“People will think that’s funny?”
“Depending on how you tell it, sure,” I said. “Plus you could defuse some of the fear people have about us by letting them laugh with you.”
“If Vlad hears I’m making fun of vampires, he’ll kill me.”
“Not while Saber and I stand behind you. Besides, I thought you wanted to take charge of your afterlife.”
Jo-Jo straightened. “I do.”
“Then stop worrying about Vlad,” I said.
“Yeah,” Saber drawled, “and start worrying about how you’re going to teach Cesca to fly.”
FIVE
006
I stiffened. “Saber, Jo-Jo does not need to worry about teaching me to fly.”
“I don’t know. From what Maggie said, Abe’s Traffic School worried about teaching you to drive.”
Jo-Jo looked appalled. “Don’t tell me Her Highness is a bad driver.”
“I’m a great driver,” I snapped. “I don’t tailgate or lane weave or cut people off.”
“But you do have a lead foot, and you can’t parallel park to save your life.”
“Afterlife,” I snipped, “and parallel parking is overrated.”
“All I know is that the driving test examiner was afraid you’d bite him if he didn’t pass you.”
“I would never!” I sputtered, hoping I didn’t blush. I hadn’t exactly soothed that nervous examiner’s fears. Darn it all, I’d hoped Saber would forget about the flying lessons. He’d pushed me to claim my vampireness since we met, and overhearing the French Bride killer rant about a passel of powers day-walkers were supposed to possess only made Saber shove harder. He said he wanted me to be all I could be. Heck, if that’s what I wanted, I’d join the Marines. They were looking for a few good vamps.
Flying? I wasn’t going up without a fight.
“Jo-Jo has enough to do, Saber,” I argued. “He needs to focus on working up an act. Besides, you told me not all vampires daywalk. Maybe flying isn’t one of my talents.”
“Daywalking isn’t a universal vamp trait, but flying is. You need to learn this skill.”
Jo-Jo picked up the banner. “Your consort is right, Highness. Knowing how to fly will strengthen your power base.”
“I don’t have a power base, Jo-Jo, and stop calling me Highness.”
“Yes, Your Graciousness.”
I gritted my teeth. “Gentlemen, now is not the time for flying lessons.”
“Why not? Jo-Jo can work with you right here.”
“In the backyard? Hugh Lister would have a stroke.”
“Maggie taught you to drive in empty parking lots. That’s an option.”
“Sure. Like playing Peter Pan in a parking lot won’t attract undue attention.”
“You are not wiggling out of this, Cesca.”
“Um, we can start with simple levitation,” Jo-Jo offered.
Saber and I snapped our heads in his direction.
“Simple?” I gulped. “Levitation is simple?”
“Of course. Any year-old vamp has mastered—uh, I mean, it’s basic enough.”
“See, Cesca?” Saber said. “Driving a car is probably more complicated.”
Translation? If I couldn’t fly, I was the lamest vampire on the planet. Which didn’t bother me, really. I’d rather cling to being as normal, as human, as possible. But, with Saber all but daring me, this was a challenge I had to meet. A fear I had to conquer. A vampire party trick I had to master or never hear the end of it.
I heaved a defeated sigh. “Up, up, and away.”
Jo-Jo popped out of his seat with more energy than he’d shown since he leaped atop the arbor. Saber flashed a diabolical grin, pulled me up, and paced after Jo-Jo to the shadows beside my cottage.
“Okay, Princess,” Jo-Jo said, rubbing his hands together. “Let’s start with an overview. Now watch what I do.”
I crossed my arms as he took three steps and just, well, lifted into the air until he hovered about two feet off the ground. It was as impressive as the one time I’d seen Ike fly, though Ike and his vamps had taken more steps to get off the ground. Guess Jo-Jo was older and had more air miles.
When he sank down to the grass, he turned to me.
“Now you try.”
“No.”
Saber hip-bumped me. “Go on, Cesca.”
I planted my hands on my hips. “Saber, I walk all the time without that happening. I saw the mechanics, but that doesn’t tell me how to actually go up.”
“Princess, what don’t you understand?”
“How do you get your lift, Jo-Jo? Are you thinking ‘come fly with me’? ‘Walk this way’? Are you thinking happy little thoughts?”
“Uh, I believe I just expect to fly, and I do, but let me go over the steps again.”
Jo-Jo walked back to us, brows furrowed in concentration. He turned, took a breath, and started off. When he reached the fourth step, the one that should’ve hit only air, he stumbled. Muttering something colorful, he started off again, and then stumbled again. Houston, we have a problem. Failure to launch.
Jo-Jo faced us with chagrin. “Maybe we should try a different approach.”