could attack us at an airport, and it also meant we got to travel in style. Each jet was smaller than a commercial plane, but the seats were cushy and had lots of leg room. They extended far enough back that you could practically lie down to sleep. On long flights, we had little consoles in the seats that gave us TV movie options. Sometimes they'd even break out fancy meals. I was betting this flight, however, would be too short for any movies or substantial food.
We left late on the twenty-sixth. When I boarded the jet, I looked around for Lissa, wanting to talk to her. We hadn't really spoken after the Christmas brunch. I wasn't surprised to see her sitting with Christian, and they didn't look like they wanted to be interrupted. I couldn't hear their conversation, but he'd put his arm around her and had that relaxed, flirty expression that only she could bring out. I remained fully convinced that he could never do as good a job as me of taking care of her, but he clearly made her happy. I put on a smile and nodded at them as I passed down the aisle toward where Mason was waving at me. As I did, I also walked by Dimitri and Tasha sitting together. I pointedly ignored them.
"Hey," I said sliding into the seat beside Mason.
He smiled at me. "Hey. You ready for the ski challenge?"
"As ready as I'll ever be."
"Don't worry," he said. "I'll go easy on you."
I scoffed and leaned my head back against the seat. "You're so delusional."
"Sane guys are boring."
To my surprise, he slid his hand over mine. His skin was warm, and I felt my own skin tingle where he touched me. It startled me. I'd convinced myself Dimitri was the only one I'd ever respond to again.
It's time to move on, I thought. Dimitri obviously has. You should have done it a long time ago.
I laced my fingers with Mason's, catching him off guard. "I do. This is going to be fun."
And it was.
I tried to keep reminding myself that we were here because of a tragedy, that there were Strigoi and humans out there who might strike again. No one else seemed to remember that, though, and I admit, I was having a difficult time myself.
The resort was gorgeous. It was built to sort of look like a log cabin, but no pioneer cabin could have held hundreds of people or had such luxury accommodations. Three stories of gleaming, golden-colored wood sat among lofty pine trees. The windows were tall and gracefully arched, tinted for Moroi convenience. Crystal lanterns- electric, but shaped to look like torches- hung around all the entrances, giving the entire building a glittering, almost bejeweled look.
Mountains- which my enhanced eyes could just barely make out in the night- surrounded us, and I bet the view would have been breathtaking when it was light out. One side of the grounds led off to the skiing area, complete with steep hills and moguls, as well as lifts and tow ropes. Another side of the lodge had an ice rink, which delighted me since I'd missed out that one day by the cabin. Near that, smooth hills were reserved for sledding.
And that was just the outside.
Inside, all sorts of arrangements had been made to cater to Moroi needs. Feeders stayed on hand, ready to serve twenty-four hours a day. The slopes ran on a nocturnal schedule. Wards and guardians circled the entire place. Everything a living vampire could want.
The main lobby had a cathedral ceiling and an enormous chandelier hanging over it. Its floor was intricately tiled marble, and the front desk stayed open around the clock, ready to indulge our every need. The rest of the lodge, hallways and lounges, had a red, black, and gold color scheme. The deep shade of red dominated over the other hues, and I wondered if its resemblance to blood was a coincidence. Mirrors and art adorned the walls, and little ornamental tables had been placed here and there. They held vases of pale green, purple-spotted orchids that filled the air with a spicy scent.
The room I shared with Lissa was bigger than our dorm rooms put together and had the same rich colors as the rest of the lodge. The carpet was so plush and deep that I immediately shed my shoes at the door and walked in barefoot, luxuriating in the way my feet sank into that softness. We