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Chapter 19

Freddie

The remaining time in Barcelona was quiet, with no hint of a threat from the Azarian coven. Freddie distracted himself from his growing unease about the trip to New York by taking Anthony on every romantic excursion he could think of. They visited the Sagrada Familia, the Picasso Museum, the gothic quarter, and stepped foot in every Gaudí building in the city.

And the food! So much paella. So much gelato. So much jamón. Although Freddie didn’t need to eat, and didn’t beyond a few bites here and there, he adored feeding his mate. The look of ecstasy on Anthony’s face when he bit into the perfect croqueta was maybe the sexiest thing Freddie had ever seen.

The time together brought out a different side of Anthony. Freddie loved Anthony’s mischievous bent and his hot temper, but the sweet moments they shared were a wonderful surprise. Soon enough, though, they would have to enter the lion’s den. They couldn’t escape it.

Anthony, Freddie, and Gabriela sat together on the trip back to the US. Anthony and Gabriela chatted like old friends the entire flight, as Freddie calmed his anxiety by sorting through their security measures.

Three of Freddie’s team from the London coven would be waiting at the terminal for them. Freddie’s plan was to play the visible heavy, and ask his coven-mates to stay hidden. There would be no sightseeing in New York. They would either be at the hotel or at the opera house, and Freddie would be by Anthony’s side the whole time.

The plane was entering its descent as Freddie pushed away his obsessive rumination. He found Anthony and Gabriela engaged in a heated, whispered game of “what animal are the other passengers?”

“He’s a giraffe, no question,” Anthony’s voice was deadly serious. “Look at that neck. And that huge ass tongue. Why does he keep licking his lips like that?”

“A giraffe?” Gabriela’s face was incredulous. “His nose is so skinny and long. I agree on the tongue, though. He’s an anteater.”

“An anteater! What do you know about anteaters? They don’t even live on your continent!”

“You think we don’t have books? Besides, I went to university in Mexico, and got my master’s in Texas.”

“Texas!” Anthony clutched at imaginary pearls.

“Why do you think I speak English so well?”

“You have a grad degree? In what?”

“Futurism.”

“What the hell is that?”

“It’s the science of predicting the future.”

“Why are you working as a dresser?”

“I didn’t want to get a P.h.D. to teach, and there aren’t a lot of other jobs in the field.”

“Who could have predicted that?” Anthony asked in a sarcastic tone.

Freddie chuckled, and both Gabriela and Anthony turned their heads towards him. Anthony leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Welcome back to the land of the living.”

“What do you mean?”

“You were lost so deep in your thoughts that you didn’t answer the flight attendant when he asked if you wanted pretzels.”

Freddie furrowed his brows. “Oh.”

“It’s okay.” Anthony grinned. “Now that you’re awake, do you think that dude over there is a giraffe or an anteater?”

Thankfully, at that moment, the front wheels of the plane touched down, ending the conversation with a bump and a screech.

Freddie recognized the three vampires in black suits waiting for them at the baggage claim. Two of them, Rose and Lillian, were twin sisters, both of them tall and Black with dark brown hair. Rose wore her hair short, almost to the scalp, while Lillian kept her’s down, straightened, often in a ponytail. Freddie knew them to be smart and insightful. They’d led several complicated investigations for the coven, and Freddie trusted them to keep Anthony out of danger.

The third was Garrett. It wasn’t often that Freddie questioned his coven master’s judgment, but Garrett? He was a killing machine waiting to be pointed at a target. Anyone who had ever called Freddie quiet should meet Garrett. He avoided speaking. He was loyal to the coven, but still. Garrett wouldn’t give a shit about protecting anyone once he got into a rage. His only purpose in a fight was carnage.

Freddie feared few people alive, vampire, human, or otherwise, but he’d hesitate before going head-to-head with Garrett. Short, tan, bearded, and built like a spark plug, the man excluded an aura of strangeness. He had seen no evidence, but the rumor in the coven was that Garrett had been turned not as a human but as some other paranormal species. Perhaps a werewolf, or even a redcap.