Heather’s hair drips down along her neck; the water making the chestnut color appear almost auburn. She has shorter hair than the rest of the women in the pack. It lightly swings just above her shoulders when dry.
She’s dressed in another plain, cotton sweater, this one an oatmeal color. She’s layered it with a canvas bomber jacket over a pair of jeans. I’m jealous of those jeans. With the final touch of her hiking boots, Heather looks like a wilderness explorer, very cool and adventurous. Capable.
She steps forward and rolls up the sleeves of my red sweatshirt, while I’m still lost in coveting her jeans. I’ve already wrung out my hair and wrapped it up in the towel, but I’m hesitant to let it down to leave the shower room, as I know it’ll be freezing cold against my newly warmed skin.
Heather’s got that covered too. Attached to the wall on the left and right sides of the sink area are mini blow dryers.
“I have to warn you; my hair takes forever to dry.”
“We have some time,” she assures me.
It’s a good idea. Lord knows what Connor would say if he saw me walk around with wet hair. He’d want to protect me from death by cold or some such nonsense.
I don’t let her blow it out for me when she offers. I don’t want to encourage a queen-subject relationship between us, or between any of the pack members. Although, I’d want to rule over Athol just so I could exile her. I imagine that if Athol had a chance to run a brush through my hair I’d wind up bald.
Once I’m finished, my hair shines, back to a glory I haven’t seen in a long time. I still look worn, and Hawke’s intensely red sweatshirt makes me look like I should be waved at a bullfight, but with my hair down, shining, and untangled, at least something is back to normal.
“Very pretty. Now, we need to move,” Heather says while glancing at her watch.
Capable for sure, but the phrase no-nonsense might also describe Heather accurately. I peek one more time in the mirror before I move to follow her out. My bruises have settled since the last time I saw my reflection, the vampire’s damage less noticeable now. That pleases Gavin, I’m sure.
Gavin’s rumble flashes through my memory. This displeases me, he’d said. That was right before he held me close and helped make the terror of the vampire’s dissipate with the promise of his care. He’s done a fair job of maintaining his promises. I may not be happy about the fact that I’ll be gone from my family, but at least I’m still alive. Most of all, Liam is safe. That’s the most important thing.
Outside the bathroom, Gavin, Connor, and Hawke are already waiting. They’ve all showered as well.
Gavin’s eyes light up at the sight of me, while Connor exhales a loud gusty sigh, as if he held his breath the entire time I was out from under his protection.
“Time to shop, ladies.” Hawke says.
He gestures to the little shops lining either side of the far end of the terminal. There’s also a Taco Bell sign lit up like neon Christmas. I could use a spicy burrito with extra hot sauce. Well, maybe Subway is the better bet; pregnancy heartburn is no joke.
“I’m starving,” I admit to Gavin.
I don't want to rely on him for every little need, but I guess we’re still in the care stage, because he’s all I’ve got. I don’t have my wallet, license, phone, family, or choices. I’ve got Gavin. That’s it.
So, right now, with my inner child clamoring, “Feed me. Feed me!” I look to Gavin.
“Watch me hunt, lass,” Gavin offers.
Then he winks.
I thought his smiles were lethal, but his flirty winks are devastating. I cough a little at the internal reaction at such a simple gesture. This of course causes Connor to have his version of a mild panic attack, which equals the normal person’s extreme panic attack. He pounds my back until I beg mercy, and then he stops to slide his fingers down my neck as if checking for swelling. I jerk away from his touch.
My response makes Gavin’s grin expand to smug proportions. However, as he starts leading our little group toward the restaurants, I forgive his arrogance. I pass by Taco Bell, and instead point toward a little burger place. The group splits up, with Hawke drifting to Taco Bell, Heather sampling Asian inspired chicken, and Connor standing behind Gavin and me at the burger place.
I order the cheeseburger meal, hold the pickles, and debate on the onion rings before settling on fries. Gavin and Connor each order two of the same, though Gavin springs for onion rings. He reaches into his jeans to pull out a wallet and removes a solid black credit card. I smack it out of his hand.
