Cannot Unite

by Jackie Ivie

  “But…they’re killing him!”

  “Hush, HanRick, before they hear! They won’t kill the champion. Not when he has a fight next sennight!”

  “But listen! He’s not even conscious!”

  “Oh. He’s conscious.”

  “How do you know?”

  “He flexes with the blows? You see? Aware. And waiting.”

  “Waiting for what?”

  “Their arms to tire…or the specified count to finish. I don’t know how many lashes he earned for this escape.”

  “You mean attempt.”

  That was another voice into the mix. Older. Frail-sounding. Cautious.

  “They’ll still kill him!”

  “Lower your voice! Imbecile! They’re using restraint. KayNan recognizes it as well.”

  “Restraint?”

  “Aye. They’re using straight whips, not the flagrum. And that’s Mehmed in the center. You know his arm is puny. His blows lack sting. He’s probably not even breaking skin.”

  “Aye. While Yashid has the bullwhip. Less damage. Even if he tries to power through his blows.”

  “They’re still whipping him!”

  “Shut up, HanRick before they hear you!”

  “So? What more can they do to me?”

  “They’ll use you! Fool!”

  “Use me…for what? I can’t heft chains, let alone fight with them.”

  “They’ll use you against KayNan! You know the rules! No emotion. Remember?”

  Jeannette was cold. Faint. Shaky. She was going to be ill. For the first time in her life, a vision was causing real physical symptoms. And then the guard fellow passed her, so close he ruffled the hem of her skirt with his proximity. She froze, conquered any reaction, and then had to will her pulse to calm, too. She’d never been so frightened.

  She heard a cry. Chains rattling. A blow. Then another. And then the youth yelled for KayNan, his cry loud and heart-rending, until it got choked off. Jeannette’s heart ticked up another notch, startling her with the intensity and strength. Surely, KayNan wouldn’t allow them to hurt the boy. Would he?

  Her feet moved involuntarily, her hands gripping bricks to hold her upright. She didn’t want to know more. She didn’t want to see. She didn’t want anything to do with it. She wanted her little shop in Philly. The little piece of square footage she called her own. She longed for her chest containing all sorts of dried herbs and teas; the little cash register that was rarely used; the credit card/debit terminal. She wanted normal. Mundane.

  Sane.

  A torture scene came into view, a man at the center, stretched out by iron cuffs on every limb, and those were attached to walls with lengths of chain. He was on his belly, atop a large barrel-looking thing. Four men hovered near him, three with whips.

  Smack. Slap. Slap.

  Oh no. No. It was KayNan.

  The unarmed one looked pretty large. Stocky. Dressed in the same type robe and ghotra as the guard had been. He stood at KayNan’s head, watching, his arms folded atop what looked to be a hefty belly. The others were on either side of KayNan’s body, using their whips in a series of three. One heavy smack, followed by two light, sliding slaps. This was the source of the rhythmic sounds she’d heard earlier. Shivers rippled along her limbs while her belly churned warningly. She couldn’t be ill. She had to get beyond the weakness. The shivers. The cold. She was about to violate another rule. She had to do something to stop it.

  Those whisperers had been mistaken. The first man had a lot of power to his whip. Each smacking blow rocked KayNan’s body slightly, and sent pink mist into the air above him. That fellow definitely broke through skin. KayNan’s back looked like fresh, ground meat.

  Jeannette gagged, shoved a hand against her mouth to stifle the reaction, while everything wavered. The view blurred with a wash of tears. She blinked them down her cheeks. More came. She stepped forward. She had to stop this! And at the first move, the view altered, grew dark about the edges, while the flesh about her nose started tingling. Oh, sweet heaven. She really was going to faint. During a session. She couldn’t comprehend what might happen. And then KayNan lifted his head and saw her. His vivid green eyes went to slits…

  “Damn you, Woman!”

  Jeannette dangled from KayNan’s hands, holding her beneath the arms to where her head brushed the plane’s ceiling. If perishing of fear were possible, she was suffering it. Especially at the expression behind those same green eyes as he glared at her.

