With half an eyeroll, Marcie faced forwards. “Shall we go?” she said to Much, in a tone that said they were doing this damn thing regardless.
This was the first time (as far as Marcie knew) that Kaden had been outside of Hecate’s wards since the attack, and Marcie felt on edge, her eyes traveling along each face they passed, trying to assess each one in a split second, trying to spot risks. Much drove well, no sudden braking or anything to startle them, and she felt grateful for that. He must be able to sense their nerves. Much was a good friend.
By the time they reached the airport with a minimum of conversation, she was more than ready to get moving. The faint whir of jet engines was audible from the front entrance, and she looked up with a little blip of genuine excitement. Last time she’d been on a plane, she’d been on her way back from the best holiday ever, and the sound of the airport awoke a little of that nostalgia. Planes took you to good places. It was a good feeling.