Hotbloods

by Bella Forrest

  “But then, who shot at us?”

  “I don’t know.” His hands balled into fists. “How did everything get so screwed up so quickly? Maybe I should’ve ended him like I did his father. I just… I couldn’t…”

  “No, no,” I said softly, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder. I could see his conflicting natures grappling, and it made me want to comfort him. “You did the right thing, Navan. He was your best friend. You did the right thing by giving him the benefit of the doubt. I witnessed firsthand during Ianthan and Jethro’s conversation that Ianthan’s heart hadn’t been in it.” But how did that add up with his behavior now, if he really had escaped?

  I could see how hard the idea was for Navan to swallow—to have his best friend betray him not once, but possibly twice. Ianthan had promised to stick around and help with whatever course of action Navan chose next.

  I gulped, wondering, if Ianthan had indeed deliberately escaped, what he would do next.

  I hesitated before voicing my next thought, not wanting to cause Navan more pain, but also recognizing the importance of discussing it. “Do you think… Do you think he might try to beat us to the Fed?”

  Navan looked off into the distance. “I don’t know. That is apparently my new default response to everything: I don’t know.”

  “We were just talking about the Fed being your only means back to Vysanthe. What if he tries to reach the Fed before you and comes up with a way to barter himself back to Vysanthe, in perhaps a different ship, where he could carry through his father’s plan with another blood sample?”

  It did seem far-fetched, but the timing of his departure was odd—just when we had been discussing our next move. Could it really have been orchestrated?

  My head hurt from the sheer confusion of it all.

  Navan breathed out, shaking his head and standing up. “I need time to process all of this. But I think it’s safe to assume that we are in a race against Ianthan, and we don’t have a second to lose.” He paused, gazing down at me through his deep slate eyes. “Looks like it’s just you and me now.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  I wrapped my arms around Navan’s neck and my legs around his waist, and he took off again. I’d never tell him how much I had come to enjoy this particular mode of transportation, but every so often I’d glance up and our gazes would meet, before he looked off into the distance again, and, in spite of everything that had just happened, he’d have the tiniest of smiles on his face, which told me he didn’t seem to mind the extra cargo, either.

  We flew back toward his underground base. I glanced down at the café street as we soared over it, noting the flashing of a police vehicle and the gathered crowd, as they tried to make sense of the incident. I sensed eyes watching us. I was certain that we blended in with the dark sky too well for anyone below to see us, and yet, as we flew, the feeling persisted.

  Half of me was still holding out hope that Ianthan was around here somewhere, afraid of the attacker and waiting for the confidence to leave his hiding place, but he did not rejoin us in the sky, and I saw no sign of him.

  I shook the unsettling feeling aside as we landed a few feet in front of the hidden storage cupboard where Navan stored his ingredients. He stocked up on vials, piling them into his bag until it was bulging. I hoped its seams would hold together, because we had a long journey ahead of us.

  He took out a map of North America, and his compass. After a minute or two of frowning at the map and consulting the compass, he stowed the map away, and we took off again.

  “At least the Fed didn’t find the storage cupboard,” Navan said, his mouth so close to my ear I could feel his cool breath. It occurred to me that all I had to do was turn my head and our faces would basically be touching—close enough to kiss. Has he ever been kissed before? I found myself wondering absentmindedly as we flew. Of course he must have, though I doubt he’s ever kissed a human…

  “How long do you think it will take us to reach New York?” I asked, trying to distract myself from that derailing train of thought.

  “Um, I’m estimating half a day,” he replied. “Though, I’m not exactly at my peak performance, so it may take longer.”

  I glanced at his face, and noted the tired lines etched into it. I hadn’t really considered supernaturals getting tired, but now that I thought about it, Navan had been through a hell of a lot since the last time he must’ve slept (in fact, I didn’t even know when he had last slept). Not just physically but emotionally. The shock of discovering Ianthan and Jethro’s betrayal, and then his battle with them, and then flying all the way to Alaska. He hadn’t been able to doze off during the journey, like I had. He’d been so focused on getting me to Alaska, he hadn’t paid any attention to what it was that he needed.

