by C. T. Adams
“The look on your face,” he whispered the words softly. “There aren’t words to say how I feel when you look at me like that.”
“I love you, Rick.”
“Yeah, me too.”
They both had their hands full of baggage, so they really couldn’t do anything more, and there were no other words that needed saying. So the two of them went into the airport to face the lines, the bother, and the flight to Atlanta.
THE RECYCLED AIR humming through the airplane vents was filled with the ammonia scent of panic. Rick knew not all of it was Josette’s, although he supposed she accounted for a good portion. She held onto the armrests with a death grip and very determinedly kept her eyes averted from the windows, with their view of floating clouds and the ground oh so very far below. He heard the crunch of plastic cracking and glanced over. She was damaging the armrests. Slowly, deliberately she forced each individual finger to let loose of the plastic.
“I’m sorry.” Rick shifted in his seat so he was facing her once he had her hand firmly resting in her lap. His expression was serious. “I knew you didn’t like flying, but I didn’t think it would be this bad.”
She gave him a look, and he chuckled. “Here, hold my hand.”
She shook her head as she once again closed her eyes. She was quite possibly too terrified to move. But then she spoke. “I’ll break it.”
“It’ll help you feel better.” He intentionally changed his voice so that it hinted at a hidden meaning behind the words. “The right touch can be wonderfully reassuring.”
Her eyes flew open as he began to push some very intoxicating emotions her way. He was an empath, after all. He could project emotions. He was surprised he hadn’t thought of it earlier. Of course, normally he wasn’t dealing with a full-blown phobia. But he needed skin contact to take the edge off of this terror.
SHE HELD OUT her hand, trying as hard as she could to keep it from shaking. The minute his skin touched hers she felt the warmth of magic flowing over her, wrapping around her like a warm fluffy blanket. Instead of panic she smelled bread baking. The knotted muscles in her back and shoulders began to unclench, and she felt herself sinking back into the seat. Her frantic heartbeat slowed and steadied until it matched his.
“Better?” He brought her hand up to his lips and kissed her knuckles.
“Much.”
“Good. I don’t like seeing you so miserable.”
She met his gaze easily now. So long as she kept her eyes away from the window and concentrated on the man next to her she would be okay, maybe…she hoped. Taking a slow, deep breath she made herself look him directly and felt the warmth and reassurance pour over her again.
“Thank you.”
“Does that make up for making fun of you earlier?” He moved until he could whisper directly in her ear, his warm breath tickling the sensitive hairs there.
She thought about it for a minute. “If you can manage this all the way to Daytona, I’ll forgive you anything you’ve ever done wrong.”
“What a deal.” His smile was practically heart-stopping, and now that she could sense things beyond her own panic she noticed that the stewardess and more than one of the female passengers were reeking with lust and glaring daggers at her.
“You’re making quite an impression.” She spoke softly, so that only he would hear.
“There’s only one woman on this plane whose opinion matters to me, and she’s sitting right next to me.”
It was the perfect thing to say. The type of line she’d expect to hear from a cad—what was the term now? Ah yes, a player. He certainly looked like a player in that outfit, and while he’d been a little selfconscious at first, he seemed to have settled into it comfortably.
“Sit back and try to relax,” he suggested. “We’ve got about another half hour before we arrive.”
A half hour sounded like forever, but she tried to relax, to not fight the emotions he was pouring into her. She had just refused the flight attendant’s offer of a drink when her perceptions shifted.
The sign above the doorway read Atlanta-Hartsfield International Airport. People were moving purposefully past with their luggage in tow, most looking annoyed and frustrated. Her host stood between the doors to the restroom and the shoeshine stand. “What the hell is taking her so long?” He turned his arm to pull back the sleeve of his suit jacket, showing a starched white shirt cuff and elegant Rolex. 2:14 P.M. She’d been in there more than ten minutes already. How long did it take to go to the toilet and “freshen up” for Christ’s sake—particularly when she knew he was out here waiting?
