He tapped his long fingers on his knee. “You would have no choice but to lift the curfew if you were vampire.”

Light filled her vision. “That’s right.”

“Being sired is painful. Frightening.” His voice became quieter, more serious. “Some do not survive.”

“I know and I am prepared. Pain does not frighten me. I have lost a child. What greater pain can there be? And I know I will survive because I want it so badly.”

He stood and held his hand out to her. “Come. This is not the place. And I have… requirements of you before we undertake this thing, yes?”

She hesitated in taking his hand. “Are you saying you’ll turn me?”

“I am, cara mia.” He laughed softly. “But not until I am satisfied.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

The chartered jet was in the hangar just as planned when Mal and Chrysabelle arrived that evening. The plane wasn’t as large as Dominic’s but it would do. Mal had to hand it to Mortalis. When the fae said he’d do something, he did it. Jerem pulled Chrysabelle’s car inside and popped the trunk to unload their things while she and Mal got out.

“You’re late,” Mortalis called out as he jogged down the jet’s steps.

“Dominic’s tailor had to make a few adjustments to my suit,” Mal answered. “Plus we stopped at the freighter on the way.”

Mortalis nodded. “That’s fine. We’re fueled and ready to go. I’ll help with the bags.”

“Thanks.” Chrysabelle went around to the trunk, pulled her sacres out, and slung them over her shoulder. Even though she couldn’t bring the swords into the ball, she’d brought them anyway. Mal couldn’t say as he blamed her. There was comfort in being well armed. She took one small bag from the trunk while Jerem got the rest. “Where’s the pilot? I’d like to meet him.”

“I’m right here.” A familiar gray-skinned figure waved from the jet door.

“Amery!” Chrysabelle waved back as she walked toward the jet. “I didn’t know you flew.”

“One of my many talents.” He came down a few steps. “Malkolm, nice to see you.”

Mal grabbed the handle of his worn leather satchel. “You too, kid.” Having another fae on board wasn’t a bad thing. Amery had been helpful enough when they’d been in New Orleans. If the need came to defend the plane against vampires, the shadeux and their ability to possess soulless creatures would come in very handy.

A few minutes later, they were on board. Mortalis secured the door. “I’ll be in the cockpit with Amery if you need me.”

“Thank you.” Chrysabelle took the seat next to Mal and fastened her safety belt. Her arm pushed against his as she got comfortable. The movement stirred a fresh waft of her enticing perfume around him.

He growled softly, opening his mouth to let that velvet scent tease across his tongue.

She smiled shyly. “You need to feed. We’ll take care of that as soon as we’re up, okay?”

“I’m…” He was about to say fine, but that wasn’t the truth. He did need to feed. Drink her, drain her, all of her. “When we’re up.” He tipped his head back against the seat as the jet taxied out of the hangar. How was he going to go back to drinking her blood out of a glass after tasting it from her vein?

He closed his eyes, lost in the thought of being able to pull her into his arms and hold her as he sank his teeth into the pale expanse of her gilded throat, the way she’d clutch him and inhale, the way their bodies—He abruptly opened his eyes and shifted in his seat. That line of thought was going to make for a very long plane ride.

Chrysabelle laid her hand on his arm as the plane shot forward and the g-force of liftoff pushed them into their seats. “You okay?”

He nodded. “Just thinking.”

“About how you’d rather bite me again than drink from a glass?” She laughed. “No, I can’t read minds, but your eyes are about as silver as a new coin and if your face shifts any further, you might break a bone.”

He forced his human features back into place. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” Her lids lowered and one side of her mouth tipped up. “I was thinking about it, too.”

Her words sent a bolt of heat into his belly. He squelched it. “No point in thinking about it. Can’t happen. I won’t risk killing you.”

“Are you sure?” Her hands gripped the armrests. “We did it once and I’m still alive.” The plane started to level out. “Besides, even if you do accidentally drink too much, you can’t kill me. You might knock me out for a day or two, but then I’ll be as good as new.”

He twisted to face her. “I was chained up. That’s not the same as being in a confined space with me. And we don’t know that you’ll survive dying again. You’re assuming that.” He glared at her. “If you’re going into this confrontation with Tatiana thinking it’s okay to die, you’d better get your head on straight. You take one foolish chance and I will pull you out of there so fast—”

She clamped her hand over his mouth until he stopped talking. “There’s the Mal I’m used to. Bossing me around, telling me what to do. You must have been chomping at the bit, huh? Feel better now that you’ve gotten that out?”

“I’m serious.”

Her eyelids fluttered as she inhaled. “Yes, I know you are. I don’t plan on taking any unnecessary chances, but this isn’t just Tatiana we’re about to face. It’s the upper crust of vampire nobility. Something goes wrong and neither of us is getting out of there alive, which is why you need to keep your strength up. You need to be able to scatter in case that’s the only option you have left.”