  “Maybe we should find somewhere for you to stop and sleep a little?” I suggested, glancing toward the horizon, which was slowly but surely brightening, the first rays of the sun touching the darkness. I knew we needed to hurry now, more than ever, to get what we needed from the Fed and fix Soraya so Navan could chase after that pod, but there was some comfort in the fact that Ianthan would need to rest too, at some point—assuming we were in a race.

  I felt Navan’s chest move as he breathed out. “Maybe. But I’ll keep going for as long as I can.”

  And so he continued to soar, over ice-capped mountains and frosty white plains, until the sun peeked over the horizon, and we reached less frozen territory, more browns and greens and blues splashing to the landscape.

  I watched in wonder as Navan’s skin changed with the lightening atmosphere. It didn’t happen all at once—there was only a subtle difference at first. His skin transformed proportionately with the sun’s strengthening rays, little by little, until that gorgeous golden tan shade had returned.

  “I gotta say, that’s pretty cool,” I said.

  He smiled. “Just call me chameleon.”

  We hadn’t spoken much during the first hour of our journey, as I suspected we’d both been too preoccupied with our thoughts, but now seemed like a good time to start talking details. We were on our way to New York, and I still didn’t know how he actually planned to pull this off.

  “So what’s the plan when we get there?”

  “We’ll have to pick a public area. I’ll let you pick, since this is your homecoming. I’ll have to reveal myself—my true self—long enough to cause a commotion, but not too long. I’ll need to fly fast, so I’m mostly a blur on cameras, but distinguishable enough to get the Fed’s backs up and get them on my tail. If they’re doing their job right, they’re constantly monitoring news channels for unexplained incidents, and a city like New York would be a priority for them. Who knows, they might even have a branch there. I’ll be able to figure out the logistics better once we’ve chosen the spot.”

  “And what part would I play, exactly?”

  “We should coordinate things so that you’re the first to approach them, help soften them a little. And you’ll have to tell them a blood sample is on its way to Vysanthe—I don’t see any way around that. However, if they want to know more, they’ll need to get us a meeting with their chief of operations here on Earth. I’m hoping that sliver of information will be enough for him or her to agree to a hearing.”

  “Right,” I murmured. That made sense—tease them with information in order to get a foot in the door, rather than spilling everything at once. For all I knew, they could take that information and still not help us. I hadn’t forgotten the fear in Ianthan’s eyes at the thought of betraying his race, and invoking the Queens’ ire—we needed to hold information as close to our chests as possible, for as long as possible.

  My mind wandered back to ‘lycans,’ wondering what they looked like, how they differed from the werewolves of human lore. Hopefully, they would be more amenable to talking than Navan was when I first met him.

  We continued our journey in silence, falling back into our own thoughts. I felt Navan’s body becoming hotter—not too hot, thanks to hi
s regulating formula—but enough that I started to get stuffy beneath my coat. I unzipped it to let in more air, and felt the hard lines of Navan’s chest press directly against mine. The sudden lack of layers between us made my traitor of a heart beat faster. I tried to focus on what lay ahead.

  The sun continued to rise, bathing us in its warmth, and although it was impossible to truly get comfortable in this position, God knew how many feet above the ground without a safety belt, I figured this was probably the closest I was going to get.

  As someone who had barely traveled across a few states in her life, I had done a lot of sightseeing in the past twenty-four hours. But in spite of the breathtaking views, I sensed myself beginning to doze off beneath the sun’s comforting rays.

  Until my ears picked up on an odd noise behind us. I had grown so use to the quiet atmosphere, the only sounds being Navan’s deep breathing, and the rhythmic beating of his wings around us. But this… this was different.

  “Did you hear that?” I asked, looking over his shoulder. There was nothing other than blue sky and clouds.

  “What?” he asked.

  Maybe I shouldn’t have expected him to hear it, given what I knew about coldbloods’ senses being impaired when they became ‘hotbloods.’

