Once Bitten, Twice Shy
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Table of Contents
Once Bitten, Twice Shy
By
Jennifer Rardin

 

Dear Reader,

A few months ago a manuscript zapped into my inbox with a cover note from the agent that read: "A nice place to visit, but you wouldn't want to die there." Miami isn't the first city you'd think of for an urban fantasy novel, but then again, Jaz Parks isn't your ordinary heroine. She's an Assistant Assassin. And her boss is an ancient vampire on the CIA's payroll.

ONCE BITTEN, TWICE SHY is the beginning of the Jaz Parks series. What I loved from the first page was Jaz Parks's voice: vulnerable on one side and yet fully capable of taking out anyone who gets in her way, usually the bad guys. This is a book that will keep you on the edge of your seat, so keep a pillow on the floor, just in case you fall off.

We all know that the urban fantasy market is booming, given the success of writers such as Keri Arthur, Patricia Briggs, Laurell K. Hamilton, Charlaine Harris, and Kim Harrison. But what I think each of them has—and what Jennifer Rardin has—is the ability to create characters that do more than leap off the page. They also grab you by the throat and don't let go.

This is, quite simply, a great read—fun, fast-paced, and oozing attitude and wit.

Best,

Devi Pillai

Editor, Orbit

P.S. ANOTHER ONE BITES THE DUST will be out in December 2007 and BITING THE BULLET will be joining the series in February 2008. We know you won't want to wait!

Copyright © 2007 by Jennifer Rardin

Orbit

Hachette Book Group USA

237 Park Avenue, New York, NY 10017

Visit our Web site at www.HachetteBookGroupUSA.com

First Edition: October 2007

Orbit is a trademark of Little, Brown Book Group Limited.

The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

ISBN 9780316020466

Printed in the United States of America

 

For Kirk, my inspiration, my joy, my love.

Prologue

 

Fear sucks. Because you never know when it will hit you. Sometimes it sneaks up behind you, giggling like your best girlfriend from 7th grade. Then it whacks you on the back of the head, takes you straight to your knees before you realize what hit you. Other times you can see it coming, just a dot on the horizon, but you're like a canary in a cage. All you can do is hang in there and hope it doesn't hit you so hard you get motion sickness and puke all over the newspapers.

I already felt pretty queasy as I perched on the single, wooden folding chair in my boss, Pete's, office. In fact, I hadn't been this scared since I'd started working for him six months before. Not even when, about ten hours into my first mission, I'd walked into my hotel room to find a vampire standing beside the bed, holding a crossbow. My crossbow. The one I'd meant to use to eliminate him.

Unlike that scenario, this was not a case where I could just go away and try again later. Or, as I had actually done, kick both shoes into his face to throw him off balance, blast his kneecaps with the .38 I wore under my skirts for insurance, then finish him off with the crossbow he'd dropped when his bones shattered. In this instance I was forced to sit absolutely still and try not to ralf all over the Top Secret files stacked in rows two and sometimes three deep on Pete's green metal desk. Because, despite the fact that I'd successfully completed every mission he'd assigned me so far, Pete was about to fire my ass.

There could be no other explanation for this call-in. The man, notorious for his penny-pinching, had phoned me at 3:00 a.m. direct from Ohio to London for the express purpose of informing me I should buy a first-class ticket back to headquarters as soon as my job there was finished. He was probably looking at the receipt now, along with all the other expenses of my latest trip abroad. He ran a hand across his head, making his three remaining dome-hairs stand on end as he studied the open file in front of him.

I couldn't bear it any longer. There is only so much you can take of staring at blank turquoise walls, rows of black metal file cabinets, and white slatted blinds that have never been opened, which would explain the dead plant sitting on the table by the window. I sat forward, the chair creaking alarmingly beneath me.
No doubt about it, I am the only thing in this office under the age of fifty
.

You wouldn't know it to look at my clothes, though. I'd come straight from an American Airlines flight during which an avio-phobic widow had wadded various handfuls of my blouse and jacket into her fists the entire time. I looked like a homeless woman. Holy crap, if I lost this job I'd soon
be
a homeless woman. And that was the good news!

"Look, Pete, I know you told me to cut out the car hits. The repairs are too expensive. You told me that. So I stopped. I haven't caused an "accidental" crash in three months, you know that! But this last one just couldn't be avoided."

"I understand you took out my counterpart in MI5."

"Well, yeah, but only because his driver was in on the plot. He'll be fine. You heard that too, right? His back will heal in, like, six weeks."

"I heard there was a bomb."

"It didn't go off."

"But it could have."

I shrugged. "Better there than at the coronation."
Wait, that sounds a little casual for somebody who should be begging at this point
. "But I am sorry about the car. I took out extra insurance."

"This has nothing to do with the car. In fact, I'm glad you put that bastard in traction. Self righteous twit. No, you're here because I have a new assignment for you."

