Three days had passed, and I had remained true to my resolution. I didn’t tease Conrad. I didn’t follow him. Whenever we met, I tried to be friendly without pushing myself on him. I’m a pretty good actress, so he probably didn’t even notice the strain I felt from having to fake some cheer.
It didn’t take long for me to realize that Olivia might have been right. Once I stopped seeking him out, it was obvious it had always been one-sided. I went to Conrad. Conrad never came to find me.
Which was fine.
No. Absolutely. It was fine.
He was free to do whatever he wanted. I was glad I had figured it out before I really got on his nerves.
But after a few days of only playing with Kappa or sitting by myself, feeling pitiful and ashamed, my stomach was a wreck.
I was pushing the food around my dinner plate with a fork and trying to convince myself to put some in my mouth, when Darius came into the dining room.
“Conrad, Emerra, everything’s arranged. Are you packed?”
“Yes, sir,” Conrad said.
Packed? Oh. Right. Something about clothes.
“When do we leave?” I asked.
“The Torr is sending someone to pick us up,” Darius said. “They’ll be here in an hour and a half.”
It’s a sign of how out of it I was that I didn’t ask any questions. I stood up from my chair and put my napkin to the side of my plate.
“I’ll go get ready.”
I left without looking around, glad for the chance to escape without having to eat.
It took me less than ten minutes to roll up my clothes and pack them in the bag Olivia had loaned me. I didn’t have anything else to do, but I stayed in my room until it was time to go.
When my phone said it was ten minutes to ten, I went downstairs. One of the two front doors was open. Darius’s silver, hard-shell luggage was already waiting under the porch light. I wheeled my suitcase onto the porch, propped it up on its end, and stood beside it.
I glanced at my phone.
Nine fifty-five.
Maybe Kappa was still awake. I’d warned him that I’d be leaving, but since I’d said it for three days in a row and never left, I’m not sure he believed me. I wanted to say goodbye, but most nights he headed off to his nest around nine.
The second door opened behind me, and Conrad stepped out onto the porch. He was carrying one of those olive green, top-loading duffel bags you can only buy at an army surplus store. He wasn’t wearing a jacket, despite the cold.
Out of sympathy, I overlapped the ends of my red hoodie until both sides of the zipper were under the opposite armpit—you know, in case the wolfman with the built-in fur coat was cold.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hey.”
I bit down on the inside of my lips so I wouldn’t say anything else.
Darius joined us on the porch. Over his shoulder was an expensive-looking messenger bag. “Did you remember your charging cord, Emerra?”
“It’s the first thing I packed.”
“Toothbrush? Toiletries?”
I couldn’t help feeling annoyed. Who wants to be mothered by a vampire? And why did he pick on me but not Conrad? Did Darius have that much more respect for the wolfman?
Nope. Never mind. I didn’t want to know.
I snapped my fingers. “Shoot! I forgot my hairbrush.”
Vasil’s most common sign of amusement is a subtle, closed-lip smile. It proves he has a sense of humor without revealing his fangs.
He smiled now, but he also took the hint and stopped nagging.
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A car pulled up the drive. As it got closer, a bubble of excitement swelled in my chest. It was a limousine.
I laughed. “Whoa-ho-ho, what!” I turned to Darius. “For real? Is this how you drive around when you need to get to the airport?”
“Generally, I prefer to drive myself in the SUV.”
“Then what’s with the royal treatment?”
Darius glanced behind me, but he didn’t answer.
“It’s for me,” Conrad said.
I turned. The wolfman was watching the car as it pulled in front of us.
“The windows are dark,” he added.
I wanted to punch Conrad’s arm and tell him that they were spoiling him, or joke about how he was a movie star, but his voice had been soft and serious. It made me realize how chirpy I must have sounded.
I bit the inside of my lips again and tried to ignore the sadness dribbling through my ribs.
The driver got out and came up to Darius. He touched his hat.
“Good evening, Mr. Vasil.”
“Hobbs, isn’t it?”
The man smiled. “It is, sir. Good evening, Mr. Bauer.”
Conrad nodded to him.
Hobbs looked at me with a polite, professional, nonplussed expression.
“Oh,” Darius said suddenly, as if he’d forgotten. “I apologize. This is Emerra Cole.”
That’s me. The human addendum.
“Good evening, ma’am,” Hobbs said. “May I take your bag?”
I handed off my luggage and walked toward the car.