  It had sounded like a grunt—loud enough to have been distinguishable to me, but fleeting enough to make me think twice and wonder if I had imagined it. I held my breath for several moments, seeing if it would return, and when it didn’t, I concluded that I had most likely imagined it.

  Still, it left me with a vague sense of unease. “It’s nothing,” I muttered, not wanting to project my own paranoia on Navan, when there was literally nothing surrounding us for miles. He had enough on his plate to worry about.

  But then, barely ten minutes later, I heard another noise—that I could’ve sworn was a distinct second pair of flapping wings.

  “Navan,” I murmured, my eyes going wide as I gazed around us. “I… I know this sounds crazy but, I feel like someone’s following us.”

  “Huh?”

  “I don’t know.” I looked around the empty sky again. “I’m hearing noises. A grunt, and then, something that sounded like another pair of wings. Maybe I’m just tired but…”

  Navan did a sudden about turn in the air. I yelped and clutched his sweater tighter as he swooped upward, and then back around in a loop, so he could get a good look behind us without losing momentum.

  “I don’t see anyone,” he said, his brow furrowing. “And invisibility is not something we coldbloods have a potion for, so it probably is your imagination.” Nonetheless, he did another loop to look around, his expression worried. “Maybe we should stop for a bit—for both of our sakes.” His head panned downward, and I realized we were approaching a dense area of buildings, nestled in a valley scattered with glistening lakes.

  I nodded, glad for the suggestion. I had sensed Navan’s speed slowly faltering. He had been doing his best to keep going, but it made much more sense to stop and rest a while, then continue with renewed energy.

  “I agree,” I said. “Even if we stop for an hour or two, it’ll do us some good.”

  I had barely said the words when his grip tightened on me, and we dipped abruptly, soaring at breakneck speed toward the town. He was aiming for a large patch of trees. We descended, touching down in a peaceful forest. He withdrew his wings beneath his sweater, which was torn from our emergency exit earlier. Then, after he had adjusted the heavy bag on his shoulder, we walked through the trees and arrived at a quiet road.

  We both looked up at the sky as we stepped out into the open. Even though my rational self knew there was nobody following us, my mind kept taunting me, making the back of my neck prickle. I needed some proper, uninterrupted sleep.

  Above us was nothing but perfect blue sky and sunshine. Even so, we found ourselves sticking to the shadows, and taking a winding path through the town. We kept beneath the awnings of stalls as we trailed through a crowded marketplace. We were in Canada, based on people’s accents. We passed a clothing stand and picked up two extra outfits for both of us, using a handful of Canadian dollars Navan had in his bag. His purchase included a new sweater, which he put on immediately, given that his torn one was attracting more attention than we wanted—especially from young tourist women. I saw them staring and heard their titters as we walked past, commenting that he didn’t look like he was from around here, one of them even asking for a photo, probably assuming he was some kind of celebrity. Navan frowned at the curvy blonde who had asked, before politely declining.

  I hung back a little and stole a once-over of Navan as we kept walking, allowing myself to quietly appreciate his… aesthetics from a distance, now that we weren’t in immediate mortal danger. Dang. It was hard not to feel like a lucky girl to have had him clutching me to his chest for the past several hours. If my nerves hadn’t been playing up so much on the journey, I would have appreciated it a lot more.

  I quickened my pace as he looked over his shoulder, frowning and wondering why I’d hung back. We continued through the town, trying to avoid attention while looking for somewhere we could crash in safety for an hour or two. We ended up finding shelter in the form of “Cricklewood House.” It was a small, cozy-looking hotel that bordered the bustling marketplace.

  It met our unspoken criteria of being inconspicuous, so we entered the reception area. Neither of us had ID, but thankfully I persuaded the owner with upfront cash. The elderly woman seemed to take pity on our tired faces and led us to a room… which I realized, as the door swung open, contained one double bed.

  “Um, actually we’re not a couple—” Before I could complete my request for a room with two single beds, she had already turned to head back down the staircase. Given that we were lucky to have a room in here at all, it was best not to push it.