Thank you, God. I still have work
! I nearly relaxed. Which, considering my current state, would've sent me right to the floor. But Pete had started cracking his knuckles. In my time with him I'd seen pencil chewing, furniture kicking, file throwing, and a short bout with scented candles. But the knuckle cracking was new. I sat back carefully and waited.

"You've heard of Vayl?" Pete asked.

"Who hasn't?" Even if, as was likely, Vayl's legend had far outpaced his achievements, he still rated maaaaajor respect. The guy was an icon, and not just because he'd become one of the 15 percent, or so, of vampires to gain acceptance among humans. He was also the best assassin our department had ever fronted.

"I'm partnering you with him." Pete's eyes darted away from my face, so I guess I wasn't hiding the What-The-Hell! very well. Long silence during which I tried to make my head stop spinning and Pete cleared his throat a few times.

"Pete, I… when you hired me, you promised I could work alone." My previous job had involved an entire crew, of which, I had been the leader. It had ended badly.

"Jasmine, Vayl has requested a partner. You specifically. You're smart, aggressive and resilient. His words, although I agree."

My lips had gone numb. "Uh-huh. And?"

He sighed. "And increasingly dangerous—to yourself." He rushed on before I could interrupt, which was a good thing, because I think my first response might've ruptured his eardrums. "You've been taking bigger and bigger risks. Like the job in Cuba."

I'd hit Castro's most trusted advisor, a general named Miguel Santas. In the middle of a crowded market. In broad daylight. Within arm's reach of his lieutenants. But I'd gotten away clean. Didn't that count for anything?

"And the one in Colorado."

Aaah, sweet. A pedophile named George Freede had started a church called International Brothers of the Light. Their main focus seemed to be kidnapping children from the U.S. and selling them to the highest foreign bidder. I'd tracked him to a resort and pushed him off a mountain. Okay, we'd both fallen off, but I'd landed on my skis in nice, fluffy powder. He'd dropped on a rock.

"I know how furious you must be, Jaz—"

"I don't think so."

He sighed again. "Okay, maybe not. But it's my responsibility to make sure my agents survive."

"So you got me a babysitter."

Pete laughed, deep in his belly where it sounded the most real. "Hell no. I hooked you up with a guy who's been alive nearly 300 years. I was just hoping some of his interest in life would rub off on you."

Tears pricked my eyelids. "I'm not suicidal."

Powerful word, suicide, no matter how you use it. It sobered Pete instantly. "No. If you were, you'd have died eight months ago. But you're not sensible either. You need somebody around who's not afraid to get in your face and tell you when you're acting like an idiot."

My fury had waned. Dammit, I should've yelled when I still had the gumption. But I couldn't deny the sense in what Pete said. And it was kind of nice to be looked after, cared for. I had only been alone a little over half a year. But it had felt like thousands.

I sighed. "You said he requested me? Why?"

"He's got his own reasons, which he says he'll reveal to you in his own time." Pete and I shared a cynical raising of the eyebrows.

"Quite a mysterious character, isn't he?" I noted.

"When he wants to be," Pete agreed.

We talked for awhile longer. Which was when I discovered, while Pete wanted me to stop taking crazy chances,
his
bosses appreciated the fact that I was willing.

"Our government looks at Vayl as a national treasure, Jaz," Pete said. "On paper you're his assistant. In reality, you're his bodyguard. You've met the members of our oversight committee."

And how. Senators Fellen, Tredd and Bozcowski had pretty much cured me of ever wanting to vote again.

Pete went on. "They've asked me to make sure you understand your primary mission will always be to make sure he comes back in one piece."

I'm 5' 5". I weigh one-twenty when I remember to eat, which isn't regularly. No question this guy, Vayl, could snap me like a twig any time the urge hit him. I laughed. Pete didn't. "You're not kidding."

"Apparently Vayl had a close call on his last mission. Real close. Which was why he revealed a secret no vampire has ever told anyone before. There are two moments when vamps are completely vulnerable. When they're taking blood. And when they're making a kill. He might have other reasons for wanting you there, but the fact that some ear-breather nearly smoked my best agent is enough for me and more than enough for the powers that control my budget. He wants a partner. You're it."

Chapter One

 

Six Months Later

"Get outta my way you old bat," I muttered under my breath as an elderly woman who shouldn't have been driving a golf cart much less a Lincoln Town Car at this time of night put-putted down the street in front of me, her blinker announcing she meant to make a right turn some time before she reached the ocean.

"A little testy tonight, aren't we Lucille?" Lucille Robinson is my usual cover and my alter-ego, a gracious, sweet girl who always knows the right thing to say. Vayl invokes her when I step out of line. I nearly flipped him off, but since he's still got one foot mired in the 1700s, I thought better of it and stuck my tongue out at him instead. I wasn't sure he'd see me making faces at him in the rear-view, but of course Vayl sees everything. I realized I'd come to count on that as much as I sought his approval which, at the moment, had ditched me.

BOOK: Once Bitten, Twice Shy
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