  “I told you I didn’t wish to relive any of it!”

  Jeannette didn’t think through her next move, she just did it, lifting an arm and holding her palm to his cheek. Her touch changed everything, stilling him, shocking them both. If he’d been angry, it was now dissipated. Calmed.

  “Oh, KayNan,” Jeannette whispered.

  “Don’t say it.”

  “What?”

  She brought her other hand up, cupping the other side of his face. That was strange, but her palms stung from the contact. If she checked, they were probably scraped. As if she’d really been there. At that place.

  “I don’t want your pity. Or your compassion.”

  Fresh tears made him glitter. She blinked them onto her cheeks, clearing the view.

  “What…do you want?” she managed to whisper past cold lips.

  He started shaking. His eyes darkened. Loomed larger. More intense. Captivating. Enthralling. He lifted his upper lip, displaying fangs. And then the cockpit door slid open. Both Jeannette and KayNan turned to look as the pilot craned his head back, slid his headset off, and then grinned.

  “Oh. Apologies. I need you KayNan. Front and center.”

  “Now?”

  “Right now. We’ve got company. And they mean business.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “Where?” KayNan asked it after a quick scan revealed nothing amiss in the night sky.

  “Left wing. Ten o’clock. Forty-Five degrees. Up.”

  “Got them. Hunters?”

  “Most likely.”

  “They’re not running lights?”

  “Nope. Neither are we.”

  “How’d you spot them?”

  “I work for V.A.L., Bud. I’m no spring chicken. And I got skills.”

  “And that means?”

  KayNan wasn’t amused. He didn’t keep the rumble from his voice, but managed to stop the tightening of his entire frame. Vaughn glanced over his shoulder and grinned again before looking back out at darkness.

  “Listen, Bud. I got the pink slip from Sasha last year. Seems her mate likes to learn. And he likes to fidget. And he likes to fly his own jets now. Laid off. Me. Hell. Getting fired by you would be a cakewalk.”

  “Vaughn—”

  He bit the name off, tamping the threat. He didn’t need his mate more worried. Especially after the fright he’d just given her. He didn’t need to ask. It was obvious. The woman perched atop his thigh kept trembling for some reason.

  That’s right, KayNan. She’s atop. His left thigh. That close!

  He gulped.

  The moment Vaughn interrupted them KayNan had reacted, moving in a blink of time. One moment he’d been standing, going through all sorts of long dead and forgotten emotions, and the next he was squatting in the cockpit doorway with her. His mate. Cocooned in his arms. Atop a bent thigh. It was bothersome, in a peripheral way. And it was wholly wondrous. Especially so. KayNan tilted his head to fill his nostrils with her unique smell, wondering at that, as well. It was almost like he breathed!

  He was in luck that the cockpit wasn’t designed for standing, allowing this sort of position. She hadn’t demurred, but he hadn’t made it optional, either. So he held her, and tried keeping his mind on what Vaughn was showing and saying, and not on the buttocks perched atop his bent thigh. Or the breasts pressing against his forearms. Or the slightest thump of an elevated pulse along her throat, drawing his glance more than once. Everything about her radiated some sort of magnetic field toward him, one that contained a warm,
sensual, personal-type pulsation. And it grew in depth and volume the longer they stayed connected.

  He was right. It was total wonder.

  “All right. I’ll amend that. Not an exact cake-walk, but she likes to rip hearts out, whereas you? You’re a barbarian who uses chains. And look there. I forgot to bring any. How are you with straps?”

  KayNan growled warningly. He growled. His mate jumped slightly, and every bit of KayNan got jolted with reaction. That brought dormant wants and needs awake. Aware. Enervated. Heightened. His trousers were restrictive. Erotic-feeling against him. Hell. Even the dress shirt fabric felt erotic against his nipples.

  “All right. I’ll explain. Geez. Vampires. You want to stay covert, you get skills. And you practice them. This one isn’t hard. I slow down every time we reach a cloudbank. Always have. Barely maintain flight mph. Makes it so if I am being tailed, they’re going to shoot right past me. So…when we emerge, I am now the one with the upper hand. And there you have it. I am now following him. It’s hide-and-seek. Aviation style. And I am now it.”

