by Jane Godman
He couldn’t talk about the night Moncoya got away. That would incite her to instant, boiling fury. In fact, it was probably best to steer clear of anything to do with her father.
“What was it like training with the Valkyries?”
Vashti withdrew her gaze from the darkness beyond the porthole and Jethro was conscious of that blue gaze assessing him. He was fairly sure he fell short of the required standard. “Demanding.” She turned away again.
“And growing up in the faerie palace?”
There was that stare again. Bland, blue and impossible to read. “Luxurious.”
This was becoming a challenge. Get her to say more than one word. “It must have been hard when your father was defeated.”
“Are you making conversation?”
He grinned. “I’m trying to.”
“Please don’t.”
With a feeling of amused irritation—the princess has spoken, I’ve been dismissed—Jethro lapsed into silence.
* * *
So far Vashti had survived her first forty-eight hours in the mortal realm without anything too alarming taking place. The noise and the sheer number of people moving around were the hardest things to deal with. How they could possibly know what they were doing, where they were going and how to avoid bumping into each other, was beyond her comprehension, yet somehow it seemed to work.
Although she would never admit it, Vashti was glad of Jethro. Keeping up with his long strides as he’d marched first through the ferry terminal, then the airport, had given her a sense of purpose that meant she hadn’t stood in the midst of the chaos simply gazing around her like a lost soul. He’d even taken the trouble to explain that extreme reactions like drop-kicking the woman who’d jostled her at the airport check-in desk or throat-punching the man who’d regarded her appreciatively before stepping uncomfortably close as they’d boarded the plane would be considered inappropriate in the mortal realm. They would even, he explained with unexpected patience, attract undue attention and land her in trouble.
“They should keep their distance,” she had grumbled as they’d taken their seats on the plane.
“They don’t know you’re a princess. To them you’re an ordinary person.”
Frustrated when her seat belt didn’t do what she wanted it to, Vashti tried to wrench it out of place. With something that sounded suspiciously like a long-suffering sigh, Jethro had showed her how to fasten it.
“Oh.” She had leaned back in her seat, digesting the information. Ordinary. She had been described as many things during her life. Never that.
Jethro had slept during much of the long plane journey. He’d slumbered like a cat, falling asleep instantly and deeply, but waking alert and watchful. While he’d dozed, Vashti had watched movies and observed her fellow passengers.
The man who had eyed her up earlier was seated across the aisle and one row in front. He was tall and slender with long, fair hair. He was traveling with a woman and the two of them seemed to exist in their own separate bubbles. Together yet apart. Vashti speculated on their relationship. As if aware of her gaze, the man looked in Vashti’s direction. Recognizing her, he grinned admiringly. The scowl she gave him in return seemed to have the desired effect and he turned away once more.
Each time Jethro did stretch his long body and open those melting dark eyes, it seemed to Vashti a flight attendant appeared as if by magic. “Do women always look at you like that?”
“Like what?” He paused in the act of devouring a sandwich.
She wrinkled her nose in an effort to find the right words. “Like they want something from you.”
His lips twitched and she got the distinct impression he was trying not to laugh. “Sometimes.”
She sighed. “I will never understand mortals.”
“We’re a fairly uncomplicated lot if you give us a chance.” He jerked a thumb toward the plane window. “The United States. Home.”
Vashti leaned across him to get a better view. “I have heard of it even in Otherworld. It doesn’t look uncomplicated to me.” It looked like an uneven jumble of architecture and water and greenery. What if I get lost down there? She turned her head to voice the question but the words died on her lips.
Her face was inches from Jethro’s, her shoulder pressed against his. Physical contact that was uncomfortably pleasant. It was a first. Something strange started happening inside her chest. As if her heart was insistently trying to pound its way out of her body. His nearness was delivering sensory overload. Every part of her was achingly aware of his scent, as though she had imbibed it through her pores. Not the smell of his cologne. Beneath that. The scent of him. Dark, spicy and seductive. It made her shudder ever so slightly. At least, she hoped the quivering movement was slight. She would hate to think Jethro could feel it.
Her eyes were drawn insistently to his mouth. Why had she never noticed the perfection of that luscious slope to his lower lip? Or the stubble outlining his upper lip that had darkened as their journey progressed. It was so tempting to reach out her finger to find out if the bristles were as coarse as they looked. She actually had to fight the impulse at the same time she was resisting the urge to trace the small cleft in his chin with her fingertips. And his eyes...
“Dark and bright at the same time.” Tell me I didn’t say that out loud.
“Pardon?”
Aware that she was still nestled close against him, Vashti sat up straight. “Is this our destination?” In an effort to distract him, she pointed at the city unfolding below them.
Jethro shook his head. “No, that’s one more stopping-off point.”
“Tell me we don’t have to stand in another line.”
He grinned. “Sorry.”
Vashti groaned and slumped back in her seat. The action drew the attention of her admirer across the aisle and he turned his head again. “That guy over there keeps looking at me,” Vashti complained in an undertone to Jethro.