“I know you’re a throwback, but the whole phone thing must have taught you something? Electronics are our enemy.”
Connor has already bent down to retrieve the card, and he hands it back to Gavin as I stare at him in anger. We can’t leave a trail. Hasn’t he ever watched any criminal on the run movie? Electronic transactions can be traced. They’re linked to accounts, and the instant withdrawal will feature a company name and location.
With all the vampires’ considerable equipment, it’s quite possible that they possess the necessary technology to track us through that credit card. Lord knows they’ve proven their ability to find us already. Nolan’s desperate face flashes in my head. I blink repeatedly and massage my temples in an effort to force his image to fade.
The cashier watches our interplay with a combination of annoyance and interest. She’s thinking I’m as crazy as I know Gavin is.
“Tis all right,” he says.
He hands the cashier the card. I refrain from knocking it from his hand once again, fuming as we wait for the food. I bet Hawke used cash.
Finally, our combos are loaded on the tray, and I stock up on sauces. Connor takes the tray, and we walk to a table.
“So, why is this OK? They’re going to trace us here,” I mutter to Gavin.
“By this point, they know where we’re going.”
“Oh.”
“We’re moving fast enough that we’ll be safe behind the Wards before they can reach us.”
“Oh,” I repeat.
So, now he’s confident. They’ve found us before, and it’s never seemed to be much of a problem for them. They knew where I was. They followed me for weeks before they abducted me. As a matter of fact, it took Gavin much more time to find me after I was kidnapped than it did for the vamps to find us after Gavin rescued me.
I’m with the losing team.
“Have you considered the possibility that someone you trust isn’t what they seem?”
Connor has a very real reaction to that question, jerking back as if I’ve struck him. Gavin seems just as perturbed, though he doesn’t appear shocked. Interesting. I think Gavin has considered more than I assumed. Though, if we do have a traitor, I hope we didn't trash our phones for nothing.
Hawke is already sitting at a table, and we join him. I see Heather is next in line at the restaurant she chose. Connor sits next to Hawke, but when I move to join him, Gavin grabs my arm and tugs me away.
“We’re going tae get some ketchup,” Gavin tells the guys.
“But we already have ket—”
“Lass, I like ketchup. A lot.”
“Ummm . . . OK.”
I don’t see why I have to help Gavin satisfy his sauce addiction, but apparently he feels this is a two person mission. Unless he’s accepted that I don’t plan on running again, yet.
“I’m not going to run if you leave me for ten seconds, Gavin.”
“What?” he glances to me, distracted by what I’ve said. Then his hand slides down to hold mine, and he says, “I know that. You’re no’ that foolish.”
Nice to know his opinion of me has risen to the point that I’m not that foolish. Way to woo a woman, Highlander.
He grabs a handful of ketchup packets and then pulls me to the entrance of the food court restrooms.
“What the heck are you doing? I’m starving here, man!” I whisper the words so I don’t attract too much attention.
“I do no’ want you tae me
ntion a traitor in front o’ the others.”
“So, you think it may be possible!”
“Aye, tis possible,” he admits.
“I don’t know whether to be relieved or worried that you’ve considered this.”
“I’m the Were version o’ royalty. I’m well versed in deception and betrayal.”
It’s obvious the thought saddens him. I’ve seen more sadness in this man in the few days I’ve known him than in people I’ve known for years. It sparks a yearning to get to know him better. He’s so real, so true. He feels everything so deeply, and that makes me feel as if I’ve been living in a fog for most of my life. Though I’m not sure I want to be exposed to the depths of pain he’s known.
“Any ideas on whom?”
Gavin’s eyes narrow, but his fingers don’t twitch. Maybe he’s gaining more control?
“You’re hungry, Natalie. We should return tae the table, before your food is cold.”
He used my name. Translation? Subject closed.
“Fine.”
