An Immigration and Customs official met them on the tarmac, stamped their passports, and welcomed them to the country. Once those formalities were complete, Cooper excused himself and jogged over to a building that served as the airfield’s terminal. Alex and Deuce used the time to stretch muscles that had been cramped by hours of flight. Deuce eyed the dark countryside. “So, this is where Dracula’s from, right?” Alex shook her head. “That’s north of here. Probably a couple hundred miles.” “Oh,” Deuce said. He looked around some more. “That’s probably good, huh?” “You do know Dracula’s fictional, right?” “Sure. But it’s always good to be safe.” There were times when Alex didn’t know if Deuce was messing with her or just being Deuce. It was part of his charm—when it wasn’t annoying.
