Page 18 of Dead Perfect


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“Do you think I could have one for my parents?” she asked.

“Certainly,” he said. “Pick whichever one you want.”

Ronan paid for the photographs and they left the studio.

“I thought you only needed one picture for the book jacket,” she remarked as they walked to the car.

“We do,” he said. “The other three are for me.”

“Oh.” She didn’t know what else to say. It was incredible that he wanted her picture. Incredible and flattering.

She was getting into the car when she noticed that Ronan was still standing on the sidewalk, staring at something across the street.

Following his gaze, Shannah saw a blond-haired man standing on the opposite curb. He was staring at Ronan.

“Is that someone you know?” she asked when he finally got behind the wheel.

“In a manner of speaking.”

“I take it he isn’t a friend of yours.”

Ronan grunted softly as he started the car and pulled away from the curb.

Shannah glanced out the back window. The man was still standing on the curb, staring after them.

“Who is he?”

“No one of importance. We’ll be leaving for Los Angeles tomorrow night.”

“So soon?”

He nodded.

“I’ve never been on a plane before.”

“Are you afraid of flying?”

“I don’t know.” She grinned at him. “I guess we’ll find out tomorrow night.”

Chapter Nine

Shannah hadn’t expected to be afraid of flying. After all, people did it every day. They had gotten through security all right, although she had thought taking off her shoes was a bit much.

At any rate, they had made it safely through security and boarded the plane. She was surprised to find that Ronan had purchased a row of first-class seats for the two of them. He indicated she should sit by the window.

She hadn’t been the least bit nervous during boarding but now that she was actually on the plane, in her seat, she was suddenly very, very scared.

Planes crashed all the time. And then there was the ever-constant threat of hijackers and terrorists. She knew she would never forget the sight of those two airplanes flying into the Twin Towers, or the nightmare images that had followed. She had been in bed, asleep, when her father called that morning. She had listened in stunned disbelief while he told her what was happening. Relieved that her parents were all right, she had turned on the television and watched, bewildered and horrified, as what was happening in New York City was played over and over again. It seemed as if the very fabric of time had been rewoven that day. There was the world before September 11th, and there was the world after. It was a day she knew she would never forget, a day when the impossible became possible and America realized it was no longer invulnerable.

Even now, years later, airport security was stringent. The lines had been long. By the time they made it through security, she felt more like a criminal going to prison than a passenger going cross-country. Most of the other travelers endured the hassle without grumbling too much. She didn’t have any carry-on baggage other than a book, and neither did Ronan. While waiting in line, she had asked him if he had a photo ID, since she wasn’t sure if vampires could be photographed, but apparently it was no problem, since he had a driver’s license with his picture on it.

She glanced at the other people on board the plane. None of them looked like terrorists. None of them seemed particularly worried about the flight. People were chatting with their companions, adjusting their seats, reading, or simply staring out the window. Was she the only one wishing she were somewhere else?

“Shannah, is something wrong?”

“No, why?”

Ronan tapped one finger on the back of her hand. Looking down, she saw that her knuckles were white where she was gripping the edge of her seat.

“I guess I am a little nervous all of a sudden.”

She quickly decided that nervous didn’t begin to explain how she felt. She was excited by the prospect of flying, and terrified at the same time.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” Ronan said reassuringly.

“Except crashing.”

“I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Like you could stop it.”

“Trust me, Shannah. Whatever happens, you’ll be all right, I promise you.”

She stared at him. How could he make such a promise? Sincere as he sounded, if the plane went down, there wasn’t anything he could do to stop it.

Her heartbeat quickened when she heard the captain’s voice saying they had been cleared for takeoff. She remembered reading somewhere that most plane crashes occurred during takeoffs or landings. This was it, she thought as the plane taxied down the runway. There was no turning back now. Fingers in a death grip on the arm-rest, she closed her eyes and prayed like she had never prayed before.

The plane picked up speed and suddenly it felt like she was floating.

“You can relax now,” Ronan said. “We’re in the air.”

Opening her eyes, Shannah glanced out the window. The ground grew farther and farther away, the lights of the city faded into little yellow dots far below.

“Weren’t you even a little scared?” she asked.

He chuckled softly. “Takes more than a plane lifting off to frighten me.”

She regarded him curiously. “What does frighten you?”

He looked at her thoughtfully a moment, then shook his head. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” she asked skeptically. “Come on, everybody’s afraid of something.”

“I used to be afraid of a lot of things,” he admitted. “But not anymore.”

“Well, when you were afraid,” she said, “what were you afraid of?”

“Being alone. Dying. Going to hell.” He wondered briefly if the fires of hell could possibly be as painful as the touch of the sun’s light on preternatural flesh. “The usual things mortals are afraid of.”

“Mortals?” She lifted one brow. “As opposed to those who aren’t mortal?”

“As opposed to dogs and cats,” he answered smoothly.

“Sometimes I wonder about you,” she muttered.

“What do you wonder?”

She made a vague gesture with her hand. “You never told me how you found my apartment.

Sometimes it seems like you can read my mind. I never see you during the day. I’ve never seen you eat or drink anything. I mean, it’s like…”

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