Page 39 of Blood Bound (Blood Mafia 3)

She considers me, glances at Mateo who simply lifts an eyebrow to sayI’ll let her do it, and sighs. “Why does everyone expect me to hurt him? I’m the one who ends up hurt.” She mutters the last part softly enough I barely hear it.

When I start to ask what she means, she waves her hands as if the gesture can erase what she’s said.

“Fine, you have a deal. You can kill me if I hurt Zander.”

I tap my finger on the arm of the seat. “You have to promise not to pressure him either, he just lost one of his best friends who he also happened to love.”

“I’d never force him to be with me.” She places her palm over her chest. “I’m not a monster.”

“Good, then we won’t have a problem.” I uncross my legs and shift around, trying to find a comfortable position.

Evelyn wasn’t wrong. These seats suck.

Mateo sees me squirming and frowns. “Next time I’ll charter the black jet.”

“Now you want to charter the black one,” Evelyn says before scoffing. “Unbelievable. Your ass hurts and he’s suddenly ready to cough up the few thousand dollars for the nice jet.”

Ah the troubles of the rich. They have anicejet and abadjet. Hell, I’m impressed the Blood Mafia has access to a jet, though it makes sense given the amount of money they appear to have.

I glance out of the tinted windows—they’re treated with a special film which blocks out the most harmful sun rays and prevents the vampires from being weakened—and watch the clouds pass.

We’ve been flying for about three hours. The book Evelyn handed me earlier was interesting, but I got tired of reading after the first two hours. Now I’m left trying not to stare at the vampires or get sucked into an awkward conversation.

The overhead speakers ding.

“We’re about thirty minutes outside of our destination. Buckle up and prepare for landing.”

No pleasantries on private jets, I guess. I’m still buckled.

Grayson clicks his together and sighs. “Gotta love jets. We’d still be flying for about two more hours on a commercial flight.”

Colt and Mateo buckle and I hear the vampires behind me do the same.

Even immortal vampires listen to pilots. Considering our speed, if we crashed, they’d probably be killed without a seatbelt. With a seatbelt, we’d all be severely injured but we wouldn’t get ripped from the jet if it broke apart or caught on fire.

If we did crash it would suck. Imagine plummeting toward the ground, feeling your heart stop and stomach drop as you face certain death.

Judas Priest, why the fuck am I thinking about the jet crashing? This is the worst thing I’ve ever done while flying.

Mateo is suddenly in front of me. “What’s wrong? I feel your panic.”

His hands rest on my thighs and I suck in a deep breath and exhale, releasing all the horrible thoughts and forcing the tension to drain from my muscles.

“I’m fine.”

He squints at me. “Why were you scared?”

Sighing, I shake my head. “It’s dumb. I was thinking about crashing.”

Evelyn snorts. “Thatisdumb.”

“Not helping.” Mateo casts a scowl in her direction. “We’ll be fine.”

“I’m okay, really. I don’t know what came over me.”

He looks thoughtful for a moment, rubbing his thumbs back and forth on my thigh. “Human fears are hard to forget. With time you’ll learn they hold no power over you if you don’t allow them to.”

Before I can respond, he stands and flashes to his seat, buckling in once more and crossing his arms over his chest.

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