by Eve Langlais
He arched a brow and leaned back in clear invitation. His lap did tempt, but now wasn’t the time or place.
She sat primly across from him, tablet held high as she read something way less interesting than his dirty mind. They spent a few hours of flight thus, until finally she cracked and spoke first.
“There’s been some thefts of artifacts from museums and private collections in the last few weeks.”
“And I care about robberies in the human world because?”
“Because these thefts all seem to have one thing in common. Magic.”
That drew his attention. “How do you know that?”
She flipped her tablet to show him. “That scepter, stolen from the London Museum, belonged to a queen who practiced magic.” She swiped her finger across the screen and changed the view. “That ring and the goblet stolen here also had—”
“Magic.” He frowned. “Do we know for sure it’s the demons?”
She shrugged. “Hard to tell. The articles don’t say much other than the perpetrators were violent in their intent, didn’t bother to hide at all from the cameras, and refused to surrender when police caught up to them.” The carnage had the trademarks of a demon assault.
“So the attack on the djinn might be related to this collection of magic.”
“I’d say it’s most likely.”
“And we still don’t know why. I’ve pulled information from every known library in the world, and it hasn’t yielded much usable information.” He sighed. “Are we being foolish? Should we have found a position to reinforce as Jamaal suggested?”
She snorted. “Hide like animals? I’d rather die fighting.”
He couldn’t help but smile at her vehemence. “If only the djinn had your spirit.”
“You do. I heard what Azzam said; you fought.”
“Not very well, apparently. They still stole my people and hurt my family.”
“But you tried at least, which is more than most would do. It’s noble.”
Noble? The very idea warmed even as his failure returned to haunt him. “It accomplished nothing.”
“You’re alive.”
“Am I? There are times I wonder.”
For some reason, his words resonated with her. How many times had she thought about dying for a purpose? She, too, had lived a long time and wondered what the point was. Sometimes the loneliness of it overwhelmed.
She stood, crossed the space between them, and sat in his lap.
He couldn’t have look more surprised if he tried. “What—”
“Shhh.” She placed a finger on his lips. “We don’t want to wake Azzam.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled, and rather than reply, he kissed her.
It proved as electric as before. And she didn’t understand it. She’d kissed many men in her life. Women, too. None, not a single one, ever made her feel so alive. Real. Even better, he wanted nothing from her. Not eternal life, nor a spot in her court.
He had his own power. His own riches. And yes, while he came to her for help, he did so because of a grave danger. Because of his warning, they might have a chance.
But that wasn’t why she sat in his lap and kissed him back. She wanted Tariq. Plain and simple.
Wanted to taste his mouth and that spicy ambrosia that was uniquely his. Wanted to touch the smoothness of this tanned skin. To feel him inside of her.
Yet, once again, they were interrupted.
Something in the air changed. A subtle shift in the pressure that sent Tariq to his feet and Felicia scrambling to hers. Her nose twitched, but it was Ella, looking rumpled and pink-cheeked, emerging from the bedroom, yelling, “Jamaal, watch out!” who gave the warning.
“Jamaal!” Tariq bolted for the cockpit, yelling his brother’s name. The door remained shut in front of him, and no amount of pounding opened it. His magic fought against the force sealing it. Meanwhile, he could hear scuffling beyond it. Thumps and grunts of a fight.
“Out of the way,” Ella ordered. She held out her hand, and he could see the spirits, almost gleeful in their haste, rushing for the door and through it.
Splat. The wet explosion made more noise than expected, especially when accompanied by Jamaal yelling, “Gross. Seriously. Who the fuck explodes a human?”
Demons exploded humans, and who better to blow up than their pilot?
The door sprang open as their plane immediately began to dip, sending those standing staggering. Felicia calmly seated herself even though inside she was slightly disturbed. For one, it was daylight outside. Two, they were over the ocean, no land in sight, and three…
Three, she had no brilliant plan to deal with this, but she did know panicking wouldn’t help.
“Anyone know how to fly a plane?”
Tariq stuck his head into the cockpit and grumbled. “There are body chunks everywhere,” he announced. “They’re gumming up the electronics.”
“Then clean it.”
“I can remove the remains”—he snapped his fingers and removed the lovely smell of fresh blood—“but I’m not an engineer. I don’t know how to fix what shorted.”
“You’re a djinn. Djinn can do anything.”
“Within reason. We use magic to move stuff. To bring us items. To influence. But there are limits to what we can do. Repair?” He shrugged. “Unless we have intimate knowledge of what we’re doing, then it’s like handing a hammer to a child.”
“Can’t you snap your fingers and magic a new plane dashboard?”
“It’s not that simple. Given time, maybe I could, but we don’t have time.”
“We need to abandon ship,” Ella stated. “Women and children first.”
“Um, Ella. This isn’t a boat. We can’t just open a door and jump out,” Felicia remarked.
Zane appeared from the back, looking like a ninja wearing black from head to toe, including goggles. He tossed a package at Felicia. “You might want to put on your emergency suit.”
“I’m less worried about baking in the sun than I am crashing into the ocean. I don’t swim.” Felicia grumbled, digging through her bag for her gear.
