“Well, thank you, Miss Lauber. I was worried when you first arrived, but I think this will please my director.” Kendra shook Meline’s hand.
Roc couldn’t believe they were leaving. His steps slowed as they reached the door.
“Come on, slow poke.” Meline grabbed his hand and tugged.
He gave her a look that spoke volumes and she pursed her lips as she goaded him out the door.
Dammit, his shoulders dropped as the vault sealed behind him.
“I knew I should’ve put up more of a fight when she said she had a plan,” he mumbled as they headed back to the loading dock. Meline wasn’t a seasoned thief.
“I heard that.” She scowled, squeezing his hand till it smarted.
Shit, he winced.
“I’m sorry, but you’re not cut out for this,” he whispered back.
“Is everything okay?” Kendra looked back at them.
“He’s just grumpy we didn’t get a tour,” Meline quickly covered.
“Maybe another day.” The curator smiled as they reached the van. “All right, here you go.” Kendra patted a crate sitting on the dock.
His eyes widened when the curator pulled back the padding to reveal the stained-glass butterfly. There in the center of its body was the sigil.
“Great. Thank you for being so understanding. My family has missed this.” Meline nodded to the woman as the crate was resealed.
“We appreciate the exchange, and that you’ve entrusted us with another of your grandfather’s works, given recent circumstances.”
Roc couldn’t get the crate into the van fast enough. Meline hopped into the front seat and they pulled out of the dock. He expected a band of thugs or guards to pop up at any moment as they drove around the museum and exited onto the open road, but they never did. Roc flashed his lights, signaling his sire as they headed toward the highway.
“So…” Meline cast a smug glance his way.
“You did good,” he admitted sheepishly.
“Yeah I did, and don’t you forget it.” She jabbed a finger at him.
“I’m sorry.” He cringed at her acerbic tone. He felt like a total bastard for doubting her. “You refused to tell me the whole plan and I got worried when it took so long.”
“Well I tried, but you guys decided you wanted to argue over top of me, ‘cause what could the little helpless human possibly do compared to a big fancy art thief?” Meline huffed. She was angry, but he could hear the deep hurt lacing her voice.
“It was a brilliant plan. You’re amazing. I’m truly sorry I didn’t listen, and that you gave up your grandfather’s painting, but I appreciate it,” he replied, feeling even worse.
Meline nodded and they grew quiet as they drove toward the small airport where he had a private jet waiting. He concentrated on the road, keeping one eye out for cars that might be following them. Once they arrived, Roc grabbed the crate and followed Meline up the stairs of the plane.
“We’re almost gassed up, if you’d like to take your seats.” The pilot gestured toward the cabin.
“We have one more joining us, if you could just wait for a minute,” he informed the pilot.
“Of course, sir.” The man nodded.
Roc took a seat next to Meline and looked out the window. He watched the ground crew finish fueling up then leave. He kept darting his wary gaze up and down the tarmac. Meline had come through for him. Her plan didn’t attract attention, and they came and went from the museum like any run of the mill delivery. But he couldn’t help being suspicious of how well it went. Roc replayed the encounter he had with the cop outside the museum, and the expressions worn by the guard and curator. It all felt too easy.
A shadow near the hull of the plane captured his attention.
Finally. He watched his sire sneak into the baggage hold.
“I just got a text. We’ll be going alone,” Roc called to the pilot sitting in the cockpit.
“All right. We’re cleared for take-off.”
Roc sat on the edge of his seat as they taxied down the runway and didn’t relax till they lifted off the ground. He cast a concerned glance at Meline when she released an audible sigh. Despite her bravado, this whole ordeal was wearing on her. She shouldn’t have to shoulder the burden of evading his foes. On top of it, he’d hurt her.
I’m truly sorry, angel.
“I should check on my sire,” he said after the plane leveled off.
She nodded then leaned her head against the window. He got up, grabbed the crate and headed toward the rear hold.
“The sigil is calling to me. Let me see it,” Petronus said before he got one foot through the door.
“Here.” Roc passed his sire the crate. Of course the sigil was his sire’s first concern. “I’m going to assume we weren’t followed, since you didn’t knock on the door.”
“No.” Petronus waved him off as he cracked open the lid then paused, a relieved expression crossing his stern face.
Roc couldn’t recall seeing his sire look so happy before, maybe once, when he was young.
“Your Earthian did good.” Petronus reverently lifted the butterfly out of the box.
