Once I would’ve blown off this conversation. Too hard. Major chance of a marshmallowy aftertaste. Now I stuck with it. Although I did entertain the fleeting thought that personal growth sucks. “Every time I think I’m ready to move on, something happens to remind me of him. That’s one part of it. But it’s not the hardest.”
“What’s the rest?”
“I guess I’m more superstitious than I realized. One corner of my brain is convinced that if I make some big announcement, that’ll be the same as a challenge.”
“To who?”
“I don’t know. God? Fate? Whoever thought it was okay to wipe out everybody I really cared about in the first place.”
“First of all, that chapter of your life was written by Aidyn Strait. He was the vampire who killed your people, and nobody else should get the credit. Also, don’t you think you’re exaggerating? Just a little?”
Where did Cole get off with the superior attitude? “I have no idea what you mean,” I snapped.
“Your brother survived that massacre.”
“Only because he was already in the hospital.”
“What about your sister? Don’t you love her?”
“You’re missing my point.”
“I don’t think so. Look, I’m not trying to undercut your loss. It was huge. I’m just saying, maybe you’re not seeing it clearly because it was so horrific to start with.”
“Did you want me to answer your question or not?” I growled.
“Well, yeah.”
“That’s all I’m doing. I’m telling you that I’m not anxious to make anything official between me and Vayl. Because I think that if I do he’ll die.”
Cole smiled. “By that logic, you should date me, then.”
“What?”
“Think about it. Why would Fate want to turn Vayl into vapor if It thought you and I were getting busy?”
“That’s nuts.” menuts.”<
He leaned over and kissed me,
When he sank back into his seat nothing was left to block my view of Albert. In the time since Vayl had settled beside him, my dad had managed to extort another bag of peanuts from the flight attendant. I watched him pop them into his mouth one by one and chew them without once closing his lips, so that the sound of his masticating between complaints about his favorite team’s lame-ass secondary bounced off the curved walls of the Embraer like the wet plopping of a knife slicing through layers of bloated animal skin.
I stuck my fingers in my ears and glued my eyes to the window. The landscape should’ve cheered me. The green fields and thick trees that surrounded Dalcross Airport had always lifted my spirits. They were the part of the landscape that reminded me most of home. But the deep blue of the Moray Firth flowing off into the North Sea let me know I’d come a long way from Ohio. As did the knowledge that if we turned this plane just a touch to the west and kept flying we’d be sweeping into the Highlands, where peaks with names like Liathac and Ben Dearg made you think of the old gods. The ones who probably still lolled among the mountains, gouging out grooves with their elbows and asses, joking about how the mountaineers would have a fine old time ascending their dirty new cracks. Yeah, my sense was that they had the humor of thirteen-year-old boys. Except for the goddesses, who had none.
Since Vayl was with me on this trip, the fact that I could see anything besides runway lights and the sparkle of a growing city should’ve seemed miraculous. But I was too disturbed to get all slobbery about the reason he’d begun to wake early, which had everything to do with his way-cool ability to suck another vampire’s powers into his permanent arsenal. During our last mission, his former nestling had tried to make their arrangement eternal. She’d literally shoved Vampere magic through him, forcing him to stay awake through an entire day. The process had left him changed. Now he woke at least three hours before dark and stayed up about that long after the sun had risen.
This can be a problem for a guy who sizzles in the sun.
Enter Bergman, our tech consultant, whose genius had saved our asses so many times I’d considered tattooing his name on mine. He’d come up with a lotion that temporarily blocked the sun’s rays so Vayl could at least walk from building to building without frying. Unfortunately it darkened his skin so radically he looked like he’d fallen asleep inside a tanning bed.
I looked over at him now, wondering how the hell we were going to pull off this mission with so many variables to control. Then his eyes met mine. And when they lightened to amber I knew that as long as we stuck together, nothing could stop us.
Chapter Three
Driving is my thing. Not only do I kick ass behind the wheel, but I love controlling thousands of pounds of road-eating people-hauler with little more than a twitch of the pinky. I had planned on playing chauffeur out of Dalcross, since the route to Tearlach—Floraidh Halsey’s bed-and-breakfast—mappednt „ “tricky” when you typed in the address. But Jack turned out to be a fearful flyer and needed major comfort. As soon as I transferred him from pet carrier to leash he ducked between my legs, which meant I practically rode him to the urine-yellow Alhambra we’d rented. Actually, I could’ve hopped on and he wouldn’t have noticed. He weighs twenty more pounds than I do. And eats twice as much. We won’t even discuss the pooping. Gawd.
Yeah, I know, I’d said I was gonna adopt him out to a good home after I killed his master on my last mission. Samos had loved the malamute more than anything or anyone else he’d ever known. And why not? He was a fabulous dog. Good humored. Obedient. Smart and sensitive. I could go on, but I’m pretty sure I’d start sounding
