Hotbloods (Hotbloods #1)

I wrapped my arms around Navan’s neck and my legs around his waist, and he took off again. I’d never tell him how much I had come to enjoy this particular mode of transportation, but every so often I’d glance up and our gazes would meet, before he looked off into the distance again, and, in spite of everything that had just happened, he’d have the tiniest of smiles on his face, which told me he didn’t seem to mind the extra cargo, either.

We flew back toward his underground base. I glanced down at the café street as we soared over it, noting the flashing of a police vehicle and the gathered crowd, as they tried to make sense of the incident. I sensed eyes watching us. I was certain that we blended in with the dark sky too well for anyone below to see us, and yet, as we flew, the feeling persisted.

Half of me was still holding out hope that Ianthan was around here somewhere, afraid of the attacker and waiting for the confidence to leave his hiding place, but he did not rejoin us in the sky, and I saw no sign of him.

I shook the unsettling feeling aside as we landed a few feet in front of the hidden storage cupboard where Navan stored his ingredients. He stocked up on vials, piling them into his bag until it was bulging. I hoped its seams would hold together, because we had a long journey ahead of us.

He took out a map of North America, and his compass. After a minute or two of frowning at the map and consulting the compass, he stowed the map away, and we took off again.

“At least the Fed didn’t find the storage cupboard,” Navan said, his mouth so close to my ear I could feel his cool breath. It occurred to me that all I had to do was turn my head and our faces would basically be touching—close enough to kiss. Has he ever been kissed before? I found myself wondering absentmindedly as we flew. Of course he must have, though I doubt he’s ever kissed a human…

“How long do you think it will take us to reach New York?” I asked, trying to distract myself from that derailing train of thought.

“Um, I’m estimating half a day,” he replied. “Though, I’m not exactly at my peak performance, so it may take longer.”

I glanced at his face, and noted the tired lines etched into it. I hadn’t really considered supernaturals getting tired, but now that I thought about it, Navan had been through a hell of a lot since the last time he must’ve slept (in fact, I didn’t even know when he had last slept). Not just physically but emotionally. The shock of discovering Ianthan and Jethro’s betrayal, and then his battle with them, and then flying all the way to Alaska. He hadn’t been able to doze off during the journey, like I had. He’d been so focused on getting me to Alaska, he hadn’t paid any attention to what it was that he needed.

“Maybe we should find somewhere for you to stop and sleep a little?” I suggested, glancing toward the horizon, which was slowly but surely brightening, the first rays of the sun touching the darkness. I knew we needed to hurry now, more than ever, to get what we needed from the Fed and fix Soraya so Navan could chase after that pod, but there was some comfort in the fact that Ianthan would need to rest too, at some point—assuming we were in a race.

I felt Navan’s chest move as he breathed out. “Maybe. But I’ll keep going for as long as I can.”

And so he continued to soar, over ice-capped mountains and frosty white plains, until the sun peeked over the horizon, and we reached less frozen territory, more browns and greens and blues splashing to the landscape.

I watched in wonder as Navan’s skin changed with the lightening atmosphere. It didn’t happen all at once—there was only a subtle difference at first. His skin transformed proportionately with the sun’s strengthening rays, little by little, until that gorgeous golden tan shade had returned.

“I gotta say, that’s pretty cool,” I said.

He smiled. “Just call me chameleon.”

We hadn’t spoken much during the first hour of our journey, as I suspected we’d both been too preoccupied with our thoughts, but now seemed like a good time to start talking details. We were on our way to New York, and I still didn’t know how he actually planned to pull this off.

“So what’s the plan when we get there?”

“We’ll have to pick a public area. I’ll let you pick, since this is your homecoming. I’ll have to reveal myself—my true self—long enough to cause a commotion, but not too long. I’ll need to fly fast, so I’m mostly a blur on cameras, but distinguishable enough to get the Fed’s backs up and get them on my tail. If they’re doing their job right, they’re constantly monitoring news channels for unexplained incidents, and a city like New York would be a priority for them. Who knows, they might even have a branch there. I’ll be able to figure out the logistics better once we’ve chosen the spot.”

“And what part would I play, exactly?”

“We should coordinate things so that you’re the first to approach them, help soften them a little. And you’ll have to tell them a blood sample is on its way to Vysanthe—I don’t see any way around that. However, if they want to know more, they’ll need to get us a meeting with their chief of operations here on Earth. I’m hoping that sliver of information will be enough for him or her to agree to a hearing.”

“Right,” I murmured. That made sense—tease them with information in order to get a foot in the door, rather than spilling everything at once. For all I knew, they could take that information and still not help us. I hadn’t forgotten the fear in Ianthan’s eyes at the thought of betraying his race, and invoking the Queens’ ire—we needed to hold information as close to our chests as possible, for as long as possible.

My mind wandered back to ‘lycans,’ wondering what they looked like, how they differed from the werewolves of human lore. Hopefully, they would be more amenable to talking than Navan was when I first met him.

We continued our journey in silence, falling back into our own thoughts. I felt Navan’s body becoming hotter—not too hot, thanks to his regulating formula—but enough that I started to get stuffy beneath my coat. I unzipped it to let in more air, and felt the hard lines of Navan’s chest press directly against mine. The sudden lack of layers between us made my traitor of a heart beat faster. I tried to focus on what lay ahead.

The sun continued to rise, bathing us in its warmth, and although it was impossible to truly get comfortable in this position, God knew how many feet above the ground without a safety belt, I figured this was probably the closest I was going to get.