Summoning Sebastian (12 page)

Ch
apter Twelve

The vampire cabals in Siberia could well trace their lineage back to the original infection and subsequent mutation, which probably occurred in a proto-human species perhaps 50-60,000 years ago. This remains theoretical, however, and cannot be proven or disproven without significant research and significant cooperation from the Siberian cabals.
—C. Roland, Dean of Vampire Studies, University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign

On
ce I got home, it all seemed less weird and unsettling. He'd probably just been some naturally creepy dude who happened to be shopping where I was. Or maybe he was a naturally creepy dude who really was stalking me but had nothing to do with the vampire shenanigans I accepted as a normal part of my life. He hadn't followed me out of the store, and I hadn't seen any strange cars following me home.

I had too many other things to think about to give it much of my attention. I needed to get at least a little sleep before we started our grand adventure after sunset tonight. And I needed to get my CDs ripped so I could listen to Russian and hopefully become completely fluent before we landed in Moscow. If possible-stalker still seemed weird to me when we were heading for the airport, I'd tell Colin about it then. It was a long ride. There'd be time for discussion.

I climbed back into bed with Colin and ripped the CDs, listening to bits and pieces as I did. As best I could tell, I hadn't absorbed anything via osmosis during the process. Bummer. I was going to have to actually study. But at least I had everything ready to go. I added my new outfit to my suitcase as well, then thought maybe I should have bought more than one. We were going to be there for a while, after all.

Oh well. I'd muddle through. I set the computer aside and stretched out to try to grab some sleep.

I did finally drift off, and woke a few hours later hovering between excitement at the thought of bringing Sebastian closer to home, trepidation at the idea of venturing into the freezing cold taiga, and abject terror at the thought of Colin meeting my parents. It was an uncomfortable mix of emotions, to put it mildly. They'd seeped into my dreams to strange result. I sat up, wondering if I was still being chased by my dad, wearing a polar bear costume, across the wide, white expanse of snow that was probably nothing like the taiga at all. There'd been hockey players in that dream too, though I couldn't remember what they'd been doing. Probably playing hockey.

I got up so Colin couldn't take advantage of me when he woke up. Not that I would have minded, but we didn't have a huge amount of time. We needed to get out and about and ready to go. Instead I headed for the desk and went over all the travel documents again.

Chelyabinsk wasn't exactly close to Tunguska—except by Russian standards—but my parents were there, so we would head there first. After a brief—I hoped—visit, we would make our way to Vanavara and then take a helicopter to the actual Tunguska strike zone. The vampire hangout, research facility, whatever, wasn't far from there.

Gwen wasn't coming with us. I hadn't really expected her to, but on top of her usual busyness, it seemed she was avoiding the parental units for some reason. Which was handy, because it meant she was available to look after Rufus. I was glad, since the other option was to have Colin put a whammy on Eric again, as he had when we'd gone to Illinois a few weeks ago. That had been rude enough the first time, not to mention risky. Roland, though, was coming along for at least part of the venture.

The flight itself would take nearly twenty-four hours, with a stop in New York at JFK, then another stop in Moscow before we boarded a two-hour jump to Chelyabinsk. Why the hell we couldn't fly west, I didn't know. It seemed like it would be a shorter flight. Probably something to do with having to go through Moscow for customs or whatever. Hazards of international travel, I guess. From there we'd figure out how to get to Vanavara, which was another four or five hours from Chelyabinsk, then into Tunguska proper.

We were complete fucking idiots.

But, a few hours later, sitting on the plane, clutching the blue glass bottle between my thighs, my hands folded protectively over the lid, I knew the reasons for the trip were sufficient to justify the danger and discomfort. Even the possible danger of strangers stalking me in bookstores. I'd talked to Colin about it on the car ride. He hadn't seemed overly worried, but I could tell he was filing the information away for future reference. Just in case.

I rubbed the smooth surface of the bottle with my thumbs, wishing I had a more intimate connection to the broken entity inside it. “You'd better appreciate this, Bastian,” I muttered. Maybe it was my imagination, but I thought the bottle buzzed faintly. I stroked the lid and closed my eyes as the plane taxied down the runway.