“No one is swimming,” Tariq announced. “What is a plane but a giant carpet?”
Felicia eyed him. “You have enough magic to keep it aloft?”
“No. Which is why we’re going to float.”
More than a few pairs of eyes blinked at him, but it was Felicia who remarked, “We’ll sink.”
“Not if I protect us. I’ll plug any holes with magic and buoy us.”
“So you’re planning to what? Paddle us to shore? How many months will that take?” was her sarcastic rejoinder.
“It won’t take that long. I have a plan, but I need everyone to strap in. This might get bumpy.”
Ella plopped herself into a seat, Zane right beside her. Azzam still snored. Jamaal eschewed the seats and headed for the back. “I’m going to wash up.”
A waste of blood, Felicia personally thought. But she didn’t think offering to lick his skin clean would go over well—especially with Tariq.
He took his brother’s place in the cockpit, but she couldn’t join him. Not with the sun shining so brightly outside and streaming in. But it bothered her she couldn’t. Sitting in the cabin, the shades drawn over the windows, none of them could see the danger coming. The inevitable crash as the plane plummeted.
Perhaps it was better this way.
Better to die drowning and eaten by fish? An ignoble end to her life.
Why did she assume Tariq would fail? Because what he proposed…that was pure magic. Real magic, and she wasn’t sure she trusted it. Which might seem odd. She was, after all, the vampire queen, and yet there was nothing magical about her kind.
Vampirism was a virus that mutated the genes of those infected, changing their biological makeup and forcing them to adopt an entirely new diet. Elves? Pointy-eared humans who could craft things of beauty. Demons were big, ugly brutes. Although, apparently the ones she’d met before were but simpletons c
ompared to the true thing. Mermaids were aquatic creatures, half woman, half fish, and they didn’t grow legs.
Even Ella didn’t truly have magic. She manipulated souls to do what she needed.
But Tariq? He actually had control of forces she couldn’t see or touch or explain. It fascinated. It frightened.
Especially since she had to trust him.
The pitch of the plane grew steep, the nose dipping, and her nails dug into the soft leather armrests. Who cared if she left marks? She’d sacrifice the entire plane to live.
No one said anything as they went into a nosedive. Although Ella did hum.
Only once the melody began repeating in her head did Felicia snort. “Ground Control to Major Tom? Seriously?”
Ella turned her gray gaze on her. “Would you prefer I sing Plane Crash in C?”
“How about asking your ghostly friends for some help?”
“I did.”
“And?”
“They said not to worry.”
Which didn’t reassure. Ella had said it more than once. The dead didn’t care about the living.
The plane began to shudder, and her fingers dug deeper, ripping into the seat. She hated showing weakness. But at least she wasn’t alone. Azzam still snored, strapped to a seat, while Zane leaned back, striving for insouciance. She could see the hard edge in his gaze, the grimness of his jaw.
A noise at the back of the plane showed Jamaal rejoining them, his face wet and his hair slicked back. The blood on his skin was gone, leaving only blotches on his shirt and pants.
He slammed himself into an empty seat.
“Aren’t you going to help your brother?” she asked.
“Can’t. Broken, remember?” He held up his hands and shrugged.
Ella exclaimed, “Give me a second and I’ll fix you.”
“Ella, get your ass back in that seat,” Zane barked.
As if she’d listen. The ghosts aided her in undoing the buckle and flinging herself across to kneel in front of Jamaal.
He looked nervous, more nervous than Felicia had seen him thus far. But it was pure mischief that lit his gaze when Ella braced her hands on his thighs and he said, “A little bit higher…”
Zane growled.
Ella ignored them all, her head tilting back. Felicia concentrated on the souls swirling around her friend and the mist flowing from her mouth, anything to ignore the fact they were going down.
Jamaal’s eyes and mouth were wide as the smoky substance entered him. The stream of mist ended, and he lunged to grab Ella before she keeled over.
Only to have Zane snarl, “Hands off, magic boy,” as he reached for his wife.
And then everyone went tumbling, except for Felicia, who’d smartly strapped her seatbelt before the plane hit the water.
Twelve
The landing wasn’t as soft as he would have liked, but that was because Tariq was saving his magic for other things. Like the bubble he had to immediately encase the plane in. This vessel wasn’t an airtight submarine. It would sink if he didn’t find a way to keep the water out.
This wasn’t the first time he’d done something like this; however, a plane was a big object. Bigger than the last time he’d used this trick. As a boy he’d wanted to find Atlantis, so he’d enchanted a small boat and taken it under water since his father wouldn’t teach him how to breathe liquid.
He’d almost drowned that day, going deeper than he should have then getting trapped by a baby leviathan that decided to keep the djinn toy it found bobbing in its playroom.
A good thing Grandfather came looking.
This time, there would be no rescue. Tariq held all their lives in his hands. He couldn’t afford to make a mistake. Yet he already had by not listening to his grandfather. He’d warned them not to fly.
Then again, they hadn’t had a choice. A plane over the ocean was the fastest method of travel.
Was.
