“You’re the one pissing her off now, bloodsucker. ” Desmond crossed his arms and sneered at Holden, proving the vampire brought out the worst in him. “Maybe you shouldn’t be going either. ”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Oh my God, would the two of you please shut up and give me a second?” I covered my ears with both hands and thought soothing, happy thoughts. Things a wolf might enjoy. Frolicking through meadows. Chasing fluffy bunnies. Anything to distract her from the maelstrom of testosterone across the room.
They zipped their lips, but the loaded glares kept zinging back and forth like invisible bullets. I stepped between them, taking the packed Coach weekend bag out of Holden’s hand and turning my back to him so I could face Desmond.
“Des, I love you. ” I cupped his warm chin, scratching his stubble until I got a grin out of him. Leaning in close, I planted a kiss on his lips and on each corner of his mouth. “I want you to come. I wish you were with me all the time, I hope you know that. ”
He offered a tight smile, telling me he didn’t completely believe what I was telling him. “Okay,” he said, which wasn’t the same as a yes.
“And when I come back, I promise I won’t leave your side again for months. ”
Holden scoffed audibly behind me.
“Sure,” Desmond replied. Apparently Holden’s dismissive noise was more credible than my actual assurances. Who could blame him, though? It’s not like I’d been the most reliable girlfriend in history.
I’d almost married someone else.
“At least she told you she was leaving this time,” Holden offered.
Helpful.
Chapter Eight
“No. ” I crossed my arms and gave Ingrid a venomous glare, taking several steps away from the cargo hold of the small jet.
Heat from the running engines added to the sweaty summer air, making me extra hot, but just one glance inside the cargo area was all it took to fill me with cold dread.
Holden was sitting on the edge of the space, his legs dangling down and an all-too-bemused expression on his face. He seemed to take great pleasure in seeing me uneasy.
“I don’t understand the problem,” Ingrid said, as humorless as a schoolteacher speaking to an insolent child.
“You can’t lock me in the trunk. ”
Sig’s daytime servant sighed, rolling her eyes, and cast a help me glance upwards. She was built like a farm girl, sturdy even in her small stature, and although she was human she projected a clear don’t mess with me vibe to all the vampires she encountered. Her long straw-blonde hair was in pigtails, making her look like a teenager. A seven-hundred-year-old teenager who was used to getting her way.
And she currently expected me to listen to her directions.
The cargo hold was in the tail of the plane, accessible through a pitifully small door. Given the slight size of the jet there wasn’t a lot of need for a larger compartment. But it was big enough for two coffins.
Not. Fucking. Happening.
I didn’t care what Sig was expecting from me, I wasn’t climbing into a coffin.
“No. ”
Standing on the tarmac at Teterboro Airport in New Jersey might not have been the most ideal place to have an argument about being shipped in a coffin, but we’d been left on our own for the time being, and I was assured our human pilot was in the know. The benefit of a private jet was we could avoid a larger airport and a lot of the questions that went along with transporting coffins.
Coffins I would not be traveling in.
“This isn’t optional. ” Ingrid tapped the metal ladder leading up to the cargo hold.
“Why can’t we lightproof the interior?”
“That would be all well and fine, but how would we get you off the plane in Los Angeles? In daylight?”
I looked from Ingrid to Holden, and my vampire wasn’t helping. “It’s not so bad,” he told me.