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me. “Yes, baby, a U-haul.”
    I sighed and nodded. “I packed the mural.”
    “I knew I was missing something. I’m going to do one more walk through while you finish getting dressed,” he said.
    I let him do his last search of our home without me looking over his shoulder. Instead, I stepped into the cabin where a gas lamp sat on the rustic table. The soft glow filled the room and I slid into the warm coat and slipped the helmet over my head, tightening all the components until I had a snug fit. The gloves actually snapped onto the parka, creating a buffer between me and the frigid air outside and I got one on and had to wait for Damian to help me snap the other one in place.
    He stepped out with the backpack in his hand and gave me a quick scan before his lips twisted into a smile.
    “I guess that is a look,” he mumbled and slid the backpack over my arms and secured it around my waist before he snapped the gloved hand I raised to him. Damian crouched down and snapped the pants to my boots as well before standing and staring at me through the dark helmet glass.
    “Are you ready?”
    Ready. The question gave me pause and I glanced around at the barren cabin before giving him a nod. The knot in my stomach twisted the moment he reached for the door knob and I almost stopped him. Instead, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. My exhale steamed up the visor and I stepped out into the night behind him.
    Before the fog cleared, the strong grasp of his talon wrapped around me and I was flying. With each beat of his mighty wings we rose higher into the sky and I forgot about my pang of sadness in leaving our home behind. I forgot just about everything except for the exquisite rush filling my blood and the panoramic view of the mountains below. I had never experienced flying with Damian from human eyes and it was even more exhilarating than I recalled, especially with little more than a chill penetrating the cocoon of fabric wrapped around me.
    Damian seemed to understand my joy and he swooped like a rollercoaster, his c ry sounded much more like a laugh than the scream of a hawk. When he went into a roll, my scream bounced around the interior of my helmet, nearly drowning out his cry. If I was prone to a weak stomach, this flight would have been my undoing, but the moment we landed, I flipped my visor back and spun to face his bemused expression.
    “Can we do that again?”
    His laugh filled the dark alley and the beep of a security system answered my question.
    “Maybe , when we get settled wherever we end up,” he said and opened the passenger door for me, helping me strip off the backpack before I climbed into the cab.
    He slid into the driver’s seat and grinned at me. “I keep forgetting just how much you like to fly,” he said and started the engine.
    “I hate airplanes,” I mumbled and pulled the helmet off, putting it behind the seat in the small storage space. I shook my head, freeing the curls from the make-shift bun and running my fingers through my hair before I glanced in his direction.
    “What?” I asked at his intense stare.
    “Nothing,” he said and put the vehicle in gear, navigating the side streets until he pulled onto Interstate 76 heading east.
    I peeled off the snow pants and tucked them behind the seat, shifting the jeans to make the remaining layers of clothing fall into a more comfortable position. The radio was useless and after fifteen minutes of fiddling with it, I gave up and turned the static off. Damian glanced at me and then back at the road, that amused expression still formed on his handsome face.
    “You don’t need to stay up with me if you don’t want to,” he said and pat his thigh. “And if you need a pillow, you can use my leg.”
    “Why are you being so accommodating all of a sudden?”
    He exhaled and glanced at me. “I ’m not. I’m just thinking you’d like to get some rest if you were planning on driving all day.”
    It made sense, but I wasn’t the least