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But the hands around her didn’t let go. Diego. Diego was hugging Riva in his lap, his body twisted in a way that protected her from the fall.
“I’m sorry,” the man muttered. “It was the best excuse I could come up with.”
“You sold us out,” Riva mused.
“Not on purpose. I was buying time.”
“I can see that.” And based on the tone, Daria understood that Riva was just starting to see it. “You blocked that man from attacking me…stepped in the way of that other one.”
“They were going to kill you.”
Oh, but this was rich, and she wanted to listen to more. But Sona cleared her throat.
“Well, I think it’s safe to say we did what we needed to do to get out of there and we succeeded. So…nice job, everyone.”
Riva still didn’t move. “Diego…”
He leaned in, just a tiny bit. He straightened, tugged her up, and stepped to the other end, where Malifeskos was sitting quietly.
“The sun’s about to rise,” Diego announced.
Oscar held out an arm. “Do you need blood?”
The vampire hissed and turned away, ignoring everyone. A low chuckle hummed in her ears, and Daria had to bite back a shiver.
“He’s right,” Charlie said. “The sun’s coming up and we need to get out of here before more trouble comes. Let’s head back to the city now.”
Again, Sona cleared her throat. “One problem.”
“What?”
“I don’t think we are even in the city anymore.”
It didn’t take them long to figure out that yes, they were in another state altogether, and driving to get to their state would take days, encourage ambushes, and just wasn’t safe for a ragtag group of semi-powerful beings. So, they booked flights instead and were on the first one just as the sun rose, with Diego tucked at the back with an extra layer of coat and more ready for landing. Daria settled in hers, half-glad that the harrowing journey was over…half-afraid of what was next.
“I hate flying.”
Charlie’s words were the perfect distraction. She glanced at her side, where she had tried not to look when they had boarded. But now she couldn’t stop looking at him, from the black coat that hid the body she wanted to see to the long, unruly locks that fell on his forehead.
“Your hair is red,” she blurted out. Dumbfounded, she ogled it and watched it grow redder by the second. “It’sreallyred.”
“Yes.” The nerves in his tone earlier became light and amused. “I’m a redhead…wait. You see it?”
“Yes. A bit. Not your face.” And that was a shame. “I will see more next time.”
He was silent at her determined statement, and she deduced he was worrying over the flight again.
“What else did he say?”
Daria considered keeping it a secret at first but knew it would eat her alive. So, when the plane had taken off—and Charlie stopped clutching the armrest as if he would break it—she let out the words she had been keeping so tightly sealed in her heart.
“He said that I come from a rare, ancient line. That I might be evil.”
He jerked up. “What?”
“And that I could stain his gift.”
“Wait, back up. Tell me what happened.”
