Jamil stared at me for a long, slow count, then said, "When Richard replaces you as lupa, I won't have to take shit from you."
"Fine, but until then, hop to it. Besides, this isn't giving you shit, Jamil. When I give you shit, you'll know it."
He gave a low chuckle. He slipped his jacket back on and picked up the trunk. It should have taken two strong men to lift it. He carried it like it weighed nothing. He walked off without a backward glance, leaving me to get the last suitcase. Zane and Cherry picked the coffin back up and walked after him. Jason shuffled after them.
"What about me?" Nathaniel said.
"Put your shirt back on and stay with the coffin. Wouldn't do to have someone make off with Damian."
"I know women who would pay me to take the shirt off," he said.
"Too bad I'm not one of them," I said.
"Yeah," he said, "too bad." He picked his shirt up off the ground. I left him sitting on the coffin in the middle of the Tarmac, shirt wadded in his hands. He looked sort of forlorn in a strange, macabre way. I felt very sorry for Nathaniel. He'd had a rough life. But it wasn't my fault. I was paying for his apartment so he didn't have to turn tricks to make ends meet, though I knew other strippers at Guilty Pleasures who managed to make ends meet on their salary. Maybe Nathaniel wasn't good with money. Big surprise there.
The van was large, black, and looked sinister. The sort of thing serial killers drive in made-for-TV movies. Serial killers did drive vans in real life, but they tended to be pale colors with rust spots.
Jamil drove. Cherry and I rode up front with him. The luggage and everyone else went in the back. I expected Cherry to ask me to sit in the middle because I was at least five inches shorter than she was, but she didn't. She just crawled into the van, in the middle, with those long legs tucked up in front of the dashboard.
The road was well paved, almost no potholes, and if you held your breath, two cars could pass each other without scraping paint. Trees hugged the road on either side. But on one side, you caught glimpses of an amazing drop-off, and on the other side, there was just rocky dirt. I preferred the dirt. The trees were thick enough that the illusion of safety was there, but the trees fell away like a great, green curtain, and you could suddenly see for miles. The illusion was gone, and you realized just how high up we were. Okay, it wasn't like Rocky Mountain high, but it would do the job if the van went over the edge. Falling from high places is one of my least favorite things to do. I don't clutch the upholstery like in the airplane, but I'm a flatlander at heart and would be glad to be in the lower valley.
"Do you want me to drop you at the police station or take you to the cabins first?" Jamil asked.
"Police. Did you say cabins?"
He nodded. "Cabins."
"Rustic living?" I asked.
"No, thank God," he said. "Indoor plumbing, beds, electricity, the works, if you aren't too particular about the decor."
"Not a fashion plate?"
"Not hardly," he said.
Cherry sat very still between us, hands folded in her lap. I realized she wasn't wearing her seat belt. My mother would be alive today if she'd been wearing hers, so I'm picky about it. "You're not wearing your seat belt," I said.
Cherry looked at me. "I'm squashed enough without the seat belt," she said.
"I know you could survive a trip through the windshield," I said, "but having you heal that much damage would sort of blow your cover."
"Am I supposed to be playing human?" she asked.
It was a good question. "For the townsfolk, yeah."
She fastened her seat belt without any more arguing. The wereleopards had taken me to heart as their Nimir-ra. They were so glad to have someone act as protector, even if it was just a human, that they didn't bitch much. "You should have told me we were trying to blend in. I'd have dressed differently."
"You're right; I should have said something." Truthfully, it hadn't occurred to me until just that moment.
The road spilled down into what passed for flatland here. The trees were so thick that it was almost claustrophobic. There was still a gentle swell to the land, letting you know you were driving over the toes of mountains.
"Do you want us to wait for you outside the station?" Jamil asked.
"No, you guys sort of stand out."
"How are you going to get to the cabins?" he asked.
I shook my head. "I don't know. Taxi?"