  “How long have they been there?”

  “Just.”

  “I don’t see anything,” Jeannette said.

  “Here.”

  The pilot dangled a set of night-vision goggles over his shoulder. Jeannette reached for them, brushing her arm along KayNan’s chest as she went. The contact sparked. Tingled. And then heated. Rapidly. It also carried over to every bit of where they connected. He tried ignoring her movements to don the goggles, and then look out at what was black sky. Then she craned her neck and cocked her head to the left, barely missing his shoulder. KayNan groaned softly.

  “So…what’s the plan?” Vaughn asked.

  “What’s our listed destination?”

  “Calgary. As usual.”

  “We close?”

  “No…but I’ve been following the border for the last half hour. Easier to hide and disappear that way. In the event the good ole U.S. of A. has the imaging systems I think they do.”

  “Good. You continue on, then. We’re leaving.”

  “Right. How, please?”

  “Jumping.”

  His mate stiffened. He tightened an arm reflexively, bringing her head to the space right beneath his chin. Without thought.

  “You can’t jump from a jet, KayNan. That’s why we don’t stock parachutes. Waste of time…although they make full plane chutes now. We could’ve had them installed. But it’s a bit late now.”

  “What?”

  “Jets this size don’t have evac slides. They don’t have access points. The doors are sealed due to the slipstream. We do have eject seats in the cockpit, though. And that’s about it.”

  “Slipstream?”

  “Air. Against the door. Seals it shut. Never mind. Probably not an issue for one of you guys. Besides, most incidents happen on takeoff or landing. No use jumping from there. And any mid-air issue is handled by gliding down and landing. Unless you slam into a mountain or something, of course. And then it’s kind-a moot.”

  “You have an eject seat, then?”

  “Yep. Just said so.”

  “Then we’re jumping.”

  “Okay. I’ll amend that, too. You can jump from anything. D. B. Cooper proved you can even jump from a jumbo jet. But it’s risky. Hell. It’s damn near suicidal.”

  “I’m already dead.”

  “True. But you are not alone.”

  “I’m taking her.”

  “Vampires. Got to love them. Listen, KayNan. Taking a door out depressurizes the cabin, gives me all kinds of hell to deal with. You know…things like altitude and wind shear, and loss of cabin pressure. It’ll be a bit wild. And don’t forget – our friends next door will most likely notice.”

  “Can we play this hide and seek again with them?”

  “Unlikely. They’re onto me now. They’re probably debating whether to blow us up or not since I spotted them.”

  Jeannette sucked in air. He felt it.

  “Why would they do that?” KayNan asked.

  “It’d take hours to get a search party up to this bit of wilderness. They’d have lots of time. Let’s see. They’d have one missing plane with a dead, half-turned pilot. They’d have a verified kill on a senior V.A.L. associate. Hell. They probably have an award patch ready with your name on it. There are only a couple of things stopping them.”

  “What?”

  “One, they can’t get a clear shot. I’m keeping the angle difficult. And I’m constantly moving. That’s a big rule of staying alive, you know. Keep moving. That’s how I knew they were serious. I make a move, they copy it.”

  “How much time do we have?”

  “What?”

  “Once I jump. How much time will I have before they notice?”

  “You’re determined to leave me hanging, aren’t you?”

  “What?”

  “The moment you slam your way through the fuselage, I’ll be hitting the eject switch. Your beautiful multi-million dollar jet will be history. Not that you vampires seem to care about greenbacks, but there you go. Jet down. Presumed missing. We disable the black boxes, too. Just so you know. And since the accident happened somewhere on the Canadian-US border, it should create some sort of international consternation before anyone even starts a search. And by then, I’ll be long gone. No sense hanging around for the fat lady to sing.”

  “What fat lady?” KayNan really needed a course on modern vernacular.

  “It’s a euphemism for finale. End of story. Finis.”

  “Why don’t you just say that, then?”