I eat all of my burger and fries, as well as half of Gavin’s onion rings. It’s obvious that he ordered them for me. The men eat through their double portions as if it’s nothing. Heather ordered all meat from the Asian place. Her box is filled with different flavors of chicken, though there are some broccoli florets mixed in with her beef. It’s not a very healthy meal for the midwife who’s been doling out herb supplements to me.
I’m considering dessert, as I watch Hawke polish off some cinnamon twists, when the intercom announces that our flight will be leaving in one hour. We all stand and gather our trash, as Hawke opens his last box to reveal four mini cinnamon rolls. I take the time to try and analyze the group.
Who would turn on Gavin? He seems like a just ruler; he’s kind and compassionate. He’s got a strong sense of self-control and loads of patience. Why would anyone betray him?
I want to rule out Hawke. He’s been an ally, and he’s my only resource for modernizing the pack. Not that I intend to stay long enough to immerse them into the twenty first century, but I can at least help initiate the process while I’m with them. Plus, he’s semi generous with the sweets. He catches me staring at him devouring the rolls and offers one to me with a sigh. I accept.
I want to rule out Connor, because as annoying as his over protective nature can be, he’s dedicated. I want to rule out Heather, because she’s a midwife, and she’s not Athol. If it’s Heather, Athol will be delivering my baby, unless I can accomplish the long shot of Gavin allowing me to give birth in a hospital outside those Wards in which he’s so confident.
But despite what I want, do I have the information necessary to make any judgments? It could be anyone. It could be all of them.
The only one I can trust besides myself is Gavin.
Before heading to the boarding area of the plane, we separate for clothes and essentials shopping. I have a feeling that once we’re beyond the Wards, Gavin doesn’t plan on leaving until after the baby is born or the threat is eliminated. Forget maternity leave, we’re talking indefinite absence. I’m going to lose my job for sure.
I wonder if I should tell Gavin about the minions and their stalking escapades, or the way they were able to infiltrate my life through acquaintances like Mr. Edmunds. I wonder if he knows about the possibility of the vampires compelling others to do their bidding. Then again, he claims to be well versed in all the baggage that accompanies Were royalty, and I’m nearly positive that a strong knowledge of his vampire enemies is included in that.
I’m the only one lacking my own clothes, as the others are returning home, while I’m abandoning mine. The stores in the airport are nice, but have a distinct souvenir feel. I find the usual, “My [insert family member title here] went to Vancouver, and all I got was this lousy tee shirt,” apparel.
The entire time I’m in Scotland, I’ll be a walking advertisement for the metropolitan areas of British Columbia. Although, I must admit I do like the sweatshirts I get with the Vancouver skyline emblazoned on the front, as well as the long-sleeve tee featuring the Rocky Mountains. I hold off on more shopping though. Heather told me the layover in London will be two hours long. At least if I get some of my clothes in London, my wardrobe will have some diversity.
It feels reckless, but I don’t protest each time Gavin swipes that all-powerful black credit card. How does he even have a credit card? How did he even have the credit to qualify for the solid black card that denotes wealth? How do some of them know how to drive? How are we going to get past customs without my passport? I know nothing about this man, and for some reason, that’s starting to drive me a little bit crazy.
“Gavin?”
“Aye?”
He grunts in response, but doesn’t look up, intent on swiping his hands through racks of rain jackets. He holds up a brown jacket with a red-gold maple leaf printed on it and presses it against me for size. Satisfied it’ll be a good fit, he tosses it over his right upper arm, his makeshift hanger.
I see Connor, Hawke, and Heather waiting at the entrance to this little shop. Hawke looks to his watch, and then up at us. He holds up three fingers, indicating thirty minutes until our plane leaves.
The black card flashes out one last time for Vancouver, and Gavin signs the receipt with a flourish. His script looks dated to me, old fashioned for some reason. It’s at odds with our current environment, and causes me to rethink my need to know him.
“You wanted tae ask me something?” he asks.
“Never mind.”
I need to keep reminding myself. Temporary. This man and his secrets are temporary.
