Possessed hearts - стр. 47

I was wearing a short leopard-striped dress, a short leather jacket, black boots on high thick heels. A bag with my documents, smartphone and MacBook. That's all I need.

Ahead is the loss of a part of my life again. The long journey back to Europe. Once again, flying halfway across the world back for salvation. To Misha.

Toronto – Boston – Reykjavik – Stockholm. I'll be there at 12 noon.

At the airport I checked the weather in Stockholm: it's going to be clear, warm and sunny.

But I don't care. Besides, it's not a problem at all.

Upon landing in Stockholm, I texted Misha a brief, "Are you home?"

"We're at the cottage on Venerna," she replied succinctly.

Shit. So they're not in their Stockholm home, but in the cottage where they lived before moving to the capital. The lake house. We'll have to go there.

"Are you in Stockholm?!" – came a new message from Misha a couple of seconds later.

I stopped at the airport exit, avoiding the sunlight falling just a metre away from me. I needed a car with tinted windows. But I didn't see one in the taxi rank. Without thinking, I called the right place, and half an hour later, a limousine came to pick me up. With almost black windows. I asked the driver to park as deep in the shadows of the airport as possible, and the people around me watched in amazement as I quickly got into the car.

"Must be some kind of star. Have you seen it before?" – I heard a quiet female voice say.

– "Must be a model… Or a millionaire's wife. Yeah, well, look how much plastic surgery she has on her face!" – a second female voice replied in an affirmative tone.

Aha! Mistaking my vampire perfect beauty for plastic! Let them! Pathetic envious mortals!

But, fortunately, my person did not cause much of a furore, and the voices subsided as quickly as they had raised a low rumble of surprise.

"Coming to see you," I wrote to Misha, now safe from the sun. After thinking for a moment, I sent: "Is Fredrik with you? I hope I'm not disturbing you?".

"He's leaving. I'm waiting for you!!!" – Misha replied.

"He's leaving… Of course, he suddenly had some very important business to attend to! Misha should have only had to inform him of my upcoming visit!" – I smirked.

I left the limo at a small station near the lake. Misha came to pick me up in Fredrik's Mustang. Same old Mustang. It was high time to change it for something better and more modern. But of course Fredrik would never do that.

Thanks to a small cloud that covered the sun for a few seconds, I quickly slipped into Misha 's car, and we left the station, heading for a lake house I'd never been to before. Of course, I'd been invited a long time ago, and more than once, but I'd always failed to make the flight – my career had grown too fast over the past eight years.

Misha was beautiful: dressed in tight black jeans, her husband's long dark green T-shirt and sneakers. Her hair was damp and braided into a long shaggy braid, which, however, suited her pretty face.

– Since when did you start wearing your boring husband's clothes? – I asked with a laugh.

– When you wrote, I was swimming in the lake. There was no time to think about wardrobe, you know! – laughed at this Misha laughed. – So I wore the first thing I saw. Fredrik had just changed his shirt before he left, and left this one on the back of a chair in the living room.