  “Not near as fun. Look. KayNan. We’ll have a little time. Those Hunters will have to figure out where to land. They’ll probably be on full alert, ignoring the second reason we have not already been blasted out of the sky. All that said…you got maybe half-an-hour head start.”

  “What about you?”

  “Me? I’ll be yesterday’s lunch. Adios Amigo. Good riddance. Dead meat. I’ll be on survival tactics. A shadow. You got stores hidden, right?”

  “Every fifty kilometers.”

  “Good. Expect me to show up at your place…oh, by tomorrow afternoon.”

  “What’s the second thing?” Jeannette asked it, the slightest whiff of breath cursing him to another round of reaction.

  “What second thing, Sweetheart?” Vaughn asked.

  “The second reason they aren’t blowing us up?”

  “Oh. You. They know I’ve got you. His mate. And you might not be turned yet. And that makes it murder of a real human, not just elimination of the undead and partially undead.”

  “His…mate? Turned? Oh, no. No.”

  Her voice warbled slightly. KayNan swiveled and stood, eyeing the door he was about to obliterate.

  “Oh shit. You didn’t tell her yet? Damn it. I’m going to get fired yet.”

  “KayNan. No. We have to talk. I mean no.”

  “Later.”

  “No. Please, no. No.”

  She was still denying and he was ignoring. Or doing his best at it. She put a hand to his cheek, much like before, and used the hold to drag his eyes to hers.

  “Hey, Buddy! You may want to grab a space blanket!”

  Vaughn yelled it. KayNan yanked his gaze from hers and sneered back at the man.

  “Why?”

  “It’s going to be cold.”

  “Yeah? Well, I’m dead.”

  “Vampires. Geez. What about your mate?”

  The man tossed a hard package at him. A smack gave the contents air, and a moment later it was a blanket-thing, with quilted material on one side, and metallic silver fabric on the other.

  “KayNan no. Please? No. This is too fast. We have to talk. We have to discuss this rationally. Without emotion. Are you listening to me?”

  No. He wasn’t. He was folding her in the space blanket thing, grabbing her up, and then he launched right through the side of his jet.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Their fall was swift and smooth. At firs
t. Jeannette had never felt safer. More secure. Almost like this entire chain of events was fated and well-ordered. And if she closed her eyes…

  What was she thinking? She didn’t dare violate Rule Number One again.

  Jeannette’s eyes snapped open. She stopped the wooziness with a good dose of rapid breathing. Massive blinking. She was about to try singing when their freefall started dragging with intermittent jerks, almost like he was using tree limbs to slow their descent. Jeannette peeked. What a bonus. She still wore the night vision goggles. Wind speed didn’t hamper her vision, nor did the dark, although everything had a strange greenish cast. Just like films always showed.

  Nice to know movie-making people had it accurate.

  Well, Jeannette. Look at that. It hadn’t just felt like KayNan was slapping against trees. He was slapping at them, and then grabbing at broken limbs. It wasn’t to slow them. It looked more like he was breaking off wood to bring it along.

  “What are you doing?”

  If anyone had told her she’d be talking in a moderate, calm voice, despite falling out of the sky and then swooping among treetops, carried in a man’s arm, well. She’d have labeled them crazy. And been right.

  “Gathering firewood,” he answered.

  “Firewood?”

  “Yeah.”

  He reached out with his free arm and smacked another limb free, caught the resultant chunk of wood, and his speed kept them from the blizzard of slivers he was probably leaving in their wake.

  “Why?”

  “Humans have four requirements of survival: Shelter. Water. Food. And I think…fire. I’m preparing.”

  “Actually, if you study physiology, you’d know its shelter, water, food, and—”

  Sex.

  Oh geez. She’d almost said it. Jeannette sucked in her bottom lip as he looked down at her. Damn. He even looked good with a greenish haze coloring him. And he was just too close. Thank goodness the goggles gave her an inch or so of space.

  “Not fire?” he asked.

  “Uh…forget I said anything, okay?”

  “Is this another bit of modern verbiage I don’t understand?”

  “No. And yes. We’ll just call it fire. I’m good with that,” she replied.