Sarafina sat ramrod stiff, staring out the window of the limo, her mind turning her situation over. She was currently careening through Manhattan traffic as fast as the limo driver could push his way through, in a mad dash to meet Stefan’s private jet, which would whisk her away immediately to parts unknown.

There would be no way for Theo and Darren to follow her, nifty charmed necklace or not. Was Stefan doing this on purpose? To ensure she wasn’t being watched by the Coven? If so, did he only suspect she still had ties to Thomas Monahan . . . or did he know?

The limo came to a stop next to a sleek midsized white jet with multicolored lines running down the fuselage and two huge engines mounted near the tail. Six windows lined either side. This was Stefan’s private plane, so of course it was top-of-the-line.

The limo driver opened the door for her, letting in the morning sun. She looked at the plane and then turned to David. “I don’t have anything with me, not even my toothbrush.”

David twisted his lips into a sardonic smile and let his Blackberry drop into his lap. “If you want to join the Duskoff, you’ll be expected to bleed for us.” He tipped his head to the side and gave her a withering look. “If you can’t even manage a day trip without your toothbrush, then you’re certainly not ready for the rest.”

Point taken.

The driver helped her out and guided her to the stairs. At the top waited Stefan. “Sarafina, I’m so happy you decided to join me.” He motioned to her and she climbed the stairs to the top. “Step into my parlor.”

He placed a hand to the small of her back and led her into the passenger cabin of the plane. It was narrow, but packed with luxury. She took a moment to scan the fine leather furniture, thick carpeting, a wide-screen television and a stereo system, and fully stocked bar.

Stefan motioned to the two heavily muscled men sitting at the front of the cabin, near the cockpit. “My bodyguards. They only speak when spoken to, so they won’t be disturbing us.”

Someone moved in the corner of the cabin. The pilot? The man turned and guided icy blue eyes to her face.

Bai.

The airplane door slammed shut behind her.

NINETEEN

NINETEEN

FIRE ROSE AS FAST AS HER FEAR. SHE WOULD FIGHT to the end because no way was she going down easy. Power rippled from her center, winging down her arms to her hands, where fire danced and sparked between her fingers. Through Theo’s training, she was on the balls of her feet and ready to move fast.

“Peace, my petal,” said Stefan. “He won’t hurt you.”

“Except every time he sees me, he tries,” she answered through gritted teeth.

“Misconstrued intent. You always attack him first, yes? Out of fear?”