“Vampires,” he said it dismissively. “They’ve been with us since we stepped through the portal on Orkney.”
She took a moment to digest this information. “They are following us?”
“Well, if we’re going to be precise about it, they’re following me. Blatantly. They do it all the time.”
“Why?” She gave the vampire another glare and he mimed placing a hand over his heart in mock hurt.
“Because your friend the vampire prince has sworn to have me killed. Every vampire from here to the far end of Otherworld will earn their master’s undying—no pun intended—gratitude if they can present Tibor with my head.”
“So why doesn’t this one kill you now and get it over with?”
Jethro grinned. “I’m a necromancer. I’m not that easy to kill. Tibor sends his bloodsuckers along to remind me of his pledge. It’s a little game he likes to play.”
It might be a game, but the smug vampire was seriously annoying Vashti. “I’ll fix them.”
She unbuckled her seat belt and made a move to rise from her seat. Jethro grabbed her around the waist, pulling her back down and holding her still when she tried to squirm away from him.
“You are playing by mortal rules now. Murdering two people in full view of the other passengers on an international flight tends to be frowned upon.”
“Even vampires?”
He started to laugh, the sound vibrating through his chest where it came into contact with her shoulders as he held her against him. It was an effective way of distracting her from thoughts of vampire killing.
“Even vampires. The other people on this plane don’t know those two are vampires. Tibor and his followers have evolved to the point where they can spend time in the mortal realm and blend in here. It’s daylight. That guy doesn’t need a coffin filled with the soil of his homeland. I could produce a crucifix right now and he
’d only look a bit queasy. If you drew a silver dagger on him, he’d put up a hell of a fight. If you won—and I’m sure you would—he’d die like a mortal.” He cast a glance across the aisle at the back of the vampire’s head. “But, unless you staked and decapitated him, he’d rise again. They haven’t evolved that far.”
“Tibor isn’t my friend.” Vashti didn’t know why, but it mattered to her that Jethro should understand that. “Why does he want you dead?”
Jethro let her go and she tried to quell the tiny feeling of disappointment. “Do you remember his human servant, the one called Dimitar?” Vashti nodded as she buckled up again. “Dimitar suddenly decided he wanted to be my servant not Tibor’s. I have no idea why. I didn’t want a servant...but we became friends.” His mouth thinned into a hard line. “Tibor had us hunted down. Dimitar lost his immunity to a vampire’s bite once he left the prince’s service. Tibor’s followers captured us and chained us up in a dungeon in Tangiers. They couldn’t exert any mind control over me, so they beat me and made me watch while they came every night and bit Dimitar.”
“How did he manage to chain you? I’ve seen you fight. You can overpower half a dozen men. You can certainly take out a few vampires.”
Was it her imagination or did Jethro look slightly sheepish? “I was tricked. There was this girl and, well...it’s a long story. Let’s just say I wasn’t concentrating.”
Vashti took a moment to assimilate what he was saying. “Oh. How did you escape?”
“Lorcan freed me, but it was too late for Dimitar. His transformation was complete by the time Lorcan arrived.”
“So he is one of them now?”
Jethro’s eyes seemed darker than ever. “No. I couldn’t let that happen to him. As a vampire, he’d have been Tibor’s plaything for all eternity. That blood-sucking bastard would have made him pay daily for switching his allegiance.”
“What did you do?”
“I staked and decapitated him. Then Lorcan and I buried Dimitar in Tangiers before we left.”
It occurred to Vashti that she should say something comforting. That was what Stella would do. It seemed to be the mortal way. So she searched around for a form of words that sounded right. “That’s what friends are for.”
Jethro’s helpless laughter continued almost until they landed. When they left the plane they were in another airport, similar to the one they had departed from but larger and busier. Vashti moved surreptitiously closer to Jethro. “Does Tibor have you followed everywhere?”
“Pretty much. Although I’m honored this time. He doesn’t usually send two.”
Sure enough, they had to wait in another line. It must be a mortal thing. “How do you stand it?”
Jethro shrugged. “At least, being a necromancer, I can spot a vampire easily. They are the undead. They can’t sneak up on me. My other stalker poses more of a problem.”
“Iago?” The powerful sorcerer who was in league with Moncoya had sworn to kill Jethro, Lorcan, Cal and Stella in revenge for the death of Niniane, the Lady of the Lake, during the great battle for control of Otherworld.
“Yes. He’s a sneaky little trickster. The guy thinks it’s funny to take on different guises to keep his opponents guessing, and he’s good at it. He could be anyone in this line. Or he could be the dog that snaps at my heels in the park, the seagull that shits on my head, the cop that gives me a ticket, the man-eating lion around the next corner... You get the picture.” He glanced around, lowering his voice so no one else could hear. “My necromancing powers don’t work against him. I have to rely on brute strength, which is fine if he’s in his own form, not so great if he decides to be a grizzly bear. And here in the mortal realm, I’m on my own. At least in Otherworld, we were four against one. Those are the kinds of odds we need against Iago.”