“Would you like me to get the door for you?” Hobbs cried.
Darius answered, “You don’t have to be so formal. Let her explore. Conrad and I can help you with the bags.”
I left them to deal with our driver’s protests while I crawled into the limo to take advantage of the few seconds I had to goggle before the others got in.
The interior was as dark and romantic as they made them look in the movies. There was a bench in the back and another bench along the side. Across from the side bench was a small bar—with drinks! Including soda! Along the whole interior were two, thin, LED light strips, running above and below the windows. A rainbow of neon colors slid around each strip.
I climbed onto the side bench so I could put a finger down on the lower strip. The violet glow ran from my left side, under my finger, off to my right. Red followed it. Then yellow.
Conrad got in and claimed the far side of the back bench.
I pulled my hand down and sat properly in my seat.
After an hour of driving, we made it to the airport. I’d never heard of it before. I took that as a sign of how small it was. When Hobbs helped me out of the limo, I saw two other people—one woman, one man—dressed in the same stark, black suit as our driver. They flanked the short walk from our limo to the mobile stairs that led up to a private jet.
“Good evening, Mr. Vasil,” the woman said. She stood in a stiff, parade-rest stance, and she didn’t move when she spoke. “Everything’s clear.”
“Thank you.”
Darius and Conrad were kind enough to allow Hobbs to do his job while the other suits were watching. Our driver and yet another suit went ahead of us to make sure all our luggage got on the plane.
I fell in step beside the count.
“How many people get to use this airport?” I asked.
“It’s more correctly called an airfield,” the vampire persnicked.
“Sure. And how many people get to use it?”
“That’s hard to estimate. It depends on—”
“Does anyone outside of the Torr get to use it?”
“No.”
“Ah.”
When we climbed into the plane, both pilots were standing by to greet us. Neither of them batted an eyelash when they saw Conrad, and they called Darius, Mr. Vasil. I broke away to investigate the plane while they talked about the flight plan and when we’d arrive in England.
I had only flown once before. As I looked around, I couldn’t help remembering the cramped, tiny seats, the mash of people, and the too skinny aisle. This jet could have seated ten people in the kind of comfort that a first-class flier would be jealous of. A full sized TV sat across the aisle from a nine-foot bench seat that was basically—we’ll be real—a couch. It had throw pillows and everything.
Never before had I wanted, so badly, to be rich.
As luxurious as it was, the cabin was still too short for Conrad to stand up in comfortably. He sat down in one of the recliner seats as soon as he could. There were six of them. A set of two were on one side of the aisle, facing each other. The remaining four were on the other side, facing each other in pairs. Conrad grabbed the furthest back of the four. He put his phone on the small table in front of him and stared out the window.
The empty seat next to him was tempting, but considering there were only three passengers, I couldn’t justify crowding him.
The battle between my temptation and my resolve rooted my feet to the aisle between the TV and the couch-bench. I might have stayed there the whole time, but Darius took my shoulder and gently moved me to the side.
“It’s going to be a long flight, Emerra,” he said as he passed. “You might as well get comfortable.”
“Yeah.” I motioned to the plane. “It’ll be a struggle, but I think I can manage.”
“Good.”
With a quiet groan, I flopped onto the couch-bench.
[https://i.imgur.com/f011ZNa.jpg]
Darius Vasil walked through the cabin on the way back to his seat after using the lavatory. The lights had been dimmed out of respect for the fact it was the middle of the night, no matter which time zone you were referencing.
Vasil didn’t mind. He could see in the dark.
As he passed the bench, he looked down at Emerra, and his cheek lifted in a faint smile.
He sat down in the seat across from Conrad.
The wolfman was gazing out the window.
“You can’t sleep?” Darius whispered.
Conrad turned away from the window. “I don’t sleep well on planes. Never have. I hope I can fall asleep soon.” He shrugged.
Darius hummed his agreement. “I think Emerra’s the lucky one.”
“She’s asleep?”
“It took a while, but she’s out now. I wondered if she might be too excited to sleep, but…” The count shook his head.
The muted roar of the plane engines filled the silence.
“Has she been having nightmares again?” Vasil asked.
“I don’t know,” the wolfman grumbled.
“She seems…lower-energy than normal.”
Conrad didn’t respond.
The vampire let his hand rest on the table and pressed each fingertip down in turn.
“Have you two had a fight or something?” Darius said.
The wolfman glared at him. “Ask her.”