Now that they’d crashed, how would they get there in time? Felicia had pointed out the problem, and he’d lied. He had no idea how to get them to shore in time to stop the end of the world. He could conjure a fleet of outboard motors, but they wouldn’t be fast enough. No boat in existence could travel hundreds of miles in mere hours.
There was no knock, just a sudden opening of the door, quickly shut, and then Ella plopping into the seat beside him.
“Why haven’t you called him?”
“Called who?” he asked with puzzlement.
“Your friend down there.” She pointed to the waters.
“I have no fish friends,” he retorted. Unless the ones on his plate counted.
“Not a fish.” She giggled. “The sea monster. The big one you used to play with as a kid.”
He blinked. “How did you know about Levi?” Only to answer his own question. “The ghosts, of course.” After that first incident with the leviathan, he’d only stayed away a short while. He’d returned time and again to hang with the sea monster, bringing him presents. However, he’d not seen Levi in centuries. Given humanity’s encroachment and pollution, he assumed his friend was dead or hiding in the deep where it was safe.
“Aren’t you going to call him?”
“Even if he’s still alive, I don’t see how he can help us.”
“He’s not a baby sea monster anymore.”
“And I still don’t see what you think he can do to help.”
“Did you never read any stories about Poseidon and his chariot drawn by seahorses? I don’t think I’ve ever actually heard of sea horses big enough to help us, but wouldn’t a leviathan have the strength and speed? Make him your horse.”
He gaped at her.
Ella smiled. “You’re welcome.” With that, she left as rapidly as she’d come. But he paid little mind. He now knew what to do.
First, though, he required something to make a harness. He expended magic conjuring some thick marine rope, then some more fashioning it into a loop that he had to tie around the plane, all while maintaining the bubble’s integrity. It left him in a bit of a sweat.
Next, a call to his old friend.
After that first time his grandfather saved him, Tariq, being somewhat stubborn and single-minded, had returned more than once to play with Levi, but in order to ensure no one knew, he taught himself how to fashion gills so he could stay underwater. He even taught himself to web his feet and toes to help him swim. Not that he swam much. His thing as a young lad was to grab Levi around the neck, and then they raced through the warm waves. A sea monster and his boy.
He got the thrill of the ride while Levi got to show off his unique pet, making him the envy of all the other sea monsters.
However, would the leviathan remember him? It had been decades since he’d even thought of Levi.
Yet Ella seemed to think he simply had to call. Could it be that easy? While he’d fabricated the harness, twilight fell, and as if vampires had a sixth sense for it, the door opened, and Felicia entered. She sat in the seat Ella had vacated.
“What’s the plan, oh mighty djinn?”
“You probably don’t want to know.”
“That bad?”
“Would you feel more reassured if I told you Ella suggested it?”
Felicia cocked her head. “Actually, I am.”
“She told me to ask a sea monster to pull us to shore.”
The vampire queen took a moment to digest this. “And you’re hesitating because?”
“There’s a chance if I call the wrong one, you and your friends will get crushed and killed.”
She glanced at him. “You could snap your fingers and be on shore this minute, couldn’t you?”
“Usually, yes, but not in this instance. Teleportation isn’t working at the moment.”
“But you could save yourself easily. Fly another chair out of here or something.”
“Yes. However, I’m not interested in only saving myself.”
“For a djinn who isn’t supposed to care, you’re awfully concerned about others
.”
“A failing of mine.”
Her lips curved. “I’ve had that problem a time or two of late, too.”
He scrubbed his face. “Things were easier when I hung out in my bottle.”
“But boring, I’ll wager.”
He offered a rueful grin. “True. However, at this point, I could do with a little less excitement.”
“And once we win this battle, you’ll get that wish. So what are you waiting for? Get us to shore.”
“I’m waiting for a sign from the gods that this isn’t a mistake.”
She leaned over and brushed her lips over his. “How’s that for a sign?”
“Seems kind of weak.”
She laughed. “Fine. How about, if we make it to shore alive, I kiss you somewhere more interesting.” Her gaze flicked down to the bulge in his pants. It stirred his simmering hunger.
It gave him incentive. He straightened in his seat. “Now that’s what I call a bargain. Time to call a sea monster.” He closed his eyes and sent out a call. Not with words. But with waves. He projected his need into the water, sent it flying over currents, hoping Levi would hear it.
He did it for a few hours, Felicia by his side, holding his hand as he called. Offering him support even though he didn’t need or ask for it. He did appreciate it, though.
His grandfather, and even Jamaal, had joined him for a spell, but their magical reserves were low. The healing had only stopped the bleed, not replenished it.
Fatigue eventually had him stopping. If that didn’t bring Levi—or something else—then nothing would.
He leaned back wearily in his seat.
“You’re tired,” she observed.
“Depleted. Not much magic around here.” Water tended to disrupt it.
“Any way I can help?”
He cast her a glance. “You already are.” He squeezed her fingers.
The plane rocked, and Felicia squeaked.
He sensed more than saw the hump heaving out of the water. However, the question was, did he have the right monster?
“I have to go outside.”
“But…”
Before he could change his mind, he flung himself at the windshield, dissolving it long enough for his body to pass through then resealing it. Next, he formed his gills, one on each side of his neck, before diving off the nose of the plane and into the water.