by Nina Croft
“Still on the move,” the colonel replied. “I thought it safer. I’m trying to get us a flight out of here, but it’s taking some time.”
She turned to Ethan. “Time to find out if the Conclave can actually be of some use,” she said. “Can you organize us a plane out of here?”
Of course he could. But did he want to leave London right now? His father was dead, and the Conclave would be in disarray, probably believing that the attack had been some sort of attempt to take them all out. He didn’t believe that—that the Conclave had been the targets. They were just in the wrong place. But before he could face them, he needed to get his strength back. If he showed any sign of weakness, they’d rip him apart. So maybe getting away for a while was not an entirely bad idea. All the same, he needed someone around, someone whom he could trust to monitor the situation.
“Do you know what happened to my man, Fergus?”
The colonel answered. “He’s still with Jake and the others. Apparently, Kaitlin took a liking to him.”
“Can I talk to him?”
The colonel shrugged, looked to Sadie, and she nodded. He got a cell phone out of his pocket and pressed speed dial. “Jake, is Baker still with you?” He listened for a moment. “Give him the phone.”
He handed his phone to Ethan. “Fergus?”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine—took a bullet in the shoulder, but I’m good. I’m going to lay low for a while—but I’d like you to go back, and find out what’s happening.”
Sadie nudged him on the arm. “Can you ask him to get Max and look after him?”
“And Sadie says can you look after Max?”
“What am I? A goddamn babysitter?”
“Thanks, Fergus,” Sadie shouted loud enough for Fergus to hear.
“Ethan, are you sure you can trust these people?”
No, he wasn’t sure of anything right now. Except maybe, that he trusted Sadie. And he had no clue why. But he did. He glanced up and caught her gaze. She gave a small nod. Would he ever get used to her being in his head? But the strange thing was, he didn’t mind. Let her see.
“As much as I trust anyone.”
“Which is not at all,” Fergus said.
“I trust you. Look, I’m going to set up a plane, and get out of the country for a while. Meet me at Stanstead, and we’ll go over what you should do. Put some safeguards in place. Okay?”
Fergus sighed. “Okay, boss.”
Ethan handed the phone back to the colonel. “Tell your people, Stanstead airport.”
“When?”
“As soon as we can get there. An hour and a half?”
The colonel finished the call, but didn’t look happy.
“Don’t take it personally,” Sadie said. “He’s a miserable bastard—he never looks happy.”
He was starting to feel a little light-headed. He held his hand out for the phone again and the colonel gave it to him. He considered the assets and made a couple of calls, pausing at one point to ask Sadie, “Anywhere in particular?”
She looked at the colonel. “Make it New York—I presume we can change it once we’re in the air.”
“No problem.” When it was done, he leaned back against the sofa and closed his eyes. He was really starting to feel a little peculiar and was only vaguely aware of the others talking.
“We can’t take him with us,” the colonel said. “He’s Conclave. We’re supposed to be eliminating them, not cozying up to them. What is it with the two of you, anyway?”
“Mind your goddamn business. And don’t forget he’s not the only fucking Conclave here. He’s just a little higher up the food chain. Maybe I should shoot you both. Or maybe I’ll leave you and let Kaitlin do it—that’s going to be fun.”
“We can’t trust him.”
“I don’t trust you. At least he’s of some use. What are we supposed to do—say he can’t go on his own plane? Look it’s not negotiable. He’s going. Or none of us are. We’ll wait for you to sort something out.” She stood, arms crossed, foot tapping on the floor. “Well?”
“We go. But—”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake, drop it.” She busied herself changing his bag of blood for a new one, then came down beside him and patted his leg.
“Are you okay?”
“Just a little woozy. Those painkillers must have been really strong. At least the pain has gone.”
“Are you okay to travel?”
“As long as I don’t have to drive.”
“No, you won’t have to drive.”
She went still. Even through the fog clouding his mind, he could tell something was wrong. “What is it?”
“Rose. She thinks something’s not right.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “Shit.”
“What is it?” Christa asked.
“Before the attack at the party…there was something strange. I don’t know how to explain it, but it felt like the buildup before a storm. I can feel it now, on the edge of my consciousness. Crap, let me think.” She turned to him. “We don’t want you passing out. Grab your reflector device, it’s in your pants pocket.” He reached inside, pulled out the device, and she took it from him and hooked it behind his ear, then turned to the colonel, one eyebrow raised. He pulled a matching device out of his inside pocket and settled it in place.
“Never go anywhere without one, huh?”
“I don’t have one,” Christa said.
“Well, if worse comes to worse, we can carry you. I’m going to tell Rose to take Dave and get out of here. They can go on his bike and meet us at the airport.” She got up and went to the cooler. Finding another bag of blood, she attached it to the IV for later. “Let’s go.”
He pushed himself up, swayed a little, but then stabilized. Sadie led the way out back to the van. He followed with Christa beside him, carrying the IV stand. Sadie stopped halfway across the garage space. “Oh my God, I almost forgot Josie. Jesus. How the fuck could I forget? Get in the van. Colonel, you drive. Christa in the back with Ethan. I’ll be right there.”
