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“But for me, you would do it, won’t you?”
Sweetness infused her tone, something practiced. The magic slithered from her pores and danced in the air, subtle yet lowering its net around the man, whose shape in her unseeing eyes was easy to follow. She felt the moment it clicked, felt her body weakening slightly. But the triumph was there, flaring, no matter how small the victory.
“Yes. A tour?”
“A tour to my specifications,” she clarified firmly, holding on to that sweet tone. “How about in half an hour?”
There was a dazed yes, then more affirmative words as she guided him to prepare gear and whatever was needed. When he excused himself, Daria had a little celebration in her head, then waited while feeling around for the helmet and the parachute bag. She transferred her backpack to her front and waited for footsteps to come back…then kept waiting until impatience blossomed and had her trying to recall where he went.
Brightness disappeared from the horizon, indicating the sun had set. But lights inside the hangar didn’t replace it, puzzling her as she felt around and wondered why it felt so empty. The cigarettes and mint were gone no matter where she turned, replaced by alcohol, more fuel, and…rust.
Not rust. Blood.
Her body iced over. The buzz of danger didn’t come, but she knew without a doubt that it was near and would be coming for her soon. She took a step back, then stilled when the realization hit her that they could have already surrounded her without her knowledge. She needed to get out. She needed to get away—
A hand clamped over her mouth.
“We need to go.”
He didn’t smell of soap this time, but the forest that he belonged in was there in his essence, ensuring this was really him. Charlie. She tried to turn, but he was still speaking in a low, urgent voice.
“There are vampires in the hangar behind this one. They were ambushing a shifter, but his reinforcements have come. It’s a goddamn bloodbath.”
Oh. Not her. They didn’t come for her. But heavens, why did she have the worst of luck?
“Mr. Ramirez,” she whispered. “I entranced him. He needs to get out—”
“It’s too late for him.”
It struck her chest hard, a weight that kept sinking into her stomach. Even so, her feet were already moving, used to loss and the harshness that befell them at any second.
“He was human.”
“Wrong place, wrong time. Come on.”
There was no time to argue, not when the scent of blood became accompanied by something else: growls and grunts, then heavy bodies crashing against each other. Hisses flourished.
She ran with Charlie and didn’t look back.
“How did you even find me?”
“Childhood friends, Daria. I know how your brain works. Sometimes.”
Translation: Lucky guess. Or….
“Do you have a tracker on my phone?”
“It only works when there’s a signal, which you probably won’t have when you get stuck in parts of that mountain. But to answer your question, yes.”
“Sneaky.”
“Practical,” he corrected.
And he was right. The scent of fuel disappeared as he ushered her inside a car and drove away until they were surrounded by voices, honking horns, and the hustle and bustle of the city folks. They parked somewhere close to mud and laughter, then silence, where she rolled her shoulders and couldn’t help feeling at a loss.
“Well, flying’s out of the picture now.”
Charlie’s next words astounded her.
