Bitten to Death

“Who brings baby pictures on an international flight?” I hissed. “If I’d wanted my bare ass paraded in front of all the first-class ticket holders I’d have mooned everyone before we took off!”

Vayl knew better than to tell me the pictures were adorable. Then I’d have had to kill him too. “Look into my eyes,” he said.

“What, so you can hypnotize me? No thanks.”

He shook his head. “We both know my powers have a minimal effect on you. Come now, my pretera. Humor me.”

“What’s a pretera?” I muttered.

“It is a Romani word, meaning wildcat.”

“Oh. In that case . . .” I locked stares with the guy who’d started out as my boss and ended up . . . well, that remained to be seen. But the possibilities had begun to make my skin steam. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

Vayl’s shrug reminded me strongly of his European roots. “How do you say? Money talks.”

So true. In this case, the bucks had come from Albert himself. “What are we, the Russian Space Agency?” I demanded. “Selling seats on our assignments to the highest bidder?”

Vayl said, “I realize the shock is only now wearing off. I would have warned you, but Pete did not inform me he would be joining us until just before this leg of our flight. Apparently your father felt you would strenuously object to his presence—”

“Ya think?”

“Thus the secrecy surrounding his joining us at Gatwick.”

“Because he must’ve known I’d have thrown him off the plane in Cleveland,” I muttered, almost to myself. I realized I’d taken my hand out of my jacket and Vayl had used the opportunity to curl his fingers around mine. I shouldn’t see anything romantic in it. He was probably just trying to keep me from reaching again.

I sighed. “Okay, I won’t kill him yet. But you get those pictures out of his claws, and keep him away from me, and—”

Vayl slid his hand up my arm, sending trickles of electric awareness shooting through me. Suddenly I couldn’t think of anyone but him. A deliberate move on his part, I was sure. “I never thought I would say this,” he murmured, leaning in so his lips nearly brushed my ear. “But I would suggest you spend the rest of this flight concentrating on Cole.” Who? Oh, damn, Jaz, would you kick your brain into gear? Your third for this piece o’ crap job, remember? The one Pete has decided to fund using your dad’s IRA? I began plotting a revenge so intricate and satisfying I barely heard Vayl say, “I will deal with your father.”

“Okay. Thanks. Only, do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

“Be discreet, will you? He doesn’t know about . . . us . . . yet. And I think I should probably be the one to tell him I’m involved with a vampire.”