Ethan climbed in. He took one of the seats, where he could watch for her coming back—he didn’t like her out of his sight.
“You care about her, don’t you?” Christa said from beside him. She was propping him up, stopping him from falling off the seat. He actually felt very peculiar.
“Are you another mind reader?” he asked.
“No, but you’re pretty transparent right now.”
“Don’t tell her.”
“Don’t you think she already knows?”
He shrugged. “She knows everything. I’m the one who doesn’t have a clue.”
Sadie came out the door, leading her sister, who appeared in a daze. She took her to the front and almost lifted her into the passenger seat.
“What the hell…?” the colonel muttered.
“Later,” Sadie snapped. “Let’s go. Now.”
They were already moving as she jumped in the back, slamming the doors behind her, then taking the seat opposite him and gazing out of the window, gnawing on her lower lip. They drove out through the double doors and onto the street. It was still dark, around two in the morning he was guessing, and the streets were empty.
“They’re getting closer. I can feel it in my head…building. Faster.”
“We don’t want to get stopped by the police.”
“Give me a phone,” Ethan said.
Sadie glanced at him, gave a nod, and then handed him a phone. He rang a contact on the force and gave them their location and direction. “We want a marked squad car to escort us, but not to stop us. If there’s anyone following, then they need to be apprehended. How long?”
He put the phone down and stared out of the back window. In the distance, he could see headlights, coming fast. Then a police car emerged from a side road off to the left, fell into place behind them. And they speeded up.
But still the lights got closer.
Sadie rubbed at her head. They were on a long straight secti
on of road now. And he could see the black car catching up, the police car between them. As they got closer, he could make out the figures in the front seat. The car was built for more speed than the van—they couldn’t outrun it. Then the police car swerved, skidded to a halt in the middle of the road blocking both lanes, and the car behind had no choice but to stop. As they sped away, he watched through the window. The police officers got out and made their way to the car. Halfway there, they crumpled to the ground, and beside him, Christa gave a cry and slid from the seat.
“What’s happening?” the colonel asked.
“Nothing,” Sadie said. “Just drive. Fast.” She crouched down and checked Christa’s pulse. “Unconscious.” She straightened her so she lay stretched out. “She’ll be fine.”
They’d rounded a bend now and were out of sight. The colonel took a left turn then a right, got onto the motorway, and they were pushing the van to a hundred through the darkness.
Sadie looked up at him, and gave a weak smile. “My head feels better. I think we’ve lost them.”
A wave of weakness washed over him. “Can I go to sleep now?”
“Yeah, I’ll keep you safe.”
When he woke again, they were being waved through airport security, and he was in a wheelchair.
“Did I miss something?” he asked.
“Thank God, you’re awake. I couldn’t wake you. I had to call that doctor. She told me it was common with blood loss and painkillers. Then she asked why you weren’t in bed.”
“Did we lose them?”
“We think so. No sign anyway.”
“And the others?”
“Waiting at the plane.”
He did a quick inventory and found he actually felt quite well. The IV was gone so he’d presumably absorbed all the blood. His head had cleared, but his shoulder ached fiercely. He decided to wait until he was somewhere—relatively—safe to take another painkiller.
They were on the runway now and heading toward a plane standing on the tarmac, the engines already running. A small group stood at the bottom of the steps. He recognized Dave and Rose. She was hugging a tall man with black hair and a beard. Jake was there and two other men he didn’t recognize, plus a girl with long black hair halfway down her back. She looked young, still lanky as though she hadn’t eaten enough for a while. Kaitlin, at a guess. Sadie saw her and left him at a run, hugging the other girl, then the two men, then the one Rose had been hugging.
He heard a sob from his side. It had come from Sadie’s sister, still in her dress, still looking lost and vaguely not quite there.
Then Fergus appeared at the top of the stairs. He caught sight of Ethan and hurried down. His friend was a mess. Someone had broken his nose and one eye was nearly swollen shut. If Travis wasn’t dead, Ethan would have killed him for that.
“How are you?” Fergus asked.
“Better than you, from the looks of things.”
“I’m not the one in the wheelchair.”
Ethan pushed himself to his feet, and found he was quite steady. “I’ll do. So what’s happening?”
“I had a word with the pilot. They’ve logged a course for New York, but he knows that’s likely to change. Do you know where?”
“No clue. I presume they’ll decide once we’re on the move.”
“And you trust these people? I think you should stay.”
“If they were going to kill me, they’d have done it by now.”
Though he knew that wasn’t strictly true. Sadie had been protecting him. Would she be able to continue, wherever they were going? But he still needed to talk to her about his mother. And he wanted to know the situation before he went back. And okay, he was curious—something he hadn’t been in a long time. And finally, he wanted…needed to stay close to Sadie. She was in danger, and he didn’t trust anyone else to keep her safe.
As though she picked up his thoughts, she glanced over at him. Then she spoke quickly to the girl at her side and sauntered over. “Everything good?”
“Just briefing Fergus.”
