“You humans. You're always looking for immediate gratification, aren't you? We'll see it in a few hours.”
“There's a bed and a flat screen,” she said. “This is going to be the most comfortable flight ever.”
“It's going to be odd,” he answered. “Being in the air and not being in control.”
“I can hold your hand if you're scared,” she teased him and he rolled his eyes.
“Let's find this lounge,” he said, taking her hand anyway. It sent shivers down her spine, and she squeezed as they lined up to drop off their baggage. She knew they were headed off to change the world, but she couldn't help but revel in the sense of adventure. Her life had been nothing but an endless sting of work, doctor's appointments, and class for so long. Even though the end of this mission could take a disastrous turn, she couldn't wait to get started.
“What do we do next?” he asked.
“Bags dropped, so security, I think,” she said, as they moved off. “I haven't flown in years, so that's a guess. But I really don't think they eliminated security in that time.”
“Security?” he asked. “For what? I'll take down anyone who threatens us.”
She gave him a sharp look, hoping that no one had heard him.
“Cole,” she said. “Number one rule of pretending to be human. You don't say anything threatening or even eyebrow raising in airports.”
“Why?” he asked, and she sighed.
“I'll teach you later. For now, just take my word for it.”
“Only because it's you,” he answered, as they entered the security line. But it appeared all her words of wisdom whizzed over his head as a security guard asked her to step out of the line for additional screening procedures.
Enya was perfectly willing to comply, but Cole shot daggers at the woman the entire time she was doing a pat down.
“How dare they?” he fumed. “How dare they single you out like that? You didn't do anything wrong!”
“I didn't,” she said. “But someone once did, and now they do everything they can to keep people safe.”
“Huh,” he said, listening this time. “Humans are more resilient than I thought.”
“We are,” she gave him a small smile as they moved with the crowds. “Here's the lounge, I think. You need your ticket. And it never occurred to me to ask where you got a fake passport.”
“Don't ask questions you don't want to know the answers to,” he said, giving her a wry smile back. “What are we supposed to do if we go in there?”
“Just...lounge?” she said. “I've never been inside one, but I hear rumors of free food and drink.”
“By all means,” he said, as he waved her inside. He was eager to get to their destination, but unlike dragons, planes didn’t fly whenever they wanted. The least he could do was make her happy until it was time to get there.
He noticed that she still hadn't called her parents, a thought that oddly saddened him. Enya seemed to have accepted her fate and given up on the life she had known. And while that was technically true, it still made him sorrowful. It wasn't fair that someone so young and otherwise vibrant would live a life where the reaper was right around the corner.
Inside the lounge was more of the luxury he was used to, with shiny marble, wide couches, and everyone with their noses in the air. They were surrounded by a buffet and free drinks lining the countertops.
“Well, that's more like it,” Cole said, as she sank onto the couch. “Do you want a drink?”
“I'm alright,” she replied. “But you might as well take advantage of it.”
“You should at least eat something, darling,” he said, pouring himself a glass of brandy and setting up a plate of food for her as he settled onto the couch.
To his surprise, the brandy was rich and smooth, and almost as good as at home.
“Perhaps Earth isn't so bad after all,” he said, puling up one leg onto the couch, “if the brandy is this potent.”
“I wish I could see your world,” she said. “If only so I had something to compare this to. You have such perspective on things, and I just feel so lost and so singular. It's frustrating.”
“You are used to having the most diverse perspective in the room,” he pointed out. “With so many languages under your belt. God, this is good.” Draining his glass, he stood up to get a second one. Enya laughed as he did.
“One would think you were dying of thirst,” she said, as he sat back down. “But I suppose you might as well enjoy it. When are we ever going to get a chance to do this again?”
“We will,” he promised her. “Luxury will be a life that you are used to by the time I am done.”
“What?” she asked, stunned. He swallowed, shaking his head and taking another drink.
“Just that I will be the King of this planet.”
“And I will be...”
“Cured,” he looked away. He wanted to say more, but he realized he really shouldn't. “And I will take care of you, no matter what happens. Of that much, you should be certain.”
“That's very kind of you,” she said. “Because you could just smite me with everyone else.”
“I don't plan to smite everyone,” he replied. “There is no glory in loneliness.”
She didn't say anything then, simply leaning against his shoulder. He slipped an arm around her, brushing back her hair and letting her close her eyes as he finished his drink.
The future was uncertain. But this moment was perfect. There was hope; there was happiness, and Cole knew it wouldn't stay like this.
By the time their plane was called, he had gone through four drinks, and he could feel his head buzzing. He thought that his tolerance was higher than any human’s, but he waivered as he stood.
“Oops,” Enya caught him as he nearly fell, sleep leaving her eyes. “Are you alright?”
“Fine,” he said, grinning. “I'm excited.”
“You look a little bit more than excited,” she said, as she got to her feet. “I see you enjoyed the open bar.”