  I looked at Navan, towering above me in the low-ceilinged corridor, and swallowed. We were going to have to make this work.

  We stepped inside. Pretty floral curtains were drawn against the open window, letting in a mountain breeze that carried the scent of fresh bread from the bakery next door. My eyes fell on two large bottles of water, and a basket of fruit and sandwiches on a little table in one corner of the room, and I headed there first. Sipping from the water, I realized how dehydrated I was, and downed half a bottle, before attacking the sandwiches.

  The door clicked as Navan shut it, and I glanced over at him. He stood still, gazing around our small quarters, before his eyes fell on the elephant in the room—the double bed.

  “You can sleep there,” I said quickly, before things could get too awkward. “I’ve been dozing on and off during the journey, and you need quality sleep more than me.”

  He looked a little hesitant, but didn’t argue; he was that tired. He discarded his large black boots by the door, and tugged off his sweaters—both the old one and the new one he had pulled on top of it—hanging them on a chair. My chewing slowed as I took in his deep tanned chest, the scars crisscrossing it much more visible with this lighter skin shade. He moved to the bed and lay down on one side of it—the side nearest the door—and faced the ceiling. I wanted to ask about his scars, but now didn’t seem like the right time.

  I settled deeper into my chair and resumed eating, watching as Navan made himself comfortable. He didn’t bother pulling the sheets or the blanket over him, seemingly content with the temperature; just stretched out his long legs, which caused his big feet to tip over the edge of the bed, and nestled his head into the pillows. The muscles in his arms relaxed, and he went still, except for the gentle heave and sigh of his chest.

  I finished my sandwiches slowly, my eyes alternating between the view out of the window and the… view on the bed. I ate four sandwiches and two bananas in a row, and finished the rest of the water.

  I tiptoed to the bathroom to relieve myself, before splashing water on my face and looking at myself in the mirror. It came as no surprise that I looked like a witch. Apparently, I didn’t weat
her journeys as well as Navan. Dark bags hung under my eyes, and my hair had gone static, poking up at all angles, while my skin was parched and lips dried out to the point of cracking.

  I stepped into the shower to wash my hair and scrub the general grime from my body, relishing the hot water beating down on my back. I changed into a set of the new clothes we’d picked up from the market—warm pants, a long-sleeved thermal top, and a fleecy sweater. I found a small bottle of skin cream in the bathroom cabinet and lathered it onto my face and hands, before blow drying my hair. By the time I was done, I felt perfectly ready for bed. Except, there was no bed for me to climb into, unless I planned on sharing it with a vampire.

  I opened the bathroom door. To my surprise, Navan was still awake. His eyes were open as he stared at the ceiling, but flickered in my direction as I stepped into the room.

  “Hey,” I said. “Can’t sleep?”

  “I thought I’d be out before my head hit the pillow. But I can’t get my mind to shut up.”

  I moved slowly around the bed, and sat down on the other side of it, propping my back up against the headboard and leaning against the pillows. He reached down to his bag and pulled out a silver vial. He downed it, leaving me wondering whether it was a snack of blood, or perhaps something that would help him sleep.

  I gave it a few minutes before talking again, wanting him to drift off, but although his eyelids dropped every now and then, they kept opening, as if there were something on his mind that was keeping him from shutting down.

  Eventually, he turned on his side and looked at me. “What else did you overhear, in that conversation between Ianthan and his father?” he asked.

  “Oh, um. I didn’t overhear much because I wasn’t listening for long, but…” I ran through in my mind what I had already told him, trying to sift out the pieces of new information. I realized there was something important that had been troubling me. I hadn’t had a chance to think about it much with so many other distractions. “Jethro said that Vysanthe will find out about Earth and humans sooner or later—that it’s only a matter of time before they crack the ship technology, like you and Jethro did. So his argument was that they might as well benefit from the discovery of human blood being the elixir Vysanthe seeks, as it was going to happen anyway.”