Outside the terminal, we found an abandoned luggage mover. Jack got into the driver's seat, and Holly and I climbed into the back. Sitting on the cold, uncomfortable chairs, Holly reached over and took my hand in hers. She squeezed my fingers.

"If what he's saying is true, we should do as he says," Holly whispered to me while Jack's back was turned. "He got us into the airport, and he's going to get us out of Miami. That's the most we can hope for right now."

"Does it matter that he lied to us? He lied since the second he met you at the train station."

"He didn't tell the whole truth. But even if I didn't keep in touch with Jack, my parents know his aunt. She comes to our restaurant every Sunday. I just can't make myself believe that he's a bad person. I don't think he's trying to get us killed."

"Oh, now you two are getting along?" I marveled. Holly reached out and placed her hand over my knee. I noticed her purple nail polished was chipped now. Holly was finally losing it. Although I had seen her periodically touch up her lips with her strawberry lip gloss that she carried in her ever-present Coach bag, at this point in time that was the only make-up she wore.

That's how you know the world is ending when even Holly stops putting on eyeliner. She finally looked tired as she leaned back into the seat. As the luggage mover drove relentlessly into the night, Holly wrapped her blue sweater close around her shoulders like a cape.

"I would rather not spend my time with a nerd like Jack Fayer, but I also like being alive," Holly whispered as we stared at Jack's back. He was in the driver's seat and he appeared to know exactly where he was going. In the distance, I saw an outline of a small plane with blinking lights along its wingspan.

We were the only evacuees in this entire airport.

That plane was waiting for us.

I felt a knot growing in my throat. Who was it that was awaiting us on that plane?

"Did you suspect anything?" I pondered out loud to stop myself from imagining what horrible fates awaited us.

"Yeah," Holly whispered, her eyes also fixed on the plane in the distance. "While we were waiting for you to get back from those white tents back South Beach, Jack got a call on his cellphone. He said it wasn't a real call, just the cell phone acting up because of the satellite disruption, but I saw it was a Manna City number. If there's one thing I know from working at Tiffany's all those years, it's all the variations of area codes from Manna City."

"He's playing us."

"Yeah," Holly replied. "We can't trust Fayer. Or anyone he works with. We should try to get away from him as soon as we can."

"I would rather deal with vampire Grace than him and his friends." I leaned into Holly's ear. "Whoever Jack is working for is interested in me. Only me. Maybe you still have a chance to get away."

"No," Holly hissed back. She caught my chin and vigorously shook her head. "We're in this together. Until the end."

*

We got out of the luggage mover at the far end of the runway. The sun was just about to slip below the horizon. Without a second's hesitation, Jack herded us toward the small jet parked at the end of the runway.

"Is this safe? I thought the satellite system wasn't working," I muttered resentfully.

"No, but ours is," Jack said. "Don't worry, Ailith, between myself and our military-trained pilot; we'll keep the plane in the air. He could pilot us to safety in the middle of armageddon."

Even as we walked, I heard gunshots in the distance. Smoke appeared, and then an explosion. It appeared night had come, and the vampires had started to awaken. Either that or the remaining people had decided to rush the gate.

"Get into the plane!" Jack hollered. "Run!"

Holly grabbed my hand, and we ran up the stairs into the small plane. There was a man wearing a suit standing at the doorway to the plane to greet us. He closed the door securely behind us as soon as the three of us were on board.

"Captain," he said with a nod. "Took you bloody long enough."

"Livet, I've never been so happy to see you, man," Jack said as he threw himself around the skinny dark-haired man with both arms. "I nearly shit in my pants fifteen times just in the past hour."

The plane started to move even as we lingered by the door. I had to grab hold of a bathroom door handle to stay upright. We were gaining speed; my guts could barely handle the speed at which the aircraft was careening down the runway.

"This way, Miss Ying. Please sit down," Livet instructed me. I noticed that as I tried to get a good look at Livet, he immediately cast his eyes to the ground. He guided me to the luxurious, cream-colored interior of the plane. I had been on a plane before but nothing like this. There were giant sofa sized chairs with seat rests and large tables.

We all took our seats in the calfskin chairs and buckled up. There was a generous-sized window beside my chair, and outside the dark forlorn landscape passed by quicker and quicker until it was all a blur. With barely a rumble, the sleek plane pointed up and took to the skies. Despite the calm of our cabin, in the distance, I saw several more gunshots erupt. There would be no peace, not even in the refugee camps tonight. There were fires dotting the landscape now. In the past, fires such as these would be the symbols of chaos, riots or violence. Now, they were humanity's last stand against the demons that came in the night.

I wondered what would happen when these fires finally went out. When every last human was turned, what would be left for our planet then?

"Looks like we finally made it to safety," Jack spoke up, breaking the heavy silence as we reached cruising altitude.

"You poor g-girls must be starving," Livet said as he reappeared from the back of the plane with warm, buttery brioche rolls, jams, smoked salmon, and little tins of caviar. He placed these on the table before us and set out some spotless silverware.

I thought I wasn't hungry until I smelled the butter. Even as I tried to avert my eyes, my stomach growled.

All I had that day was a fried egg and then about fifty Oreos, three bags of lays, and a snickers bar in the back of the car. Jack seized one of the rolls and filled it with salmon and butter until it looked like the Big Mac of finger foods.

Holly and I exchanged glances but didn't reach for the food. We were like Hansel and Gretel, sitting before the Witch's Cottage. This food would come with a price, one that neither of us understood the full extent of.

"Is this not to your liking?" Livet asked in a kindly tone. He approached me and filled my cup with tea. My throat was absolutely parched but I didn't reach for the cup. Yet, even as every breath I took seemed to remind me of the sandpaper that coated my inners, I didn't want to drink from that cup. There was a strange, fragrant scent wafting from it that made me scrunch up my nose.

"What is this?"

"It's made from a night jasmine that only grows in the winter," Livet replied carefully, slowly, as though he was explaining the matter to a toddler. "Do you not like it?"

"Sounds fancy, can the rest of us have some?" Holly demanded. I knew she was wondering why Livet was serving it only to me.

Livet seemed to hesitate, as though the request shocked him. Then I saw a smile grow on his face as though he were scrambling to cover up his surprise with decorum. "Of course, Miss Xu, let me find you a cup."

"I didn't tell him my name," Holly mouthed in my direction as Livet left the main cabin momentarily. I didn't have any answers or even guesses left to offer her. There was nothing left for us now, we were in the company of people with more power than we could imagine. There was nothing left to do except to go along with whatever they wanted from us. I stared at the teacup and felt dread wash over me like the white waters of an enchanted river. The scent of that jasmine was sinister and yet oddly familiar.

I tried to place the saucer over the top of the cup to make the smell go away. As I did, I saw a logo on the bottom of the saucer. Terciel. A glimpse flashed before my eyes of willow trees and a six-year-old boy with blond hair.

I didn't remember his name or what he meant to me. Despite myself, I smiled.

"Tahil," I whispered to myself. "He always called it Terciel."