Sacrifice (Dylan Hart Odyssey of the Occult) by Gilmore RM

Author:Gilmore, RM [Gilmore, RM]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Mac Gille Mhur
Published: 2014-02-03T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

Cyrus used his company credit card to buy all of our plane tickets. Mike protested at first, offering to pay for both our tickets, but Cyrus won. I mean literally won. The two raced to the ticket desk, credit cards in hand. They looked like fools. Like the douche bag derby. Vagasil is in the lead with Summer’s Eve in a close second.

I didn’t run. Oh, no, I never ran unless I was being chased. And for once, nothing was chasing me. Other than my purse, not one of us had a bag. We had nothing. Wallet, keys, phone, that’s it. Mike had to leave his service gun in the car. We had not one weapon among us. We were literally tits deep in shit and it was starting to stink.

The woman behind the desk flinched when Cyrus hit her counter at a full sprint. I could see her thoughts roll through her head even from yards away. Cyrus was after all Iranian, or Persian, rather, and not to be stereotypical, but let’s face it, shit happened. She looked even more terrified when she saw Mike coming up behind him as if he had been chasing him. All was well when Cyrus presented her his platinum card however.

Money fixed everything. Well, most everything; Sex and drugs do the rest.

Mike was very near to shoving Cyrus out of the way until it appeared his senses told him otherwise. Starting a full out brawl in the middle of LAX probably wasn’t the best idea. Patriot Act and all.

With tickets purchased and flight times approaching, we all power walked to the terminal. We’d barely made the flight time, and would be forced to wait another five hours for another flight to Louisiana.

Security was annoying, as usual, but it had to be done. When all was said and done, we were on the flight and ready for takeoff two hours after Cyrus sat in my living room pissing off my mom.

No words had been spoken during the drive to the airport. And other than the “I got this” argument that led to Death Race 2000, nothing had been said to one another in the airport either. It was time to change that.

In order for us all to be on the same flight, we had to take whatever seats they had available, but I wasn’t complaining. Cyrus had booked us first class; it wasn’t like we had to ride in the cargo hold or anything. But it did prove for a difficult conversation. I sat near the steward station near the magic curtain that separated the pee-ons from us cool folks. Mike was two seats up and one over from me, and Cyrus was in the seat two down from that. There was much that needed to be discussed; and not one word of it could be shouted across a quiet plane cabin.

As soon as the seat belt sign was off, Mike was standing and making his way to sit in the empty seat across the aisle from me.

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