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The moment the plane door closed, I felt like they'd cut off my air supply. It was immediately harder to breathe. More difficult still when every breath brought the smell of testosterone, black leather and jet fuel. A heady combination under other circumstances. The scent of filthy rich men and their minions.
In this case, a filthy rich man whose parents killed mine. Whose parents I killed in retaliation. A man who wanted everything I had, and was apparently done waiting to make a grab for it.
He leaned forward and his breath grazed my neck. I cursed myself for putting my hair up and leaving my throat exposed.
"Sit back and enjoy the ride," he said, his voice low and menacing. "The fun and games are just beginning." He brushed the back of his hand over the bruises on my cheek.
"Shouldn't you be buckled up?" I asked. "I'd hate it if we hit turbulence and you got hurt. On second thought, don't buckle up." I twisted around just far enough to give him a sweet, sarcastic smile.
He turned his hand and wound it around my neck. He squeezed, pressing his fingers into my skin.
I responded with a stare of pure ice. If he thought he'd scare me with a threat of strangulation, he'd have to think again. I wasn’t afraid of much, and certainly not of dying. It would be inconvenient, but not the fear it was for most people. I'd seen so much of it, I was desensitised by now.
He squeezed tighter, obviously annoyed at my lack of reaction, but he hadn't done all of this just to kill me in a fit of irritation. He waited until my vision started to blur, then released and pushed me away.
"Ice Bitch, I'm going to have fun with you." His smile was chilling.
"I can't wait." I sat back around, checked my seatbelt and thought up ways I was going to make him pay for this. I made a mental list I could check off later, one by one. By the time I was done, he'd wish he never took his first breath.
The engine turned over and the plane started to taxi toward the runway.
2
I didn't realiseuntil the plane lifted off that I hoped we'd go south. I knew people there, in several locations. People Jake would contact first.
My heart sank as the plane rose and headed north.
I recalled that Dagen had properties on the north coast. Hells, so did I, for that matter. Mostly rental properties with perfectly ordinary people living in them. They didn't much care who owned them, as long as they had a place to live, and the rent didn't go up too often.
Whatever, they weren't people who could help me.
"Nice view, isn't it?" Dagen asked.
Without thinking, I glanced out the window.
Fucker.
He made sure we passed right over the top of Crimson on the way. From here, it just looked like a tall building with a helipad on top. Not much different to a dozen other buildings in the area. I half expected it to explode after we flew past, but it didn't.
I knew very well that dear, old Asshole wanted to own the place. Blowing it up would be dumb, even for him. Still, I wouldn't put it past him, just to see the look on my face.
"It's okay." I squinted, but of course Jake didn't appear on the helipad with a bazooka, or even a dragon, to knock the plane out of the sky. He and Cooper were down there somewhere, worrying. I could feel it.
Or maybe I was projecting my own emotions. I was as worried about them as I was about myself. Maybe more so. Not because they couldn't take care of themselves, and each other, but because Dagen was a motherfucker who held a grudge against them both as well as me. Jake more than Cooper, but anyone involved with me was automatically Dagen’s enemy. Anyone involved with him was mine. Anyone but Hutton, until I knew for sure where he stood.
We reached cruising altitude out over the ocean and the goon beside me unbuckled his seatbelt.
I kept mine on. There was still time for the guys to send a dragon shifter after us. Maybe a phoenix. We had both on the payroll. Failing that, lighting might appear out of a perfectly clear sky and strike us.
None of that happened. Dagen's men moved around the plane, talking in low voices and giving me open glances. Some of them looked uneasy, but most looked triumphant, like outnumbering Ben and I and sticking us on a plane somehow meant they won.
The one or two who dared to catch my eye got an icy gaze in return. They all blinked first, then turned away.
That's right, bastards, I thought.I'm not beaten yet. Even after my heart stops, my legacy will fight on. And my guys.
I itched to look back and check on Ben, but forced myself to keep my eyes forward. My senses were open to the smells around me: anxiety, fear, indifference. Smug-as-fuck, that was Dagen. I didn't get any indication that anyone planned anything. Rather, I felt like everyone was waiting, anticipating whatever Asshole had planned for Ben and me. Or me, at least. I wasn't sure Ben registered on their radars. Good. I would do what I could to be sure it stayed that way.
"It won't be long now," Alistair said in my ear.
