“Hey,” Remy called after me. “Where are you going? We need to leave if we want to make our flight.”
“Be right back. Bathroom break,” I called as I dashed inside and ran up to my room. I slammed the door behind me and leaned on it, my heart hammering. Somewhere out there was a halo with my name on it, and a thousand pissed-off vampires were searching for it, too. I grabbed a tote bag and stuffed a few items in it.
My bedroom door opened and I looked over.
Zane.
“Don’t you knock?” I shot him an irritated look and forced the zipper shut on my bag. There were a few things left in my life that I didn’t want him sticking his nose into.
“You seem a bit flustered,” he observed. “Something bothering you?”
“You mean other than the fact we’re on a witch hunt for a halo that the queen of all vampires wants, and if she gets it, we’re screwed? But if she doesn’t, Noah’s screwed and me, too, because he’s the only guy I’m screwing?” I gave a sharp, bitter laugh.
Zane slid over to me. “Is that what you’re worried about? ’Cause I’ve got all the same parts as your angel, babe, and I certainly don’t mind helping the needy-”
I covered his mouth before he could finish. “Such a hero. Pardon me if I pass.”
He pulled away from my hand. “The offer stands for as long as you like.” I could hear the laughter in his voice. “Vampires are known for their … endurance.”
I snorted, trying to deny the mental picture that made my knees weak. “Forget it,” I said. “You wouldn’t understand what I mean. I’m not looking for stud service.” Though he definitely fit the status of “stud.”
“Suit yourself, but you’ll come around … in about twenty-four hours, unless I miss my guess.”
Asshole. I stomped back down to the car, tote bag tucked under my arm. But as soon as I hit the driveway, another disturbing sight made me pause.
Beside Remy stood a really cute unfamiliar guy, loading her bags into the back of the car. He looked like a surfer-tan, muscular, bleached blond hair. He also looked like a college kid. I’d never seen him before.
I tossed my tote into the car and strode around to the back. “Uh, Remy? Can I talk to you for a minute?”
She gave me a distracted look. “Huh? Oh, sure. Stan, can you finish loading the car? Don’t forget your things.” Remy batted her eyelashes at him.
I dragged her over to the far side of the car. “Who the heck is that?”
Remy looked surprised at my vehement reaction. “It’s Stan.”
I resisted the urge to bang my head against the windshield. Repeatedly. “And just who is Stan, and why’s he coming with us?”
She patted me on the arm. “He’s for the Itch, hon. I’m due in about eight hours, so I figured I’d need someone along for the Mile High Club and Stan has a passport. Besides, we don’t know how long we’ll be gone.” She looked at Stan and a tiny sigh escaped her. “Just look at those muscles. Hard to believe I found him in a grocery store.”
“Not so hard,” I snapped. “He looks like he has the IQ of a cabbage.”
“Jealous?” Remy grinned at me. “I notice you don’t seem to have anyone along for the ride. Not exactly forward thinking, given our situation.”
“I’ve got it covered,” I snapped, embarrassed and irritated.
“Are you sure? Because-”
I held up a hand. “Trust me, I’ve got it covered.” She didn’t need to know that I’d packed a vibrator. Zane wasn’t an option; I wasn’t touching that man even if he was the last jerk on earth. “Does he have a ticket? Can we just get going already?”
Remy blinked in surprise. “Wow, something eating you?”
“Nothing I want to talk about, thank you.” I got into the car and turned on the engine, waiting for everyone else to get ready.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
I was in Hell.
Remy swatted me with her boarding pass as she stood in line, waiting to hand it to the gate attendant. “Chill out, Jackie. What is your problem?”
I wasn’t about to tell her; the humiliation would be too deep. I stood my ground, glaring at the security officer and clutching my tote bag under my arm. “You are
The guard wasn’t budging, either. “Airline policy, ma’am. We randomly search every eighth person.”
“Check number nine this time.” I gestured at Zane, who stood behind me, hands tucked into the pockets of his leather trench coat. “Ten bucks says that if you search him, you’ll find plenty.”
The security guard glowered at me, his face turning red behind his thick white mustache. “Miss, you’ll have to get out of line right now, and I insist on searching you-not your friend. So hand me the bag.” He reached for my carry-on again, scowling when I moved it out of reach. “Now.”
Remy groaned. “They’re not going to let us board if you keep pulling this crap, Jackie, and I’m more than ready to hit the drinks in first class.” Her blue eyes stared at me impatiently, and if I looked down I’d probably see her Manolo Blahnik sandal tapping impatiently. The Itch was a lot like PMS in the beginning stages; the onflux of hormones brought on some serious mood-swing action.
“I think you should let them check your bag,” Stan chirped helpfully.
“Shut up, Boy Wonder. Nobody asked you.” I pointed at the ancient security guard. “I’m thinking Gramps here picked me out of the line because he wants to feel up my boobs on the pretense of hidden weaponry.”
“Jackie.” Zane placed his hand on my shoulder and his eyes met mine. “Let the man check your bag so we can get on the plane.”
And just like that, I handed my bag to the security guard and allowed him to open it in front of the entire line. Numb with dread, I watched as he pulled my items out. Blow dryer. Curling iron. My Ziploc-bagged hairspray. Not that I was going to be spending a lot of time fixing my hair in Egypt; I’d hoped all the junk would mask the true item I was trying to smuggle in.
No sooner did I think it than the security guard pulled out a long, flesh-shaped object. “What’s this?”
I heard Stan snort with laughter. Remy howled with delight.
“It’s nothing,” I said, wishing the ground would swallow me up. “Just put it back, all right?”
But no. The security guard was apparently curious about it and switched it on. A loud buzzing sound filled the air, and the few people in line who weren’t already interested were suddenly glued to the sight of my vibrator going off in the man’s hand.
“Oh,” he said, straightening his glasses in surprise. “I … oh.” Words failed him.
I covered my eyes, wondering if my day could get any worse.
Zane strolled over and looped his arm over my shoulder, his long coat blocking me, the guard, and the bag from the rest of the crowd. Gratitude rushed through me.
“You do realize,” he drawled softly in my ear, “that a vibrator’s not going to help the Itch? You need a willing
My gratitude dried up in an instant. Yep, my day had just gotten even worse than before.
Before I could burst into tears, the security guard crammed my things back into the bag and shoved it into my hands. “You’re free to go, ma’am.” He touched his hat and moved down the line as fast as he could.
I let Zane continue to drape his arm over my shoulders like we were a couple until we boarded the plane. “So,” I murmured under the warmth of his large arm. He smelled like aftershave and cigars, a heavenly combination. “Why do I always end up doing whatever you tell me to, if you’re not my vampire master?” I was still
