“So, what’s the plan from here on out?” Marc asked once we were in the air, as a pair of flight attendants began the beverage service at the front of the plane. “What kind of proof are we looking for?”
I’d thought it over during my long walk from the thunderbirds’ nest, but had yet to hit upon a stroke of brilliance. Or even sufficiency. “Um…I was thinking we could find the feathers Brett was going to bring.”
“Why would Malone keep them?”
“I’m kind of hoping he never found them. Brett said he had them hidden, and right now Kaci’s life is riding on the hope that Brett died before he could retrieve them.”
As Marc thought, his expression cycled through doubt, skepticism and raw fear. For Kaci, most likely. I’d never seen him afraid for himself, because Marc was truly, completely selfless. Except where our relationship was concerned.
Finally he faced me, leaning with his temple against the back of his seat. “Do you have any idea where he hid them?”
“I was hoping Jace might have a little insight to share with us.”
“How ’bout it, Hammond?” Marc kicked the back of Jace’s chair. Jace dropped his seat back as far as it would go, wedging it against Marc’s knees. “Damn it!” Marc shoved Jace’s headrest, but Jace only grinned at me through the now-wide crack between his seat and the vacant one next to him.
“I don’t know. Under his mattress? That’s where he used to hide stuff he didn’t want Mom to find. If you want anything more creative than that, I’ll have to think about it. After my nap.” With that, he winked at me and leaned against the window, out of sight, without raising his seat.
“What the hell is his problem?” Marc shoved Jace’s chair one more time, then twisted to face me more fully, obviously uncomfortable in his newly tight quarters. “I swear, if he wasn’t a damn good fighter, I’d send him home and ask for Vic instead.”
Several minutes later, after the flight attendant had made another round, I leaned in to Marc.
“You think Jace fights better than Vic?” I hesitated to ask, because Jace wasn’t sleeping yet. I could tell by the rhythm of his breathing. But my curiosity got the better of me.
Marc shrugged. “He put up a pretty good effort yesterday.”
“You fought Jace yesterday?” Why had neither of them told me?
“We were just sparring. We had to do something while we waited to hear from you and Kaci, and we both had energy to burn. It was either spar or fight over the motel television’s remote.”
I hesitated, glancing through the crack between the seats again at what little I could see of Jace. He’d gone completely still. Listening. “And he was good?”
Marc nodded. “Put me flat on the ground twice. He’s different since Ethan died. He takes everything more seriously. He’s out for Malone’s blood, and I’d bet my canines he’ll get it.”
I nodded thoughtfully, and Jace relaxed. No doubt Marc was right on all counts—he was attributing the obvious changes to Ethan’s death and Malone’s power play. So far, he was only missing one piece of the puzzle that Jace had become: me.
“So, why did my dad send Jace instead of Vic?” Vic and Marc had been partners for years, and even if Marc didn’t know the details, he knew that Jace’s feelings for me went beyond friendship.
“Because Kaci responds best to him. I think she has a crush on him.”
“Yeah.” I smiled a little at that, and couldn’t help missing—just for a moment—the days when a girl’s innocent crush was as complicated as my own personal life ever got. “But she’s not really thinking along those lines right now. Because of Ethan.” And because of everything else that had gone wrong.
By then, Jace’s breathing had evened out, and his hand had gone slack on his own thigh. Finally I could relax with Marc, confident we weren’t being overheard. Not by Jace, anyway.
I leaned on Marc’s shoulder, and he curled his fingers around mine where they stuck out from my cast. He stared at my left hand, and I knew he was picturing his ring there. But I’d never actually worn it on my finger. It was on a silver chain in an envelope in the top drawer of my dresser.
“I was half-afraid they’d taken you both straight to Malone,” Marc whispered, leaning his head against mine. “I thought we’d have to execute a full-scale rescue.”
“You think it’d be that easy?”
Marc thought as the flight attendants pushed the cart closer. The metallic rattle and the hiss of soda being opened almost drowned out his words. “I think taking you would be the biggest mistake he’s ever made. Possibly his first real tactical error.”
I pulled away and twisted to meet his heated gaze. “Why is that?”
“Because nothing could make us fight harder than getting you and Kaci away from him. Me. Your dad. Hell, even Jace. Taking you would have been the last mistake Malone ever made.”
The instant the plane landed, we became guilty of trespassing. In the south-central Pride, such an offense was punishable by immediate capture and expulsion, for a first offense. Unfortunately, since trespassing is not a capital crime, the exact consequences were left up to each individual Alpha. And something told me Malone wouldn’t be quite as forgiving as my father.
In fact, I had no doubt he’d kill Jace and Marc on sight and trump up a charge later—unless either his wife or daughter was there to object. And something told me Malone wouldn’t mind if it took a bit of subduing to get me under control, so long as no permanent damage was done. Because he had plans for me—or at least for my ring finger and my uterus.