He was just about to walk over there and call through the doorway when she emerged. There was no mistaking her—not many statuesque brunettes were strolling around the airport in a tomato red silk dress and three-inch heels. But rather than come over to meet him at the agreed spot she started walking purposefully in the opposite direction, the heels of her shoes clicking sharply against the tiled floor.
“Janice! Janice!” What in the hell? He was gathering up their bags to go after her when he saw something move. There was a flash of agony in his ankle. He tried to cry out, but couldn’t seem to get any sound past the frantic pounding of his heart. He fell to the floor, but he didn’t feel the impact. His senses were dimming, but he heard a woman’s shrieks coming from the bathroom and thought he saw a snake slither into hiding behind the shoeshine stand.
“Josette…honey?” She could hear Rick’s voice, as though from a distance. He whispered to the flight attendant that his companion was prone to petit mal seizures, that it was nothing to worry about, she’d be all right in a few minutes.
“Are you sure?”
“I—” Josette blinked her eyes as dramatically as she could. “Oh! I had another one didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did.” Rick looked relieved that she’d heard, understood, and was back in the present. “But it’s okay, sweetheart. Are you all right?”
“I…I think so. But I do think I’ll have that drink. Do you have any orange juice?”
The attendant, who smelled strangely of fresh white glue, poured the beverage. As she passed the clear plastic cup over to Josette she asked, “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“I’ll be fine. Thank you. This is so embarrassing.” Josette didn’t have to force herself to blush. People all over the cabin were staring. It was humiliating. Thank God Rick had managed to come up with a reasonable excuse for her odd behavior.
The pilot announced they were ready to land not long after. The attendant had other things to deal with, so she scurried off, leaving Josette and Rick to fend for themselves.
“What did you see?” His words were a mere breath in her ear.
“Snakes, at the airport,” she answered. “I think it all happens a few minutes from now, but I’m not sure. I didn’t see anything that showed the date.
Rick had stopped in mid-step, his eyes wide. “You’re seeing the future again…and you’re in it?”
She smiled and nodded. “I wasn’t sure before, so I didn’t want to say anything, but Rick! Think of what that could mean!”
RICK WOULD HAVE been ecstatic if it weren’t for one little problem. Snakes. “It’s wonderful, ma chère. But how in the hell did they track us here already?” He kept his voice too low for human ears, keeping his face hidden while fumbling with the seatbelt at his waist.
“Who knows? Maybe they’ve got people at every hub with flights to Daytona. We can’t be certain that they didn’t get the information out of Bruce before they—”
He nodded grimly. “Maybe. But that’s a lot of manpower.”
“Somebody wants me dead very badly.”
“Well they’re just going to have to live with the disappointment.”
Funny thing, thinking of the snakes waiting in the terminal seemed to make Josie a lot less nervous about staying airborne.
It was nearly two o’clock when the plane touched ground. It took another five or so minutes for everyone to gather up their
luggage and disembark. Rick and Josette hurried down the tunnel connecting the plane to Concourse A. They’d come in at gate A-30. Their flight to Daytona was leaving at 4:07 from gate A-15. Unfortunately that information was posted on every one of the departure screens for anyone and everyone to read.
“Describe it to me in detail—everything you can remember.” Rick pulled her aside to stand by one of the telephone kiosks in the main corridor.
She closed her eyes, apparently trying to shut out the noise and distractions of the busy terminal. Step-by-step she went through every second of the vision, pulling every detail she could from the images. There wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing.
“All right. We’re going to see if we can find one of those maps of the building they sometimes have. We’ll look for all of the places where a shoeshine stand is next to the bathrooms. In the meantime, keep your eyes and your nose open and stay close.”
They were standing in line at a Delta information desk when Josette grabbed his arm. “Psst! That’s her! Look, there’s the shoeshine stand, and the bathroom. What time is it?”
