Gaslight (Crossbreed #4)(95)
I shifted my weight, my leg tingling back to life. “Tell me more about the auction. Is our primary goal to save this girl or take down the operation?”
Viktor removed his aviator sunglasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “We have no information on her identity, but the auction ad implied she’s the daughter of a prominent man. The Vampire elders do their best to oversee the selections for a purpose. Not only to control the population, but to prevent these kinds of… What is the word I seek?”
“Asinine decisions,” Blue offered, her eyes still closed.
“Most criminals are not foolish enough to choose celebrity figures.”
“I should have been an actress,” I quipped.
Viktor turned in his seat to look at me. “A celebrity presence in our world draws attention to us. The seller was captured, but we suspect that maybe the buyers are making bold requests, perhaps targeting specific people.” He faced forward and put his sunglasses back on. “Stay alert. We have no standing with the local Councils here, so follow my lead at all times.”
I glanced out the window at the landscape. Ice weighed down the trees, and snow covered the ground. “Maybe the airport’s closed because of bad weather.”
“Breed airports never close.” Viktor groomed his beard for a moment before retrieving his brown jacket from the floor.
Christian made a slow turn down a long road. The snowdrifts looked a few feet deep, but the rest of it must have been gradually melting away because of the above-freezing daytime temperatures. Along most of the flatland, dead grass poked out from the top of the snow.
Blue finally sat up and looked around when a small commuter plane flew directly over our head.
I peered through the back windshield to get a closer look. “Are you kidding me? I thought this was an airport with private jets. That’s a toy plane with a propeller.”
Viktor zipped up his coat. “I’m prepared to rent a plane if we have to travel from here. Can anyone fly?”
“I’ve flown a kite before,” Christian said.
Blue raised her hand. “I can fly!”
I yanked my trench coat out from beneath me. “You guys are a real comedy act.”
We entered a parking lot surrounded by several small one-story buildings.
Viktor collected a pair of gloves that Blue handed him. “Spasibo. I only tease, Raven. I know how to fly a plane.”
Viktor could barely operate a blender, so that concerned me. “Are you licensed?”
A chuckle rose in his throat as he got out of the car. When the door shut, Viktor tossed back his head and laughed.
It was one of those bright afternoons with lots of haze, as if the sun were still lying in bed with the covers half on. Both Viktor and Christian wore black knit hats, and Christian made sure to correct me when I called them beanies. Apparently in Canada, they’re tuques. He never missed an opportunity to educate me.
I walked behind Christian to shield myself from the biting wind. His unbuttoned trench coat opened, the tail flapping behind him. The landing strip must have been on the other side of the main building, because I could hear a plane engine sputtering. I spotted a few hangars, but Viktor had no interest in scouting the property.
Sheets of metal covered the main building—no windows that I could see. It looked more like a warehouse, and when we reached the glass door, we hustled inside.
“Wow. I wasn’t expecting this,” Blue muttered.
Inside, absolute luxury. It reminded me a little of a casino, only not garishly decorated. The outside of the building was deceptively dull, and I’d expected the inside to look like the waiting room at the DMV. The greyish carpet beneath our feet had circular patterns, and it appeared to cover the entire room. Straight ahead on the far side were tall windows that spanned the entire wall and gave a view of the planes taxiing from the runway. On our immediate left, two men were typing away on computers at an S-shaped counter. Maps covered the wall behind them, and a flat-screen television had the local news on. They gave us a cursory glance, so Viktor and Christian went to have a chat with them.
I scoped out my surroundings—a survival instinct I’d picked up long ago. The building was rectangular and all open. The only area well lit was the eatery on the right side. There were leather couches and chairs in the center, but it looked like the left side was where people liked to hang out. It had a bar, but not the kind you sit at. People just took their drinks back to the tables. The lighting was also dim, and there was a jukebox and the television for entertainment. I always found it amusing how jukeboxes were standard in most Breed places. It was an attraction that set them apart.
Blue and I strode to the windows ahead. A flush of heat prickled my skin, so I unzipped my jacket, my gloves still tucked in my coat pockets.
I counted fourteen heads, excluding workers. Everyone was gathered in small groups, coats strewn over the backs of chairs, gloves on the tables, and drinks in hand. A few of them gave us stony looks, leaving me to wonder if they were locals who came in for the drinks or passengers waiting on a ride.
Hopefully none of them were the pilots. Especially the big fellow in the red flannel shirt, who was trying to entertain the crowd by blowing on empty bottles.
We reached the windows and admired the view of the airfield. I watched a little white plane speed along the runway, going left to right until it lifted off.
I turned around, my back to the glass, and scoped out the room once more for Vampires. “Do you think they’d risk bringing a woman here with all these people?” I asked quietly.