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Damien shook his head. Thankfully, the plane’s engines were loud, so no one heard.
“Are you saying that when the blast hit, it did not return you to your full human self?” he asked MF.
“Exactly. Only parts of me reverted back. For example, I can’t heal like I used to, the sun doesn’t weaken me anymore, and, well, my diet is solid. Not liquid, if you know what I mean, But I definitely don’t have my original body.”
Interesting.
She went on, “If I had to describe it, I’d say that part of me—the vampire part,” she whispered, “didn’t go away. It was put to sleep.”
Very interesting.
“I even still have these.” MF flashed a little fang.
The way MF described it, the supernatural energy had been drained from her, but the vampire framework remained intact. This could be why Bonbon was unable to suck energy from her. Her body was depleted already? He didn’t know.
“I cannot help wondering if this trafficking situation is connected to the blast.” So many random pieces had fallen in his lap: the gods asking him for a favor, the Browns’ and Newberys’ festival, Sky haunting him when no one had done so before. The flurry of random events besieging his life could not be a coincidence.
But what was the common denominator?
He went on, “Take this festival in Miami, for example. I know they’re using it to gather up immortals, but why would any corporation be involved? How does the sex trafficking fit in? Why put on such an elaborate event only to gather up what is left of the immortal community?”
Very perplexing.
The festival would be a one-day event with three headliners. It was estimated that over one hundred thousand people would attend, along with any supernatural creatures who showed up. Point was, the festival appeared to be fairly costly and complex. All that just so someone could get off on torturing a fairy? No, it did not add up.
“Maybe this has nothing to do with sex.” MF opened her bag of peanuts and popped one in her mouth.
Damien felt a light bulb turn on. Perhaps she was right. All along, he assumed the women and creatures were being used for depraved and cruel sex acts because of Sky’s articles.
But what if that was all wrong? “Sky, do you know anything about the corporation sponsoring this event? Pet, what does she say?”
“Peanut!” Pet demanded.
He gave MF a look. His bag was empty.
“Go ahead,” MF said.
He took a peanut and made the offering to his pocket.
Crunch, crunch, crunch.“Sky says she doesn’t know. But as soon as we land, she’ll check her phone.”
Whatever they found, his gut was telling him this was the final missing piece. “Sky, also try to ascertain who was at Vincente’s fundraiser. The names might give us more information.”
“She says she already checked,” Pet said. “There was nothing other than a report that Vincente died in a housefire.”
“They covered up all the deaths?” Perhaps the people behind the operation did not want to be connected to the guests. Or the governor himself was attempting to hide his brother’s illicit dealings. Both were options.
“Well, we will have our work cut out for us when we land.” Including dinner with Boris tonight at his sister’s. “And, MF, I will only say this one more time. Tonight, we take measurements, we eat, and we leave. Do not speak other than to make polite, very respectful conversation. The Russian mafia is not to be toyed with.”
“God, I wish I were still a vampire.”
“Why?” he asked.
“I hear the tastiest people are the bad ones.”
“Yes, such a shame that you cannot murder people tonight at dinner,” he said drably.
I agree. Because I’m in a murdering mood, too, tailor.