“I enjoyed your company,” he responded as he reached for the carry-on suitcase and missed. She rolled her eyes, taking it from him as they headed towards the door.
“Just try to keep it together on the plane.”
“Enya,” he gave her a cheeky look. “I am a sovereign Prince who has attended many great feasts and banquets, raised a hand to warriors, and drank in their honor. In addition, your human metabolism is no match for me.”
She pulled him out of the way right before he walked into a post, distracted by his speech.
“You were saying?” she teased him, and he shook his head.
“Forget it, just get me on the plane.”
“That's what I thought,” she replied, as they joined the line to board.
Their apartment on the plane was everything she had dreamed of. It had a living room, a huge bathroom, and a double bed all at the front of the plane.
They even had their own private attendant, who would take care of anything they needed.
“Look at this television,” she marveled. “I think it's bigger than my whole apartment.”
He smirked at that
“It's quite possible,” he replied. “Although, I'm not sure why anyone needs such a big one.”
“There's a lot of things you don't understand about humans,” she replied. “And this is probably one of them. Look at the bed.”
She could feel the plane rumbling to life. She knew that outside of their own closed in little area there were hundreds of people crammed into the economy seats. But she was comfortable on the couch with Cole's arm around her as the wheels lifted off the ground.
“Cole,” she said, turning towards him. She could see the slight haze in his eyes and the cocky smile that lit up his face. “Thank you. For all of this, however it ends.”
He kissed her then, rough and passionately, as if he couldn't stand another moment without touching her. Everything about the kiss felt natural and right. She leaned into it, feelin
g his arms encircle her waist.
“Mmm,” she couldn't help but let a moan escape as their kiss deepened. He pushed her gently until she was lying on the couch, their seat belts undone and his lean, muscular body hard against hers as he lay on top of her. “Cole...”
He eventually pulled himself up long enough to meet her eyes.
“Yes?” he asked, his breath hot. They were panting, and her body was tingling with anticipation.
She had never done this before, but she knew that the moment was right.
“Should we continue this in the bedroom?”
He knew in an instant what she was asking. He didn't hesitate as he got up, pulling her hand. Once she was on her feet, he swept her into his arms, kissing her neck. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and they headed into the bedroom.
“Oh, God,” she said, as he undid her shirt. This was it, the moment she spent dreaming about and fantasizing about. And it was going to be with a dragon lord. She had never wanted anyone more thoroughly than she wanted him. And now, she would have him.
Chapter 8
“AH!” Enya awoke with a startle as the plane hit a bad area of turbulence. One moment, she had been asleep in the warm, soft bed, and the next, she was nearly tossed against the wall. Luckily, even half drunk and asleep, Cole's reflexes were fast. He grabbed her before she hit the wall, yanking her back against him. The plane bumped again, and she whimpered, moving into his arms. “I don't like this. I don't like this.”
“Shhh,” he said, rising slightly over her. His shirtless torso was warm and gleaming in the low light. He rose slightly over, his eyes open and his ears perked up. He reminded her so much of a dragon listening for danger. She knew that he would protect her from anything that he could. But he wasn't in control of this turbulence, and it felt like it was getting worse with every second. “It's OK. It's OK.”
Just as he said it, the plane dropped what felt like 15 feet. Her stomach dropped, and she heard the screams of the people in the back rows. It stabilized quickly, but the damage was done. She leaned over the side of the bed, gagging and then vomiting on the floor.
She was furious with herself, even as it happened. They had made love for at least half the flight, their passion tangled in sweat, limbs, and sheets 30,000 feet in the air. They had both just dropped off to sleep when the turbulence took over and now she was ruining it.
“Oh, God,” she whimpered, as he put a hand on her shoulder. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry.”
“It's OK, Enya,” he said, kissing the back of her head. “It's OK.”
Finally, she fell backwards onto the pillow. Her head was throbbing, and her mouth felt like sawdust. He managed to find a water bottle, handing it to her to take small sips.
“If I was flying the plane, this never would have happened,” he growled. “Some people just weren't meant to fly.”
“Could we do that with you as a dragon?” she asked. “Fly long distances like this?”
“Yes,” he replied. “It's absolutely possible. But I can't go as fast as this, of course. By myself, it's fine. But if you were to ride on my back, it might not be so pleasant.”
“You did seem pretty cuddly, though, when you transformed,” she put the water bottle down on the bedside table. “Should we call someone to clean up?”
“I think you should rest.” He pulled her back into his arms. “We can deal with things like that later.”
She sighed, curling into his side.
“This is what it's going to be like,” she said. “The whole time. Things are going to be fine and wonderful, and then my body is going to rebel against me.”
“Well,” he replied, “we will deal with those things when they come up. For now, everything will be fine, alright, my love?”
“Where did they teach you such compassion?” she asked. “In prince school?”
“Compassion?” the word surprised him. “Most people on my planet say that I have no compassion.”
“Well, they are wrong,” she said. “Of course, you do.”
Even after she slipped back into sleep, he contemplated the word.
