Wait...something's wrong.
The hair on the back of her neck prickled, and she'd learned over the years to trust that feeling.
Barefoot, she opened the door a crack and peered into the main cabin. Empty. Where was everyone? She crossed the floor and about halfway her foot slid in something sticky. The coppery scent hit her nostrils as she squatted to investigate.
Blood.
Her instincts kicked into full alert--she crouched lower, her eyes darting left and right. A trap! They'd been lured here to die. Drawn in by scheming vampires--she knew they weren't to be trusted. She had to reach the cockpit and force the plane down. Somehow. She had to get back on the ground. There she had more of a chance--more control.
For the first time she noticed a dripping noise coming from up ahead. Antoinette tilted her head, trying to locate the source and inched forward. The galley. She whipped aside the concertina door to find Mary slumped against the wall, lifeless eyes staring at the ceiling, her throat ripped open. The blood formed vivid crimson rivulets against her pallid skin. The eyes were the worst, terror frozen in their vacant gaze.
But something gnawed at Antoinette's thoughts.
Why would Christian murder his own staff?