“Two-ten.”
“Shit!” Her eyes moved frantically back and forth several times, and then she smiled grimly. “I have an idea. It’s crazy, but I think it might work.”
Rick opened his mouth to protest, but Josette pulled away from him. She walked with faked casualness in the direction of the shoeshine stand. When she was less than six feet away she started to shriek.
“Oh my God! It’s a snake! Richard, I saw a snake crawl under that stand! Oh my God!”
She dropped her bags and threw herself into his arms. He could feel her put every ounce of fear she had for flying into portraying a full-blown case of ophidiophobia. All the while she screamed, cried, and generally raised the kind of commotion that was guaranteed to bring security, the police, and more unwanted attention than you could shake a stick at.
The man in the navy suit who’d been standing there waiting stared at Josette as though she were a madwoman, but grabbed his bags and started putting his distance between himself and the shoeshine stand.
Drawn by the commotion, the statuesque brunette in her red dress hurried out of the bathroom to join the man. “Clifford, what’s going on?”
“This woman swears she saw a snake crawl under the shoeshine stand.”
“Oh my God. I hate snakes. Get me out of here!”
“Fine. As you like.” From the corner of his eye Rick saw the two of them leaving. There was no point in stopping them, and Josette’s performance apparently wasn’t nearly over.
“Ma’am.” A uniformed security officer came on the scene. He came up to her slowly, and worked hard to be polite and reassuring, while at the same time trying to minimize the commotion. He shouldn’t have bothered. A crowd had gathered, all staring avidly at the raised wooden shoeshine platform with its black leather seats. “You need to calm down. There’s no reason to think—”
She turned her panic into anger with the flick of an expression. “Excuse me? Are you calling me a liar? I know what I saw. There’s a snake under there! You need to get animal control out here. Who knows what kind it is. It could be poisonous!”
“I’m sure it’s not, ma’am. Now if you’ll just come with me.”
Rick answered for her, drawing a sharp glance from her. “Of course, officer.” They gathered up their bags, but before either of them could take a step a teenage boy with more curiosity than sense kicked the platform with a booted foot. As it scooted away from the wall, there were gasps and screams from the bystanders.
“There is a snake in there. Damn, that’s a big one. Would you look at that!” The boy seemed fascinated, he kept trying to get a better look at the squirming, hissing reptile he’d revealed.
Josette whimpered in mock fear, leaning into Rick’s body. “Oh my God—he’ll get bitten!”
Damned if it hadn’t worked. At least to keep the humans out of the way. “It’s all right, baby. Don’t worry.” Rick’s arm tightened around her waist. The two of them started backing away, moving into the bulk of the crowd.
“Everybody move back!” The cop ordered. “Move away!” Now that an actual snake had been sighted the officer had stopped treating Josette like a crazy nuisance. Grabbing the walkie-talkie attached to his uniform shirt he called for backup and requested that animal control be summoned to the scene. Security people began to converge on the stand, keeping the snake from bolting after them.
Rick was only half-listening. Most of his attention was on the crowd. Her scheme might have trapped one snake, but he hadn’t been working alone. Somewhere in the airport was a shapeshifter capable of changing his or her appearance to look like anybody. He was betting that the same person who’d impersonated Josette to kill Bruce was here now. He doubted the man would abort the mission just because his partner was captured. Far more likely that he’d try to finish the job, and then eliminate the partner. Lucas would want to do a thorough interrogation of the snake that was about to be in custody. He just hoped he’d get to.
She nearly read his mind with her next whispered statement. “We need to call Raphael, have him get in touch with Lucas. He’s going to want to question that snake.”
“Fine. Call. I’m more worried about the one that got away.” Rick was taking deep breaths through his nose, searching for the unmistakable scent of a snake shifter. There were things he wanted to say about this reckless tactic, but he held his tongue.
