Hollows International wasn’t a huge airport, but it was busy with early-morning flights, even at the ungodly hour of seven in the morning. It was way too early for me to be up, and I felt numb, the lukewarm cup of blah coffee almost slipping from my grip. Our flight was boarding in half an hour; we had lots of time. The air smelled like floor polish and plastic, and I sat in the fake leather chairs across from the check-in counter and people-watched as Ivy bought a ticket and checked our luggage. After the incident with Trent, she had gotten leave from her master vampire to come with Jenks and me.
Trent’s prediction that I wouldn’t be allowed on the plane had convinced me that the less I interacted with the gods and goddesses of air travel in their polyester blazers and winged lapel pins the better. So I sat waiting, our carry-ons strewn around me. Nervous, I pushed myself to the back of the chair and slouched. Jenks, though, wasn’t fooled by my show of nonchalance.
“Trent’s an ass, but he’s right. We’re not getting through security,” he predicted, making his wings hum for some extra heat. [. . .]
As a special treat, my publisher arranged for an official Pale Demon wallpaper that is free for your personal use. I’ve got three sizes, but because they are so large, I have them at the website, not here.
(It feels like it’s getting close!)