the texts and he nods. He’s tense, and I understand. We won’t relax until we’re on a plane, far away from here.
I wonder if it’s too early to call Anna. I try to imagine what sort of shenanigans Blake got her into last night. You’ve never partied until you’ve partied with the son of Envy.
I dial her number and lie back, grinning at the sound of her husky, hungover, half-asleep voice when she answers.
“Hello?”
I sigh and focus on her voice. I can’t wait to get home to her.
The rest of the trip is a blur. After Zania bathes and dresses she refuses to speak to us again. Kope miraculously manages to get her to eat three bites of warm flatbread from his fingers.
I don’t need to be a child of Duke Astaroth to see there’s a bond between those two. I let him take care of Z for the remainder of the trip, only getting involved when absolutely necessary. He knows how to deal with her in the way that she needs, and I don’t care for another black eye.
Flynn shows up at the Damascus airport, completely ragged, just before our flight. He’s got a rip in his shirt, and the corner of his beard has started to peel off. I point him straight to the loo to fix himself, glad he’s okay.
When we land in Amsterdam later that day we all change out of our Arab getups into Western wear. Scanning for whisperers and seeing none, we clap Flynn on the back and he goes his separate way, off to do some traveling around Europe before returning to Australia.
Zania looks frail in her loose jeans, as if she can’t manage to stand straight, but it’s clear what a beautiful woman she’ll be when she’s well. Her arms are crossed and she taps her foot furiously as she stares into the tax-free store, her gaze locked on the bottles of liquor. Kopano steps between her and the glass, and she narrows her eyes, which are no longer swollen. They’re now big and dark brown and full of fire. Kopano seems to be drawn to those eyes, though he’s clearly not at ease with her dire need for alcohol.
They stare hard at each other, connected, as if they might break into a round of intense sex right against the duty-free shop. That’d be a show. I bite my tongue against the urge to laugh and tell them to get a room. Saint Kopano would die of humiliation if I said that.
I’m glad when our flight is called. One step closer to seeing Anna again.
During our flight, an attendant sees Zania hunched over, hugging herself, shaking and groaning. Kope tries to play it off as motion sickness, but the flight attendant still seems worried. It certainly looks like an emergency to anyone with eyes.
Kope even tries to rub her back to put on a good show, but Zania yanks away with a yelp. Yeah, these two are going to get this plane grounded if they’re not careful. It’s time for me to work my charm.
I smile up at the frowning attendant and beckon her nearer. She’s probably late twenties. European. She swipes her eyes over me, and a great deal of her worried aura lightens, suddenly forgotten. She leans down and I sit up taller to get closer as I whisper.
“Between us,” I say, “I think my mate’s lady is up the duff, if you know what I mean.”
Her eyes widen and she pats her stomach with question.
I nod. Grin. “They haven’t announced it yet, but I’m fairly certain. She’s not been herself for a bit, but it’s nothing to worry about, luv. She’ll be fine.”
I wink for good measure. Then wet my lips. Her aura pops red, and my body reacts without permission.
No, I remind myself, feeling guilty.
“Well, all right then,” the flight attendant says, brushing a hand down my shoulder and arm. My body tightens and I’m holding my breath. “If you need anything, let me know.” She dips closer. “Anything at all.”
Go away, go away, go away, and for the love of all things holy don’t touch me again.
I give her a nod and she finally turns to go up the aisle. A quick glance to the side finds Kope and Zania both glaring at me. I suppose they didn’t care for the pregnancy bit, but oh well. They should be grateful. I exhale and close my eyes.
At some point Zania nods off, still bent over, and her head