Across the fields, the barks and howls of a number "wolves" echoed through the darkness. Mithias' froze for a split second as he realized things at the airport had just gotten far worse. He remembered the white wolf vampiress from previous, and blinked in rapid succession, his eyes unable to piece behind the rows of runway lights. Had the wild vampire goddess come to join the fight? Perhaps she or Magnus could have brought the werewolves with them in an effort to rescue Void. Magnus. Somehow, Mithias knew that madman was involved. 

Lost in his speculations, Mithias almost missed the steward telling him to board. He cursed himself for getting into this mess. Not half a day had gone by since the meeting with his father, which had gone miraculously well I might add, and he was already in a deathzone. Was he even capable of keeping a promise? On top of that, guilt nagged at him for leaving the scene. All his life, he had always been there, doing what he could. Now, he was a thief, and a killer, and a terrible son. 

Plane engines hummed above. This was not unusual at an airport, but these were rather close to the ground, low-flying, as if they were about to land. A wiff of a familiar vapor choked Mithias, and he moved to the back of the plane, away from the door. The humans were of course unaffected and had no idea as to the source of his repulsion. They didn't even notice. Mithias maintained his composure and appeared to listen to the obligatory instructions. The door was already being closed, and that wretched holy vapor wouldn't further contaminate the cabin. 

He sat across from a lovely young blonde woman, an American, it seemed. She blushed and smiled at him. "I enjoy taking off in a plane." She said warmly, leaning forward. She must have seen that Mithias was looking through the window, focused on events outside. "Have you ever flown before?" Her innocence was sweet, but she could not distract him. 

As the plane began to accelerate, the vampire watched several pairs of glowing red eyes approach like demon streaks in the night, chasing after them. He waited for the subtle sound, the vibrations of a large body jumping up and clinging to the side of the jet ... He didn't feel it, and the demonic red eyes fell away, disappearing into a sea of orange and white lights that mirrored the stary sky above. 

Finally, Mithias leaned back and exhaled, running a hand nervously through the top of his hair. God damn. If they simply could avoid being blown up by a missile at this point, they would make it. He tried to relax. There was nothing left to do now, but make the most of what was still possibly his last moments. He looked at the delicious looking woman across from him. "Don't be afraid. Planes are very safe." She smiled and reached out to touch his knee reassuringly. "I'm Jennifer. No matter what, I'll be with you." 

Was she truly so caring, or was she acting the part? Mithias couldn't tell as his inhuman eyes stared at her. She was good at being brave. He chose to appreciate the gesture and put his own hand on hers, to which, she did not flinch. This human, she would go down with him, guaranteed to die, and yet *she* would be concerned for *him?* It was touching, even if it was a lie. He looked at her and considered how so many vampires could see humans as nothing. Even the old were infants in their comprehension and abilities when compared to immortals. It was hard even for Mithias not to prejudge. He didn't know who this woman was, and no one wanted him to. Even among her own kind, she was likely a nobody, a call girl, a hired friend. Would turning her change any of that? 

"We will make it to London. We have to." He watched her expression of relief that he had spoken to her. "I could really use that Tennessee scotch." A vampire wouldn't physically benefit from drinking it, but Mithias would, mentally.