Compassion.
There had been so many times that the people he had helped slaughter in battle begged him to have some. He and his brothers had been heroes on one side. But there were others who called him a villain, who called him a monster.
Yet, here was this innocent-hearted girl who called him compassionate. Who snuggled up to him like he was the safest place in the whole world.
When they finally landed, he was sober, but his head was a million miles away. He wanted to hear her say it again – that he was compassionate, that he was kind, that he was not the monster they screamed he was.
“Do you think you could help me?” she said, as they waited to exit the plane.
“With?” he asked, standing at the door, waiting for the signal.
“I feel like my legs might collapse if I walk right now,” she said, and he turned around in alarm.
“Enya?” he asked, in concern. “What can I do? How can I help?”
“Don't look so worried,” she said. “This just happens sometimes. Especially after I throw up, I get so shaky.”
“Tell me what to do,” he said, plainly. She gritted her teeth, and it was clear that she hated admitting weakness. But at this moment, she had no choice.
“Just ask them if they could get a wheelchair,” she said. He cocked his head, the word unfamiliar. They had been through this a few times, and she stayed still, looking him right in the eye. “Wheelchair.”
“Wheelchair,” he repeated, just as their private attendant came in.
“My girlfriend needs a wheelchair.”
That startled Enya more than the speed of the attendant entering the room.
“Do you know what that word means?” she asked as they were left alone.
“Wheelchair?” he asked.
“Girlfriend,” she replied.
“Oh,” he colored at that. “It was the easiest word. I didn't want...I mean... I wanted to honor you, so that people knew you weren't just my mistress.”
She laughed at that.
“Things are different on Earth. No one would think that. I supposed that they would think that of a Prince, but here you're just normal. We're just two young people traveling.”
“Normal.” He smirked at that. “I don't think anyone has ever described me using that word. If they have, it's usually proceeded by ‘why can't you be...’”
“My mother used to ask me that all the time as well,” she said. “Especially when everyone else around me would get a cold and I would get bronchitis or something.”
“Do I want to know what that is?” he asked, as the attendant arrived with a wheelchair.
“No,” she answered. “You do not want to know what that is.”
They had a layover between Belgium and Spain which Enya had originally thought was going to be an easy transition. But she could see there was something wrong as soon as they got out into the main section of the airport.
Nearly everyone was crowded around a single board, and she could see red on it everywhere.
“Uh oh,” she replied. “Push me closer.”
“If you tell me what to look for...”
“I could, but it's complicated,” she said, and so he obliged. As soon as she scanned the board, she realized what was happening. There must be a problem at the highest level, for everything said ‘Delayed’ or ‘Canceled.’
“Excuse me, sir?” she turned to the man next to her. “Do you know why everything is lit up?”
“Problem with air traffic control,” he replied. “Could be hours, or could be a minute.”
“Amazing,” she said, and turned to Cole. “Alright. We better find some place to settle down.”
“What's air traffic control?”
“Don't worry about it.” She could explain everything to him, but it seemed an insurmountable task at this point. She was already incredibly weary after a transatlantic flight. She c
ouldn't imagine how she might have felt had they not had a bed. Last night had been mostly amazing, but it certainly hadn't been restful. “All you need to know is that until it's fixed, no one in this entire airport is going anywhere.”
“This does not inspire confidence in humans,” he said, as he found them a bench. “It's also incredibly frustrating. I can fly.”
“You can't fly,” she pointed out. “Not unless your magic has returned.”
She lowered her voice when she realized she was getting a few stares from people around her.
He laid a hand over hers. “Even if it has, I'd want to preserve it for you. I hate that you don't feel well and I can do nothing about it.”
She gave him a soft smile.
“It's kind of you. But I'd feel better if we could just get to our destination. Airports aren't exactly designed for comfort, so perhaps the wait won't be long.”
“Is there another way?” he asked, and she shook her head.
“No. We need a plane, unless we enjoy 48 hours of boats, trains, and walking.”
“Humans are dumb,” he said, and she chuckled.
“They don't teach you much patience, do they?”
“I'm a Prince,” he reminded her. “We never had to wait for anything.”
“But you're...” her face contorted. “Are you immortal?”
“No,” he answered, softly. “My lifespan will be far longer than yours, but we can perish, and eventually, we do grow old.”
“Are you old, though?” she asked. These were all things she had wondered many times before, but never got around to asking. Now, it seemed as if they had all the time in the world.
“No,” his answer surprised her. “Not even for a human.”
She met his eyes.
“So, you can probably guess what my next question is going to be.”
“32,” he answered. “Exactly as I appear.”
“Huh,” she leaned back. “I expected you to say 292 or something. That's not bad at all.”
“It's the age of majority,” he replied. “Which is probably why my father chose this year to tell me the truth. He thought I could handle everything I knew being a lie easily when I reached majority. Turns out, it's harder the longer you believe a lie.”
The Guardian Mikhail Page 13