She raised an eyebrow. “And what’s Fergus’s brief?”
“Go back, take my place—he has my proxy—and find out what the fuck is happening.”
“Will he warn them about us?”
He’d known they still meant to come after the Conclave, and wasn’t even sure that didn’t include him. He’d worry about that later. It seemed they had bigger problems right now. “No. Not yet.”
“You’ll be in touch?” Fergus sounded unhappy.
He glanced at Sadie, and she shrugged.
“I’ll try.”
All his life, except that brief stint in the army, he’d been under the control of the Conclave. Now he was walking away, and a sense of lightness filled him. He didn’t know whether he would walk back again. Had no clue of the future, at this point. He liked the feeling.
He’d always felt part of something bigger. Now it was just him. And maybe Sadie.
“Let’s go,” he said.
And he headed toward the plane and God knows where.
Chapter Twenty
This was by far the swankiest private luxury jet Sadie had ever encountered. Part of it was sectioned off into rows of seats, which they’d strapped themselves into for takeoff. But the rest was unlike any plane she had ever been on, though those tended to be pretty rough-and-ready military flights the colonel organized.
As well as the rows of chairs for takeoff and landing, there was an office and a huge seating area and a dining room. There were also two bedrooms. As soon as the plane had leveled off, she settled Ethan in one. He didn’t want to take the painkillers, but he was clearly suffering, and she’d promised to wake him if anything happened.
But really, they were at thirty thousand feet. What could happen? No one was going to trace them here. The Conclave probably had the connections to blow them out of the sky, but Ethan had assured her that no one else in the Conclave would know about this trip.
“I trust you,” he’d said, and she knew that didn’t come lightly. It sort of made her all warm and fuzzy.
He dropped into a light sleep almost immediately, and she perched on the edge of the big double bed. She couldn’t resist tracing the familiar lines of his face, leaning over and kissing him lightly on the lips. When she glanced up, Jake was standing in the open doorway. He didn’t say anything, just turned around and walked away. But he wasn’t happy.
She went to see Josie next.
She found her sister still strapped into her seat. No one seemed to know what to say to her. How to approach her. Sadie unfastened the seat belt, took her hand, and led her into the second bedroom. She unzipped the dress, tugged it free, and her sister slipped beneath the sheets and lay staring up at the ceiling.
With a shrug, Sadie took out Ethan’s painkillers, shook a couple onto her palm, and handed them to Josie with a glass of water. “They’ll help you sleep.”
Josie didn’t question them, but just put them in her mouth and swallowed. The action almost made Sadie cry.
She left her sister sleeping and went back to the main room, and dropped into one of the leather sofas in the seating area. Slowly, the others joined her. Rose and Dave, Jake and Christa, the colonel, Connor, Dex and Stefan, and finally Kaitlin. They all seemed a little shell-shocked. For long minutes, silence filled the cabin.
Then her stomach rumbled.
She searched her chair, found the little button, and pressed it. A few seconds later the door opposite opened, and a stewardess appeared.
“Is there any food?” Sadie asked.
“I’ll bring you the menus.”
“Don’t bother. Bring a selection of everything. And some scotch. And beers and wine.” She shrugged. “Whatever you have.”
The stewardess looked slightly alarmed. “We have everything.”
“Then use your imagination.”
Everyone was staring at Sadie in a how-can-you-think-about-food-at-a-time-like-this way. “Hey, I’m hungry.”
> “Me, too,” Kaitlin said.
“We’re all sitting here, acting as if it’s the end of the world. When we should be celebrating. Even if it is the end of the world—and even if there are some seriously scary people that we didn’t even know existed, out to kill us—I’d rather not be hungry when it happens. Sort out your priorities, people.”
Jake snorted. “You’re right.”
“Aren’t I always?”
At least three people shouted, “No.” But it broke the gloomy atmosphere and some of the tension seeped from the room.
The stewardess returned pronto, pushing a trolley. She came to a halt in front of Sadie. “What can I get you?”
“We’ll serve ourselves, thanks.”
She was too well trained—or well paid—to argue. “The food will be here shortly.”
“Great.”
Sadie rummaged around, found the scotch and a glass, and poured herself a drink. As she took her first sip, the others hadn’t moved. “Well, I’m not fucking serving you.”
Christa got up, poured herself a glass of white wine from a bottle in an ice bucket. “Anyone else?” she asked waving the bottle.
“Me, please,” Kaitlin said.
Christa frowned. “Are you old enough?”
“I’m eighteen, and I nearly died tonight. Give me some goddamn wine.”
Everyone laughed, but Kaitlin got her drink. The others all helped themselves. The food arrived. Chicken salad, smoked salmon, cheeses, a bowl of grapes, pizzas and pasta, crusty bread flavored with olive oil and rosemary.
Sadie ate until she could fit no more in—you never knew where your next meal was coming from—then sat back replete and sipped her scotch. They were going to have to talk about stuff soon. And her head hurt just thinking about it. Actually, there were a lot of things she didn’t want to think about right now. Well, two mainly, both no doubt fast asleep in their respective bedrooms.
