“Scandinavian.”
“Swedish, Danish, or Norwegian?”
“No.” He said. “All of them. My brothers, spent so much time traveling, fighting to be clear, that their accents are intertwined, as is mine, though I blame the British for that.”
I rolled my eyes, “Seriously, what did the British do to you?”
“Their English caught on way too fast.” He frowned, tracing his finger over the glass of water that neither of us drank. “And it killed the need for Latin and Greek.”
“Much of English stems from both of those languages, though.”
“Yes, but it is like drinking from deer instead of the real source,” he replied, and I watched his eyes narrow on the steward in front of him.
His grey irises went directly to her neck. The thought of what he might do made my mouth water instead of making me worried about the safety of the woman in front of us. Causally, his eyes drifted to me. “Are you worried or hungry, Druellea? Your scent shifted.”
“I was fine until you said something.” I looked away from her. But then I thought of what it would be like if we both drank from her.
No! That would most definitely kill her!
But the image of Theseus across from me drinking as I did, her sweet blood pooling in both of our mouths was…
“Druella.” He growled, gently placing his hand on my thigh. “Think of something else. As much as I think I would enjoy whatever it is on your mind, should we indulge, it may cause the other vampires to lose control.”
“I’m fine,” I lied, his hand was warm, very warm and still very much fixed on my inner though.
Reaching for the remote, he was able to close the doors of our first-class pod and shift the seat back.
“What are you doing?”
He didn’t stop until both of our beds were flat like a mattress, the middle divider pulling back into the pod, so there was no space between us. He tossed the remote onto the shelf by the T.V. screen in front of us before laying back. I stared down at him, and he stared up at me.
“Let your hair down, and lay beside me,” he demanded.
I wanted to think of something witty to say back or just be defiant, but I had nothing and slow
ly did what he asked, running my hand through my curls a bit before lying beside him. He reached over and brushed a few curls my face.
“How did you know how to operate this thing?” I whispered.
“I listened as the woman explained the directions, didn’t you?” He questioned.
No, I hadn’t. “Unlike you, I was a bit too stunned by how the rich travel to pay attention.”
He thought for a moment. “The rest of the plane is not like this?”
“Theseus…” I just laughed shaking my head. “No. No, it’s not. We are in first class. There is a difference just like there were with carriages.”
“You could have said trains; I do remember those, also,” he replied.
“Yes, and trains.” I moved closer to him, my feet touching his foot, too. “So, it seems no matter what century, country, or the innovation, the wealthy are never equal.”
“Shall this be your cause, young revolutionary,” he teased. “Making sure there is equality.”
“Nothing can ever change the advantages of being rich,” I replied, reaching over and brushing a strand of his black hair from his forehead. “That is a useless cause.”
“If only someone had told that to the French before they began their beheadings,” he muttered.
The way he said that made me wonder. “You were there? During the French Revolution?”