Chasing Shadows(36)

“Yes, that will be just so easy,” Diarmid said, his tone snarky. “My son, you know as well as I that there is only the smallest percentage of our kind who are not happy in their immortality. The only one I have personally ever known to be discontent is our own dear Mida. This entire bloody journey has been a waste of time.”

“On the contrary,” I said with my eyes narrowed, Mark’s hand taking mine to keep me calm. “I’ve not been discontent with being a vampire myself, I’ve simply been discontent with one vampire in particular. Need I remind you why?”

We stared at each other for a long moment, and then Diarmid turned away from me. The rest of the ride back to the airport was spent in silence.





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Twelve





“It’s a shame, really,” Mark said as the plane lifted off.

“What’s a shame?” I asked.

He looked over at me. “Well, that we came all this way, flying seven hours across the eastern seaboard and the Atlantic ocean to such a beautiful country, and we were here only about half that. I know that the purpose of our coming was to get information, but still… I think it would have been nice to see some of Ireland while we were here.”

I nodded, watching with resignation as Diarmid grabbed Gail by the arm and hauled her into the galley, closing the door that separated it from the rest of the passenger cabin. Mark followed my gaze, leaning close to whisper, “She gonna be alright?”

I shrugged. “Can’t say for sure. It’s possible she’ll either be dead or turned by the end of the end of the flight. Nothing we can do about it, I’m afraid. He’s really angry, and it’s the only thing that will satisfy him.”

Moments later, though, the sounds emanating from the front end of the plane seemed to indicate Diarmid had had other plans all along, for we could plainly hear muffled moaning. Jake jumped up and trotted to the door, putting his ear to it to listen, and grinned widely.

“Somebody’s getting the shit f*cked out of her,” he said as he came back to join us.

Lochlan sat back with his hands behind his head, and glanced at me before saying, “It is common practice for a vampire in a rage to seek sexual release prior to feeding, my malamute friend, if he or she is unable to go on a killing spree—which of course, he cannot, for various reasons. My father will have his way with her, and when he comes he will feed.”

“At the same time?” Jake wondered.

Loch nodded. “Feeding in the midst of orgasm increases the overall pleasure the vampire experiences by a magnitude of… What would you say it is, Saphrona? Ten? Twenty?”

I pulled a throw pillow out from behind my back and tossed it across the aisle at him. My brother laughed as he easily dodged the fluffy missile, saying, “I imagine, of course, that when you do it sister, it’s incalculable, given the unique properties of your lover’s blood.”

“Lochlan, I swear you better shut your damn pie-hole!” I warned him.

His face took on an expression of woe. “But my dear sister, I have not had pie in three hundred years. I do not even recall what it tastes like.”

I glared at him while Jake and Mark laughed, and glanced over to find the latter’s sister shaking her head, her own face red with embarrassment.

After suffering the sounds of my father’s sexual interlude for about half an hour, a strangled cry was heard. Instantly both Jake and Juliette rose, but they sat again when they were reminded that there was really very little they could do to help Gail.

“I can’t believe I’m about to say this,” Jake muttered, “but I hope he turns her rather than kills her.”

“Me too,” Juliette agreed. “At least then she’ll still be alive in some form.”

I agreed with the two shapeshifters, and when Diarmid emerged some minutes later looking like a cat that’d eaten the canary, we all studiously avoided his gaze.

“Did you kill her?” I had to ask, turning to face him as he dropped into a chair.

“Planning to sic your dogs on me if I did, dear Mida?”

Jake and Juliette growled their displeasure, and were further aggravated when Diarmid laughed.

“Are you purposely antagonizing them, Diarmid? That’s hardly a way to treat guests,” I said sharply.

“They are your guests, daughter, not mine. I suggest you keep them on a short leash.”

This time Jake jumped up and took a step forward. Mark stood to block him, joined by my brother. “Take it easy man,” Mark said. “He’s not worth it. Don’t let him push your buttons.”

After a moment, Jake nodded and returned to his seat. Mark turned to Diarmid as he and Lochlan followed suit, saying, “Alright, you’ve had your fun. Back off now.”

Diarmid raised his eyebrows at Mark. “And what will you do if I don’t? Will you try to kill me, boy?”

“Enough! All of you!” I shouted as I stood. “This ridiculous display of testosterone serves no purpose except perhaps pissing everyone off. Might I remind you that we have a little more than six hours to spend in each other’s company? No more snide comments from anybody, so we can endure the rest of this flight as peacefully as possible.”

With that, I turned on my heel and headed for the galley. I found Gail propped haphazardly in the single seat of the crew rest area just beyond, her clothes askew, her torn panties on the floor. Leaning close to sniff the bite mark on her breast I detected no trace of draculin, so I grabbed her wrist and felt for a pulse while also listening for a heartbeat. It was faint and thready, but it was there. Gail was not dead and she was not in the midst of being turned.

She was just unconscious from loss of blood.

Fixing her clothes, I picked her up as carefully as I could and carried her back into the passenger cabin, where I then laid her down on the sofa, placing a pillow under her head.

“Why the devil did you bring her out here?” Diarmid asked.

I shot him a murderous glare. “Because you used her up like she was nothing, and she deserves better than that,” I snapped angrily.

Diarmid rose with a disgusted noise in his throat and walked through the galley and into the crew area, where he closed himself in away from us. After making sure Gail was in as comfortable a position as she could be, I returned to my seat across from Mark.

“Try not to take this the wrong way,” Jake said slowly, “but your father is a flippin’ dickhead.”

“That he can be,” Lochlan replied, surprising me with his agreement. Usually my brother took the neutral route when it came to our father.

“Is she alive?” Juliette asked, nodding toward Gail.

“And is she gonna stay that way?” added Jake.

I nodded. “I didn’t smell any draculin, so she’s not going to turn, and though her pulse is somewhat weak, it’s there, so I think she’ll live.”

“I’m surprised the magnificent bastard left her alive,” the malamute shifter muttered.

“Careful, friend,” Lochlan warned. “There may be times I dislike him as much as the next person, but he’s still my sire and you are a guest on his aircraft. Mind your tongue, please.”

Given the discourse of the last several minutes, I half expected Jake to argue, but he merely nodded his head and turned his attention to Juliette, engaging her in a discussion of the goings-on in their pack that she had missed for much of the last year. Because I was eager to learn more about the shifter community, I asked them to tell me about their pack. Weredogs, Jake told me, only came in the forms of breeds most closely resembling (and thus considered related to) wolves—those being Huskies, Malamutes, Akitas, Tamaskans, and German Shepherds. Because wolves considered themselves the kings of werekind, they’d claimed the term “were” for themselves (I recalled from Juliette’s explanation the other day that most other werekind had given up the term in favor of calling themselves shapeshifters) and almost never allowed “shifters” into their packs. The shepherds also practiced exclusivity, but the other four had no such qualms about mingling and forming a pack with each other, so it was not uncommon to have a mixture of the four “lesser” weredog breeds in a pack.

Mark reached across the table for my hands, and I was glad for the connection and calm holding onto him offered. I’d rather have been held securely in his arms, but this would do, I supposed, until we could get home.



*****



On home soil, the five of us filed slowly out of the airplane at 11:30 p.m. Eastern Standard Time—we had been gone less than a full day. Gail had stirred shortly before landing but was still resting on the sofa, completely confused as to how she had gotten so “ill” that she’d had to lie down. It was generous of Mr. Mackenna, she fawned in her light-headed stupor, to allow her the use of the sofa to recover. Juliette and Jake were amazed that she wouldn’t even remember having sex with him.