“Yeah, but it gives me another detail to check with the VPA. Now, how long have you known about Marco’s immunity to silver?”
“Personal knowledge? Only since he cut me.” Jo-Jo looked disgusted. “He ran his finger along the blade to gather my blood, then offered a taste to Jemina.”
“Did she, uh—”
“No, Highness. She spared me that humiliation, but Marco sucked his finger clean.”
“Gag,” I said, fighting my own reflex.
“That’s when I decided to flee. I didn’t pack so as not to alert Vlad’s spies. I left two days later, because everyone’s busy on Friday nights.”
Of course they were. The long workweek over, they kicked back on Friday nights. Happy hour with blood on tap, then hook up later for a little bite. Yuck.
“So the only things missing from Vlad’s nest are you and your laptop?” Saber asked. Jo-Jo looked sheepish. “Well, there are a few other things, but nothing that didn’t belong to me.”
Saber narrowed his eyes. “Like what, and if this will bring trouble down on Cesca, you’re a goner.”
“As in dead or just gone away?”
Saber gave Jo-Jo his cop face.
“Okay, okay. I brought the cash I had on hand, and my bank account books. I still have the Christmas Club account I opened in 1952,” he said proudly, but he hadn’t spilled everything yet.
Saber made a growling sound as I opened my psychic eye to take at peek at what Jo-Jo was dancing around.
“A key?” I said, a picture of it suddenly clear. A small version of a brass skeleton key but flat rather than rounded. “You brought an old key with you?”
Jo-Jo’s eyes rounded in amazement. “Yes, Highness, but how did you know?”
“Never mind that,” Saber said. “What does the key unlock?”
“J-just my safe-deposit box in New York City, honest,” Jo-Jo stammered, clearly shaken that I’d read him. Since I hadn’t been able to read him until now, I was surprised, too, but that was beside the point.
“Why are you being so cagey about a safe-deposit box?” I demanded.
“Well, I’ve had the box since 1927, and some of the things in it could belong to Jemina. Like a piece of jewelry.”
“Is she or anyone else likely to come hunting you for the key?” Saber asked.
Jo-Jo frowned. “I don’t think so. She mentioned the box to me about a week before I caught her with Marco, but not like it was important. It’s been so long, I’m not even sure what’s still in there.”
Saber and I exchanged a glance.
“You getting anything else from him, Cesca?”
“There’s an opal ring and a jet necklace in the box, and he knows it. Jemina swiped them both a long time ago, and Jo-Jo’s kept them for her. Other than guilt that he’s holding out on her now, that’s it. The coins, a few rings and some papers are his. Oh, and he knows what’s there, because he made an under-the-radar trip to New York last winter to check on the contents.”
Jo-Jo paled a little more than even a vamp should. Saber gave a single nod.
“I’ll contact the agent in Atlanta and put out a general call for information on immunity to silver. If there’s any scoop on this, one of my contacts should know.”
Jo-Jo sank back into the club chair with a shaky sigh and a wary eye. “Princess, how did you—”
“See the key and the other things in your thoughts?”
“Yes, and without me knowing you were in my head the first time? I didn’t even feel you when I knew you were reading me.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t mind-probe that often.”
“Did you probe those guys who threatened you tonight?”
Saber’s brows slammed into a scowl. “Who threatened you?”
It was my turn to sigh—and figure out how to get Jo-Jo to keep his big mouth shut—but I filled Saber in on Gorman and Kevin.
“I’ll check out Kevin Miller,” Saber said when I’d covered the highlights, “but Gorman shouldn’t be coming near you. Not with a restraining order on him. Damn, you have to be more careful, Cesca. You have to know when to vamp speed away from trouble.”
I drew myself up straight. “I will not run from Gorman, Saber. I won’t give him the satisfaction.”
“Then learn to fly at least enough to evade him if he grabs for you. Seeing you hover over him like an avenging angel would probably have him wetting himself.” He paused and speared Jo-Jo with a glare. “We need to start tonight’s lesson.”
“Yes, sir,” Jo-Jo said, shooting to his feet.
“No way,” I snapped and stood to face them both.
“But, Princess, we have perfect weather for the lesson.”
I stared. “Since when is a hurricane good for flying?”
“It’s not a hurricane,” Saber admonished. “It’s barely a tropical storm.”
“And the wind will add lift, my lady.”
I planted a hand on my hip. “Mary Poppins and the Flying Nun needed lift, Jo-Jo. I’m supposed to levitate, right?”