Lucian insisted on loaning us his private jet for the flight to Paris and as I board the beautiful craft with its elegant champagne booth seats and roomy, expertly decorated cabin, I can only think that I've about had it up to here with these rich ass vampires.

Then the stewardess brings me a mimosa and a brunch menu and I decide I can probably get used to it. I’m just being a cranky bitch since I had to meet Lucian’s future father-in-law after no sleep, a million feelings buzzing around my head, and anxiety about where we’re headed.

It's a long flight, five or six hours, and we settle in to relax for most of it, dozing and sipping the seemingly endless supply of drinks provided by the stewardess. I shouldn't be surprised that they have blood on the menu, this being Lucian's plane, but it's a nice surprise anyway. I haven't had a good drink since the day before yesterday.

Reina takes the booth across from me. On the other side of the aisle Row takes up an entire booth himself, sprawled out napping again. It appears to be his default reaction to travel.

Carver sits across from him, fussing with his phone, still trading details with Lucian.

"So," Reina says, quietly enough that Carver won't hear unless he's listening. "You met Lucian's future father-in-law."

I sigh, not sure I'm ready for this line of questioning.

"The good news is the fiancé didn’t show up, right?"

"Right, thank god," I mutter. "I'm not sure I could have handled that."

"He seemed nice from what I could see."

"He was nice enough, I guess," I say, shrugging. "He was a Kresova, which probably shouldn't have surprised me, but it did."

"Oh, yeah, I didn't really think about that either," Reina says, sitting back and sipping her drink. "I guess he's her sire, not actually her dad?"

"Maybe? I don't really know how it works." I shrug and swallow half my bloody mary, extra bloody, to avoid having to say more.

"I mean, at least now when you and Lucian hook up you can explain the whole vampire destiny thing to her without freaking her out," Reina says idly. I nearly spit out my drink.

"Lucian and I are not going to hook up," I say, flustered.

"What, you're not into him anymore?" Reina says with a frown. "I thought you got the whole destiny buzz?"

"Yes, I'm still into him," I groan into my hands. "But he's committed, okay? He's in love with someone else. I'm not going to fuck that up for him."

"It seems like he's pretty in to you too," Reina says, raising an eyebrow. "If he's really that into fiancé-whoever, why's he making goo-goo eyes at you?"

"First of all, he's not making goo-goo eyes," I correct her, my face red. "He's been a perfect gentleman. It's not like he's trying to hit on me. Half the time he seems afraid to even touch me. I don't think he'd even consider me if it weren't for this whole destiny mess. Which is... unfair? It feels like I'm forcing him, like he doesn't have a choice but to fuck up his relationship and his life to be with me. I don't want to do that! I don't want to be that person!"

I groan again, dropping my head onto the fold down table between us.

"So what's the plan, hun?" Reina asks, petting my hair. "If you can't be with him while he's engaged and you won't ask him to break it off, what are you going to do?"

"I don't know," I say, my voice muffled by the table. I turn to lay on my cheek instead so she can hear me. "Avoid him until destiny gets the hint and picks someone else? Someone single, and more in my league?"

"Dude…," Reina puts her head on the table in order to look me in the eye. "You're the fated Queen of Vampires who's going to overthrow an evil tyrant and shit and destiny thinks you're worth not one but three hot guys so, you know, I'm pretty sure Grumpy McStoic-face is in your league. If not like, beneath you."

I snort. I can't help it. Reina knows me too well.

"Fine, he's perfect for badass destiny me," I say. "But I'm not badass destiny me yet. And our house just burned down, so I'm also technically homeless now. And that's without even taking into account, you know, this."

I gesture vaguely at all of my generally unimpressive self.

"What?" Reina leans over to look me up and down. "The fact that you're unbelievably hot? Totally smoking? Gorgeous beyond words? The envy of millions? Fucking magazine worthy? A god damn angel walking the earth?!?"

She leans a little closer to me with each word until she's practically yelling it in my ear and I'm leaning away from her, laughing and trying to escape the booth.

"Honestly, bitch," Reina says, settling back into her seat after she's tickled me to the point of tears, Carver watching from across the aisle with a grin and a scotch and completely ignoring my cries for help. "I'm jealous as hell of you sometimes. You know that, right? You have nothing to be ashamed of. If vampires had body snatching powers I’d demand you swap with me in a heartbeat."

"Nah, you don't want me slumming around in your body," I say, still breathless from laughing. "I'd never have the patience for the whole goth thing, and I couldn't do that make up if I had a gun to my head. You'd end up in jeans and t-shirts."

"On the other hand," Reina says. "I'd finally get a chance to vamp you out like I've always wanted to. The goth lolita thing could suit you so well."

I have a sudden mental image of myself in an enormous frilly dress and a bonnet and shudder."No thank you."

"You're going to let me dress you up one of these days," Reina insists, grinning.

Carver's attention has wandered by now so she leans across the table again.

"So, have you talked with Carver about the whole you-and-two-other-guys thing?"

I nod, glad that at least had gone well.

"Yeah, it doesn't bother him," I tell her. "I think it's weirder for me than him. He's been around so long and done so much that nothing really surprises him."

"Well that's a relief," Reina says. "At least they won't be like, fighting over you. That could get bad fast."

"Agreed," I say, not liking that mental image. "I mean, it isn't going to be easy. There's going to be adjustments and compromises and a frankly exhausting amount of talking that I'm kind of embarrassed just to imagine? But I guess we'll figure it out."

"Are you excited about it?" Reina asks. "Finding Mr. Three? Being with all of them?"

"Kind of?" I admit with a sheepish smile. "I didn't think I would be at first but... It feels kind of right. Maybe that's the destiny talking." I shrug, flustered.

"Nah, it's you," Reina says with a fond smile. "You've always had too much love for just one person."

She boops me on the nose and I go back to hiding my face on the table.

“So,” Reina leans close, her tone conspiratorial. “Once you’ve got all three of them. Do you think you’ll convince them to, you know… all together?”

I stare at her in confusion.

“You know,” she repeats, though I clearly do not. “At the same time?”

She accompanies this with a crude hand gesture and I turn scarlet.

“Oh my god, Reina!”

“What? It’s a valid question!”

“Reina.”

Carver clears his throat and we both look up in surprise. Carver nudges Row with his foot until the other man wakes with a snort and sits up, looking slightly confused.

"Lucian has helped to get us a lead," Carver says. "He found Lavinia's last contact. If we can have a conversation with them once we land, we may be get a better idea of where she is what the Dakvahar are planning."

"If they can tell us where to find her that would be even better," I say. "Our allies are starting to look pretty thin on the ground."

"It may not be a good idea to go looking for the Daks while Morana's eyes are on us," Carver suggests, frowning. "We wouldn't want to lead her to them."

"If she hasn't got them already," Reina points out.

"Then what do we do?" I ask. "Just wait for them to come to us? We can't find Abe without them. And without Abe and the Daks we've got no rebellion."

"I have a few allies in the area," Carver says. "I'll reach out to them see what they know. We aren't out of luck without the Dakvahar. It makes things more difficult. But not a lost cause."

He smiles at me reassuringly, and I try to believe him, wishing it were easier. I stare out the window as we begin to descend below the clouds. France stretches out verdant beneath and, in the distance, Paris glitters like a fallen gem. I used to love the idea of Paris. I wanted to go there more than anything when I was younger. It had been this magnificent romantic ideal in my mind, full of art and music and suave, attentive lovers. Morana had spoiled that. Now I looked at Paris and saw only enemy territory.