Aeromancist (Seven Forbidden Arts 3) - Page 11

By the time she got home, she had enough control over herself to pack calmly. She only told Diana that Lann was taking her to France, letting her roommate believe they were going to talk things over. She said she needed to get away from Santiago. She needed distance to get a fresh perspective on her future. Diana ranted and raved, trying to change her mind, but when her friend realized it was futile, she gave up, helped Kat pack, and told her to come home the minute he mistreated her.

Kat didn’t say she’d only come back one last time to pack up her belongings. Diana would try to sway her, and she didn’t have enough energy for another fight. She’d made the decision on her way to the apartment. She never wanted to see Santiago again. That she was going to do exactly what her mother warned her not to, didn’t matter now. She was going to throw away a once-in-a-lifetime study opportunity to escape her memories. She’d make it somewhere else, where the memories were not so vivid. She could get a job for a while, and maybe study something new.

Early the following morning, Lann’s driver rang Kat’s doorbell. He carried her single suitcase downstairs. Lann and Eve were waiting in the car. From the look of them, they were in a heated discussion. When the driver opened the door, they fell silent. Except for a quick greeting, none of them spoke again until they boarded a private jet.

An airhostess showed them to their seats. Feeling nauseous again, Kat laid her head back and focused on her breathing. The last thing she wanted was to vomit in a paper bag with Lann for an audience.

Someone touched her arm. She opened her eyes.

Eve was bent over her. “Ginger helps.”

“Thanks,” Kat said, offering a meek smile.

“What’s wrong?” Lann asked.

Eve took her seat. “Morning sickness.”

For a brief moment, Lann looked guilty.

“It’s nothing,” Kat said, turning her face away from his gaze.

Although she didn’t spill her guts, her nausea didn’t abate. She suffered it for the duration of the ten-hour flight.

Before landing, Kat used the bathroom to freshen up. She studied herself in the mirror. She appeared pale. Applying a bit of make-up to put some color back in her face, and brushing her hair and teeth made her feel somewhat better.

The airhostess announced that it was minus five degrees Celsius at ground level. Coming from a summer where thirty degrees was the rule, Kat didn’t look forward to the bleak weather she saw from the window as they landed. When the plane door opened, she pulled on her wool coat and scarf, and followed Lann and Eve to a waiting car.

Everything seemed unreal. It felt as if she was watching a movie. What happened wasn’t happening to her. Until two weeks ago, she belonged to Lann. She believed she was happy. Two days ago, her life was shattered by the double lines on a pregnancy test. Ten hours ago, she was in Santiago. Now, she was on French soil.

She looked around. They weren’t at a major airport, but at a smaller airfield. Except for a control tower and a hangar, there were no other buildings. They weren’t going through passport control. Nobody, except Diana, knew where she was. Even Diana didn’t know exactly where she was. She didn’t know either, only that she was somewhere in Paris. Could she even trust Eve and Lann? Her heart started beating with a sluggish pace. Her grief had made her blind. Once again, she’d placed her life in Lann’s hands without thinking it through.

She stopped dead in her tracks. What was she doing? She didn’t have a phone. Since her mobile didn’t have roaming, she’d left it in Santiago. She hadn’t even brought her computer. She only had a few American dollars.

Eve got into the car. Lann turned with his hand extended, presumably to help Kat inside, and stilled.

His gaze found her where she’d paused not far from the steps of the plane. “Katherine?”

She’d once trusted him completely, but that was before she’d learned of his deceit. She’d even trusted him after he’d confessed his job sometimes involved killing people. She’d believed he wouldn’t hurt her. She’d believed he was a good person. Had her passion and lust made her see only what she wanted? The emotional turmoil had prevented her from thinking logically for the past two days. Now her mind suddenly cleared like sunshine after a storm. She didn’t know him.

A frown pleated his brow. “Katherine?”

She didn’t move.

He extended his hand farther. “Come to me, Katherine.”

Come to me, one of his love notes had said, the one he’d given her with a ruby-encrusted hairclip because the gemstones reminded him of her hair. She’d left it behind with his other gifts, everything he’d given her, to rid herself of anything that could evoke a painful memory.

Tags: Charmaine Pauls Seven Forbidden Arts Fantasy
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