Fo
ur hours later, we were at JFK, and I was wondering why in the world I'd agreed to take another long trip with vampires.

“What exactly is the light-tight rating on this plane?” Colin was asking the man behind the counter at the gate. He was human, but seemed used to dealing with vamps. I would hope so, since it was a vamp-friendly airline. He smiled in a tolerant manner.

“Our rating is 105, with an additional A+ for comfort. That's from the Association for Safe Vampire Travel.”

“How many ashings have you reported since your business started?”

“Only two,” the man replied placidly. His nametag said PHIL under the stylized airlines logo. “Both were judged accidental.”

“Of course they were. And what—”

I poked him. Hard. “Colin, you're not asking him anything we didn't already research online. So back off. I'll be awake the whole trip, and if there's a hole or something letting the light in, I'll…I don't know, stick a piece of chewing gum in it or something.”

“But I—”

I poked him again. “I know. You want to interrogate somebody because it's your favorite hobby. But you paid like ten grand for this flight, so I'm sure they'll take good care of you.”

Phil was all over that. “Yes, sir, we most certainly will. It's all about your safety and comfort.”

Colin opened his mouth to say something else, so, once again, I poked him. Harder this time. Hard enough to make him wince. Phil blinked owlishly at both of us, probably wondering when Colin was going to lose patience with this treatment and bite me. But Colin just clicked his mouth back shut and said, “Okay. Thank you.” Maybe he'd learn some manners, yet.

To be fair, I'd probably be a little twitchy, myself, if I thought there was a chance I could be accidentally immolated during a trans-Atlantic flight. On the other hand, fear of sudden, horrifying death was just part and parcel of any kind of air travel.

We took a seat at the gate to wait. Roland meandered off to get snacks. I leaned toward Colin, resting my head on his shoulder. Sebastian's bottle, wrapped snugly in bubble wrap, was safely ensconced in my carry-on.

“It'll be okay,” I told him. “No sunburn flamey accidents. I promise.”

He let out a slow breath. It occurred to me he was actually nervous. For real. “Yeah. I just…haven't flown much. And I don't like the thought of being unconscious the whole time. Especially if something happens.”

“If something happens, you'll be unconscious and you won't even have to worry about it.”

“I mean if something happens to you.”

I was silent a moment. “Oh.” I didn't even know what to say to that. He turned his hand palm-up on the armrest, and I reached across and laid mine on top of it. “Well, I've flown a few times, and I'm here to tell the tale, so I'm sure it'll be fine.”

He nodded, but his brow remained beetled. I couldn't tell if it was from legitimate concern or just his normal expression.

Roland came back just before boarding, carrying a bottle of blood for Colin and a bag of trail mix for me. I thanked her and munched a few almonds while we waited for our row to be called. I'd already noticed the number of passengers was only about a third of what they would have been for an all-human flight.

I'd seen pictures of the plane's interior online, but it still took me by surprise when we headed on board. Instead of seats, the plane was equipped with upright boxes, where a vampire could be completely isolated from any sun exposure. They converted into seats for nighttime flights as well as for any human passengers. One of the side effects was that the plane could only hold maybe fifty passengers, 75 at a pinch and if there were extra humans to tuck into the regular seats in the two back rows.

We were in first class, which meant the upright seats were better padded and slightly larger than the ones in the back.

“I'll sit between you,” I told them, thinking that sitting next to the place where there should have been a window would just make me that much more claustrophobic.

Roland wasn't very talkative—I had the feeling she'd been fighting unconsciousness since we'd touched down at JFK. It seemed a little early for that, but different vampires reacted differently depending on whether they'd rested sufficiently on previous days, as well as how well fed they were. I was pretty sure Roland had been eating all right, but I couldn't swear she'd been sleeping on the regular.