I’d thought it over during my long walk from the thunderbirds’ nest, but had yet to hit upon a stroke of brilliance. Or even sufficiency. “Um…I was thinking we could find the feathers Brett was going to bring.”
“Why would Malone keep them?”
“I’m kind of hoping he never found them. Brett said he had them hidden, and right now Kaci’s life is riding on the hope that Brett died before he could retrieve them.”
As Marc thought, his expression cycled through doubt, skepticism and raw fear. For Kaci, most likely. I’d never seen him afraid for himself, because Marc was truly, completely selfless. Except where our relationship was concerned.
Finally he faced me, leaning with his temple against the back of his seat. “Do you have any idea where he hid them?”
“I was hoping Jace might have a little insight to share with us.”
“How ’bout it, Hammond?” Marc kicked the back of Jace’s chair. Jace dropped his seat back as far as it would go, wedging it against Marc’s knees. “Damn it!” Marc shoved Jace’s headrest, but Jace only grinned at me through the now-wide crack between his seat and the vacant one next to him.
“I don’t know. Under his mattress? That’s where he used to hide stuff he didn’t want Mom to find. If you want anything more creative than that, I’ll have to think about it. After my nap.” With that, he winked at me and leaned against the window, out of sight, without raising his seat.
“What the hell is his problem?” Marc shoved Jace’s chair one more time, then twisted to face me more fully, obviously uncomfortable in his newly tight quarters. “I swear, if he wasn’t a damn good fighter, I’d send him home and ask for Vic instead.”
Several minutes later, after the flight attendant had made another round, I leaned in to Marc.
“You think Jace fights better than Vic?” I hesitated to ask, because Jace wasn’t sleeping yet. I could tell by the rhythm of his breathing. But my curiosity got the better of me.
Marc shrugged. “He put up a pretty good effort yesterday.”
“You fought Jace yesterday?” Why had neither of them told me?
“We were just sparring. We had to do something while we waited to hear from you and Kaci, and we both had energy to burn. It was either spar or fight over the motel television’s remote.”
I hesitated, glancing through the crack between the seats again at what little I could see of Jace. He’d gone completely still. Listening. “And he was good?”
Marc nodded. “Put me flat on the ground twice. He’s different since Ethan died. He takes everything more seriously. He’s out for Malone’s blood, and I’d bet my canines he’ll get it.”
I nodded thoughtfully, and Jace relaxed. No doubt Marc was right on all counts—he was attributing the obvious changes to Ethan’s death and Malone’s power play. So far, he was only missing one piece of the puzzle that Jace had become: me.
“So, why did my dad send Jace instead of Vic?” Vic and Marc had been partners for years, and even if Marc didn’t know the details, he knew that Jace’s feelings for me went beyond friendship.
“Because Kaci responds best to him. I think she has a crush on him.”
“Yeah.” I smiled a little at that, and couldn’t help missing—just for a moment—the days when a girl’s innocent crush was as complicated as my own personal life ever got. “But she’s not really thinking along those lines right now. Because of Ethan.” And because of everything else that had gone wrong.
By then, Jace’s breathing had evened out, and his hand had gone slack on his own thigh. Finally I could relax with Marc, confident we weren’t being overheard. Not by Jace, anyway.
I leaned on Marc’s shoulder, and he curled his fingers around mine where they stuck out from my cast. He stared at my left hand, and I knew he was picturing his ring there. But I’d never actually worn it on my finger. It was on a silver chain in an envelope in the top drawer of my dresser.
“I was half-afraid they’d taken you both straight to Malone,” Marc whispered, leaning his head against mine. “I thought we’d have to execute a full-scale rescue.”
“You think it’d be that easy?”
Marc thought as the flight attendants pushed the cart closer. The metallic rattle and the hiss of soda being opened almost drowned out his words. “I think taking you would be the biggest mistake he’s ever made. Possibly his first real tactical error.”
I pulled away and twisted to meet his heated gaze. “Why is that?”
“Because nothing could make us fight harder than getting you and Kaci away from him. Me. Your dad. Hell, even Jace. Taking you would have been the last mistake Malone ever made.”
The instant the plane landed, we became guilty of trespassing. In the south-central Pride, such an offense was punishable by immediate capture and expulsion, for a first offense. Unfortunately, since trespassing is not a capital crime, the exact consequences were left up to each individual Alpha. And something told me Malone wouldn’t be quite as forgiving as my father.
In fact, I had no doubt he’d kill Jace and Marc on sight and trump up a charge later—unless either his wife or daughter was there to object. And something told me Malone wouldn’t mind if it took a bit of subduing to get me under control, so long as no permanent damage was done. Because he had plans for me—or at least for my ring finger and my uterus.
