“I drove…Kova’s car,” she said as it dawned on her.
“Which Armina probably owns,” Paris muttered.
Her stomach sank. “And I used his card to pay for the room. He told me I could.” How had she been so naive?
“She probably has access to it,” Paris said. “No more. We’re going somewhere else to be safe. Are you playing a long game to infiltrate my home and kill the people I care about most?”
“No, but if I were, I don’t imagine I’d tell you,” she said.
He chuckled. “Such a smartass. I always liked you.”
That casual quip shook the ground beneath her. Another vampire who somehow knew her. It felt more like a cruel joke than ever, as if the whole world was conspiring against stupid little Scarlett. Her stomach lurched, and she blurted, “Stop the car. I need to get out.”
“No,” Julian said. She instinctively clenched a fist, but he put up an open hand as if to say stop. “Do you want to go back to Armina Voss right now?”
She shook her head.
“Okay. Then stay with us. You’re safer with us than wandering the streets of Atlanta,” Julian said. “Take us to Infinity.”
Paris reached across to tap the woman’s shoulder. “Ignore that. Head for Marietta.”
“Infinity is one of the safest places in the city, and Shea already knows where it is,” Julian protested.
“And I don’t want this one to twist up all of Shoshanna and Misha’s magic and melt both of their brains by crossing the threshold,” Paris said. He leaned across Scarlett, then nimbly climbed into the front seat. His fingers danced across the dashboard screen to enter a new address into the GPS.
“Where are we going?” Scarlett asked.
“Your Shieldsmen friends ran one of our allies out of her house a few months back,” Paris said mildly. “You might remember her. You kidnapped her child. That’s when I shot you. Remember?”
Her brow furrowed. “I do, and for what it’s worth, that was a terrible plan. By the time I got here, they had already done it. I would never kidnap a child.”
Paris glanced at her, then shook his head. As they drove, her stomach growled, and she realized that she hadn’t eaten since before her attempt to take out Julian the night before. Her drugstore snack haul remained untouched in her overpriced hotel room.
“Do you need to eat?” Julian murmured.
She stared at him, confused. Then he tilted his head and pointed to her belly with a wry smile. “You heard that?”
He chuckled and leaned forward. “Safira, find us something that’s open.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Scarlett protested.
But fifteen minutes later, they were parked in a pool of hazy white light while their driver hurried inside with orders to pick up food. Paris looked back at her. “On a scale of one to I need hard drugs to cope, how strange is this?”
“Paris,” Julian said sharply.
“Strong eight,” Scarlett said. “Ask me again tomorrow.”
He smirked.
“Sorry about trying to kill you,” she said.
“You hit me with a poison dart, not a bullet,” he reminded her. “Seems like you were pulling punches.”
“Darts are better for long shots. More likely that you’ll be down for decapitation,” she said.
He was still smirking, but something shifted in his eyes. Maybe she should watch the vampire-hunting jokes. They both jumped a little in surprise when their driver returned, arms heavy laden with bags. Paris chuckled. “Did you buy the entire produce aisle?”
Safira managed to flip him off beneath her bags. As she handed them inside, she said, “I didn’t know what you might like.And then I saw a bunch of things that I was curious about,and I think I wanted to live vicariously through you.”