“You aren’t on your own.” Jethro raised his brows in response to her words. “I’m here.”
“Does this mean I have a Valkyrie-trained faerie princess on my side?”
“No, it means I won’t stand by and watch while you get killed.” They reached the desk and the conversation halted while Vashti produced the documents Cal had provided her with.
“Isn’t that the same thing?” Jethro asked as they finally exited the vast building.
“If I observe while Iago kills you, you won’t find the challenger. That’s not the same as me being on your side. You haven’t found yourself a new friend.”
“Funnily enough, I wasn’t considering you as a replacement for Dimitar. While I might be glad of your help against Iago, I don’t think you’d make great sidekick material.”
It was a good thing Jethro knew where he was going. The noise and bustle had increased to a whole new level. Vashti paused, looking around with a mixture of trepidation and wonder. “I’m not. You’ll have to be the sidekick.”
Chapter 4
Vashti looked from Jethro to the small aircraft and back again with an expression of disbelief. “You are going to fly this thing?”
After they had made their way out of the large airport building, Jethro had made his way through the crowds of people to a bus. This had taken them across the vast airport complex and deposited them on the other side. Trying not to show her confusion, Vashti had followed Jethro as he showed identification to a guard on a gate and then made his way onto an airfield.
He grinned. “Are you asking to see my pilot certification?”
“No, I’m walking away.”
Jethro shrugged, throwing his bag into the plane. “Seems a strange way to observe me—particularly since you don’t know where I’m going—but, as I said, I’m not waiting around for you.”
Vashti bit her lip. The message was clear. Go with him or be stranded. “You really know how to do this?”
“I have over a thousand hours flying time and a commercial pilot’s license.”
He swung into the cockpit. Swallowing her nervousness, Vashti walked around to the other side of the aircraft and clambered into the passenger seat. It was a cramped space. Behind the seats there was a small space, barely large enough to stow their bags. She watched Jethro’s hands as they busied themselves checking the various instruments. They were strong, capable hands and she was about to place her life in them. “What does that mean?”
“It means if I wanted to, I could make my living as a pilot.”
“Wouldn’t you need your own plane to do that?”
“This is my plane.” His glance flickered her way briefly. “One of them.”
Vashti studied his profile. The concentration on his face was absolute. She started to relax. “Maybe you should think about doing this instead of being a mercenary.”
“It doesn’t pay as well.” One corner of his mouth lifted in a wry smile. “Although it would be a hell of a lot safer.” He held out a pair of headphones. “Put these on. Once the engines start, you’ll need them. It gets noisy and the only way we can talk to each other will be through the microphones.”
After a few final checks, Jethro started the engines and the little craft juddered into life. Completely at home with the confusing array of controls, he steered it out onto the open runway, listening to the instructions in his earpiece.
“What are we waiting for?” Vashti frowned as they stopped.
“Our turn. We’re in a queue.”
“Can’t we go to the front anyway?”
“No, because we have a thing here called manners.”
She groaned and rolled her eyes. “I wish I was mortal so I could wait around in more lines.”
Jethro took his eyes off the runway long enough to cast a sidelong glance in her direction. “Just what I don’t need when I’m trying to concentrate...a sarcastic faerie in my earpiece.”
They were moving forward again now, gaining pace rapidly, and Vashti forgot her impatience as the plane r
ose off the ground, wobbling from side to side as it seemed to struggle to find its balance. The airfield below them grew smaller and then the world tilted as Jethro banked the plane around to the right. Vashti fought the impulse to grab his arm and force him to bring it back so it was level again. The contrast between the jet they had traveled on earlier when there had been no sensation of movement and this plane that swayed and bobbed as it climbed higher into the blue sky could not have been more marked.
“How long will it take?” She was suddenly aware of feeling intensely tired. Perhaps it was as a result of not having slept for two nights. Or maybe it was the nerves caused by wondering if this fragile little craft was going to hurtle to the ground at any minute.
“It will depend on the wind, but it’s not too bad today. Less than an hour.”
An hour of living on a knife edge of pressure. I can cope with that. And there were compensations. Being this close to Jethro wasn’t the hardship she had always imagined it would be. How have I gone from loathing physical contact to craving it in such a small space of time? She studied her own slender, jeans-clad thigh as it bumped against the muscular length of Jethro’s leg with the movement of the plane. But it wasn’t just anyone she wanted in her personal space. It was him. The thought annoyed her as much as it thrilled her. I don’t even like this man, yet here I am hoping he’ll tilt the plane again so I get thrown up against him! How pathetic is that?
Nevertheless, she took the opportunity to lean across him to ask questions about various landmarks, reveling in his warm breath on her cheek and his upper arm resting casually against her breast. Having never been a schoolgirl, I didn’t get the chance to have a schoolgirl crush. I’m making up for lost time with a vengeance. Her body seemed to be suddenly awakening to a world of new possibilities. All of them directed toward the wrong man.