Chapter Sixteen
Wonder of all wonders, they have my passport. One of them broke into my townhouse while I was with the vampires. I’m glad not to be detained by customs and immigration, but all of this just proves that Gavin always planned on taking me back to Scotland. Was this his plan when he confronted me at the supermarket?
However, as much as I want to have an all-out throw down in the aisle of the plane, my takeoff nerves have already begun to twist my stomach into knots. Liam isn’t too happy about another plane ride either it seems.
I consider it a blessing that I only throw up twice during takeoff. After that, I lean forward in my seat, miserable and wishing for solid ground. It’s amazing how much we always want what we can’t have, and how much we take things for granted when we do have them.
At least when the pilot makes his announcements, he doesn’t sound like some yahoo who somehow managed to get a pilot’s license from an online program, and he wasn’t near as flirty when he greeted Heather as we boarded the plane. He was a little flirty, but I forgive him that, because there’s just something about Heather’s tomb raider vibe that men can’t resist.
I’m in the aisle seat, with Gavin in the middle seat beside me. He somehow managed to ensure the window seat in our row stayed empty. I think he flirted with the flight attendants and gave evil wolf eyes to all the other passengers to achieve the feat.
Now Gavin’s fingers massage along the back of my neck as we settle into our soaring altitude. His concern is so intense that I swear I can feel it weighing down my back. Connor sits across the aisle from us, and his concern is heavy too. I know he’s staring at me. His eyes haven’t left me since I sat down, but he can’t protect me on a plane. Doesn’t he realize this?
Oh, God. With each bit of turbulence I feel the need to vomit once again.
“Can’t you do some weird, ancient pressure point thing and knock me unconscious?” I beg.
I’m pitiful.
Gavin’s fingers still along my neck, and for a second I think he’s going to do it. Then he heaves out a sigh.
“I’m sorry, lass, but tis pure fiction. I would have tae place you in a choke hold and constrict your carotid artery tae achieve unconsciousness.”
“Oh.”
Star Trek, I feel deceived.
“However, pressure points are a guid idea.”
He waves down
a flight attendant and requests a motion sickness bracelet. I hear his rumbly voice above my head and then her giggle as she responds. She must find Gavin attractive, because there was definite flirt in that giggly response from her. If I wasn’t so nauseous, I think I might feel jealous.
She returns and hands Gavin something over my head, ignoring my existence. I guess I can see where she’s coming from. Gavin’s hot. Still, it soothes my nerves to have him dismiss her and lean down to me. I may or may not be imagining the huff she gives as she walks back down the aisle in her little kitten heels.
Taking my left wrist, he slides a blue elastic band on. There’s a little, white, plastic ball sewn into the inside, and he adjusts it until it presses against my inner wrist. He repeats the gesture with my right wrist. It takes some time, but Gavin is patient, rubbing soothing hands down my back and up again to massage the nape of my neck until I’m able to sit up.
“Better, Mo chroí?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“Guid. You should attempt sleep now.”
I know. I know I need sleep. What’s more, I want sleep. At the same time, the thought of closing my eyes while stuck in one my greatest nightmares is just too much to consider.
I avoid his gaze. Maybe if I shut my eyes, I can pretend to be asleep, and he’ll let it slide. The problem with that can I pretend to be asleep for the remainder of the nine some odd hour flight?
He chuckles beside me, the sound filling my mark with pleasant warmth.
“Need a kiss, lass?”
“Oh!”
I slap his shoulder, but I still feel the smile spreading across my face. He can be charming when he wants to be.
Hawke is leaning forward in his middle seat to see around Connor. He gives me a huge grin. I’m going to issue an official decree to change his name to Cheshire. The man should know better than to mess with the new royalty.
I shift in my seat to face Gavin and avoid Hawke’s meddling, matchmaking, and voyeuristic tendencies. Thankfully, Gavin’s form is big enough to block my view out the window to the open sky. Mostly.
Die By Night Page 26