They both took their seats and buckled in. There was a button to push that would draw up the sides of the seat to convert it into the coffin-like shelter that would protect them from the light. A sign on the back of the seats in front of us said: PLEASE WAIT UNTIL AFTER THE SAFETY PRESENTATION TO FULLY ENGAGE YOUR LIGHT-PROOF SEATING. Roland glanced at the sign, then pressed the bright red button. There was a sound of sliding plastic and the entire mechanism closed around her. A nearby flight attendant sighed audibly and rolled her eyes.

“She's really tired,” I said.

“They always are.”

To my surprise, Colin watched the safety presentation attentively. It covered precautions that would protect the vampires in case of a crash—waterproof, sunproof and fireproof substances built into the coffin-like enclosures. They also floated. It struck me as quite the feat of aeronautical engineering. I could activate mine, too, to keep me safe from fire or water. It wouldn't stave off starvation, though. And I had to wonder if they'd made provisions for my need to breathe.

The safety lecture concluded, and there was a sudden chorus of seats closing over passengers. Colin looked at me. There was something disturbing in his eyes, like fear or an anticipation of loss. It was strange, and the emotion wafting from him was even stranger. For a moment, I actually expected him to confess his undying love for me or something. But he just smiled a little and said, “See you in Moscow.”

“You bet,” I replied.

The flight attendant came down the aisle, checking everyone's carry-ons and making sure all the vampire enclosures were secure. Colin leaned over and kissed me, then made himself comfortable and disappeared inside an origami of metal and plastic.

I was alone. Mostly. I reached into my carry-on and withdrew the carefully wrapped bottle. Between my hands, it seemed to vibrate, throbbing with the life swirling within it. Or maybe that was my imagination. I rubbed the bottle with my thumb, sliding it past the bubble wrap. The glass really did feel like it was buzzing. As I rubbed it, my fingers warmed. I wondered off-handedly if sunlight could affect Sebastian in this form.

“I'll take care of you,” I murmured, at least part of the statement directed at Colin. “I promise.”

I folded the bottle against me and waited for takeoff.

Not long into the flight, I must have dozed off, because everything suddenly changed.

I was looking down at myself from a place near the ceiling of the plane. Which wasn't far up from my actual self.

This is unpleasant
, I thought, because the last time I'd looked down at myself from outside my body, I was recovering from a tainted vampire bite that had nearly killed me. Well, I would have resurrected as a zombie vampire under the complete control of Pieter, aka Russian Asshole, while said Russian Asshole Evil Vampire tried to take over the world with his vampire zombie minions. That time, I was unconscious, in pain, nearly dead. An out-of-body experience seemed appropriate. But now… I wasn't dead, was I? Not suffering from strange wounds?

No, it appeared I was asleep, my head tilted to the side, my forehead resting against Colin's enclosure. I might have been drooling. I hoped not. It's so unattractive.

Okay, so, I wasn't nearly dead, so what was going on? Why the floating thing?

“Because this way we can talk.”

I turned abruptly, surprisingly easy even without a body. I would have expected some kind of free-fall effect, a lack of gravity, but I just turned. Sebastian hovered next to me, sitting cross-legged on top of Roland's seat. It looked precarious, but then again, neither of us was corporeal, so it didn't much matter. Also, I was too surprised and pleased to see him to give it much thought.

“Sebastian?”

He looked exactly as he had when I'd met him, rangy and tall, with the bluest eyes I'd ever seen and that slight overbite that enhanced rather than marred his wide smile. He reached toward me, then pulled his hand back. I wondered if his fingers would have passed through me, had he tried to touch me. His face creased into a soft smile, built as much of regret as of joy. “Nim,” he said quietly.

“Is it really you?” Surely I was just dreaming. It didn't feel like a dream, though. I felt…warm. I was pretty sure I'd never felt warm in a dream before.

“As far as I can tell.” There'd be no way to know until we got Sebastian back and could compare notes. “Where are we going?”

I explained the plan briefly but in as much detail as I could. Which wasn't much, because a lot of what Colin and Roland had told me hadn't been the clearest.

“Where am I now?” I hadn't expected that question. I'd figured he knew.