JOSETTE REACHED INTO her handbag and pulled out the cell phone. A quick press of a button and the call went through. She listened to the line ringing as she watched Rick turn in a slow circle, his nostrils flaring as he sought his prey.
“Ramirez.” Raphael sounded dead tired and worried.
“It’s Josette, we have a situation.”
“Oh for the love of God! Now what?” She could almost imagine him throwing his hands in the air, as he used to when he lived with Amber—and usually when her name was invoked in the conversation. She flinched at his tone. It wasn’t that she blamed him, but it did hurt her to hear such bitterness directed her way.
“Well? What’s gone wrong now?”
Looking around she saw several people from the earlier crowd passing by. They seemed to recognize her. Worse, they were eavesdropping. She needed to be very, very careful and choose her words wisely.
“There was a welcoming committee waiting for us in Atlanta. Oh, and the most incredible thing happened! They found this huge snake in the building. Animal control is capturing it now. I bet it will make the national news. You should have Lucas watch. You know how interested he is in those kinds of things.”
Raphael started swearing loudly enough that she had to hold the phone away from her ear. When the volume decreased enough for her not to fear going deaf she put the receiver back in position.
“I’ll tell Lucas,” He growled low in his throat. “You said a welcoming committee. I take it there was more than one?”
“Yes. We’re working on that. It’s a little tricky.”
She could actually hear his fingers drumming. “Tricky. Yeah, I can see where it would be.” He took a deep breath, letting it out in a sigh. “Just be careful, and for God’s sake, don’t miss your flight. We need both of you in Daytona.”
“I do know that.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I’m just tired.”
“Did you get any sleep at all last night?”
“Sleep? What is this ‘sleep’ you speak of?” He was joking, but the weariness in his voice wasn’t funny.
“Raphael—”
He chuckled tiredly. “You sound just like Cat when you say my name like that. I’ll tell you what I told her. I’ll sleep when I hear that you and Rick have landed safely in Daytona. Until then, I’m on duty. And check back in thirty minutes from now. Lucas is going to want a status report.”
“Right. I’ll do that—Raphael.” She blurted out his name before he could hang up.
“What?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to drag you into the middle of this.”
“It’s all right. I know that none of this is your fault.”
RICK FOUGHT THE urge to throttle her. At the moment he almost agreed with Antoine. She was insane. Once again, there had been no “plan” to what she’d done. She couldn’t possibly have planned to draw the attention of the enemy, the local police—in fact, everyone in the entire fucking airport. Yes, it had worked. They’d gotten away, but that was more by luck than design. Relying on luck would get them both killed.
She was a loaded gun, always half-cocked, ready to use the weather, the police, anything handy. He couldn’t work like that. How in the hell had she managed to stay alive all these years? He felt as if he was partnered with Riggs from the Lethal Weapon movies. He’d enjoyed the films immensely, even as he thought them ridiculously unrealistic. But he had never, ever, sympathized more with the Danny Glover role than he did right now.
He looked away from her, forcing himself to calm down. His rage and frustration weren’t just his. There were too many panicked people around him, and he was amplifying those emotions and was starting to bleed them out onto the other travelers. He could hear arguments breaking out as people approached, intensifying as they drew near, only to fizzle out when the group was a few feet past him. Worse, people were watching him, their eyes nervously flicking away as soon as they thought he might notice. It was too close to the moon for this sort of aggravation. The anger and fear were bringing out the beast in him, and the humans were beginning to act like prey. It was a recipe for absolute disaster if he didn’t get control of himself right now. Just another reason why he hated crowds.
“Have you caught his scent?” She moved until she stood just in front of him. He loved her, but at this precise moment he didn’t like her much.
He blew out a slow breath and struggled not to yell. “A hint. What did Raphael say?”
“Mostly he swore.” She admitted. “But when he finished that he said he’d let Lucas know so they can do the interrogation. I’m supposed to check back in a half hour so he knows there haven’t been any more disasters.”