“She did.” Roc nodded.
Petronus’ claw extended, and he gingerly pried the wings off the sigil. It seemed like a shame to ruin a beautiful piece of art, but it couldn’t be avoided. Hopefully Meline wouldn’t be hurt by this. The instant his sire held the sigil in his hand, a crimson light filled the cargo hold and a series of symbols shimmered over the surface of the odd blood-red stone.
“I need to compare this to a map,” Petronus said as he read the Khargal script.
Roc pulled out the burner phone and brought up the map app then widened the view so his sire could see the entire continent.
“The coordinates are leading us here.” Petronus pointed to Mount Nirvana on the map.
“That’s in the Northwest territories, almost near Alaska.”
Of course the pick-up location is in the middle of nowhere. Why wouldn’t it be? Roc groaned.
“We need to hurry. It shows pick-up is less than a rotation away. Divert this vessel immediately.” Petronus almost looked panicked.
“Shit! That soon?! It’ll take most of that time just to get close. Can you shut off the self-destruct feature on that thing just in case we don’t make it?”
Petronus swiped his finger over the sigil.
“It is off. Do not get your tail in a twist, Rochelle.” His sire smirked at him.
“Oh, I’m sorry that an exploding alien device makes me nervous,” he retorted. Petronus was unbelievable.
“Exploding?” Petronus snorted. “It does not explode.”
“You always said the sigil was dangerous and would self-destruct if it was left behind.”
“Yes. The Earthians are growing advanced and cannot have this. This technology is dangerous in their hands. They are not ready for it yet. And yes, it does self-destruct if left behind after we ascend, but it does not explode.” Petronus shook his head as he laughed.
“You’re a real piece of work,” Roc growled. Yet again, his sire’s lack of communication had left him in the dark. “I have no interest in going to Duras, so you’re real lucky I did think it was going to explode. That’s the only reason I tried so hard to find it, since your grumpy ass refused to rouse, no matter how many times I went to that damn dig site.”
Petronus’ brow furrowed, and he was silent for a moment.
“I am sorry. There is a lot I should have taken the time to tell you. I wish things had been different.”
Roc’s eyes widened hearing his sire’s sincere apology. His shock doubled when Petronus gripped his shoulder. Strangely, he found it comforting.
“Why? Why did you retreat into the duramna?” he asked, trying to keep years of hurt from tingeing his voice.
“Your dam died, you left, and then Nicolas was sighted with me.” Petronus’ face contorted as old memories assailed him. “The religious zealots thought Nic was cavorting with the dev
il. I could not let him suffer and I was tired. We made up a story and put on a big show of him defeating then entombing me in stone. It was the only way.”
“Oh.” Roc nodded.
A host of emotions filled him. On one hand he was relieved Nicolas hadn’t turned on his family, but on the other, he’d had everything wrong all these centuries. Yes, his sire retreated into the duramna, weary from life on Earth, but he had good reasons. Rather than being angry, the whole situation was devastatingly sad.
“Come to Duras with me. I understand you are enamored with Meline, but I do not want to lose you again. I have lost too many loved ones.” Petronus squeezed his shoulder.
Roc’s brow furrowed as his sire threw him for another loop. How long had he waited to hear him say those words? This was too much all at once.
“I have to go divert the plane.” Roc gripped his sire’s arm, returning the unexpected affectionate gesture, then left the luggage hold.
On his way to the cockpit he found Meline fast asleep. She’d been up all night and was exhausted. He couldn’t blame her, this had been a non-stop adventure and he was weary to the bone. Everything his sire revealed and the events of the last few days were hitting him hard.
His life used to be so clear. All he had to decide was what to steal. But the moment he met Meline everything changed. She filled his shadowy world with light. And what did he do in return? He brought her danger and broke her heart. Was she right? Was he too afraid of losing her to hold on?
He clenched his fists in frustration.
That might be part of his problem, but the attempts on her life were very real. He’d been alone all this time for a reason; he wasn’t human, and never would be. He didn’t want to let Meline down, but as long as he was in her life she’d be at risk. It didn’t matter how much he wished it wasn’t so.
Roc hung his head as he walked toward the cockpit. This was an impossible situation.
17
Meline
“We’re here” Roc rubbed her arm.
“Where’s here?” Meline blinked in disbelief as she stared out the airplane window. It was dark but she was certain she saw snow-covered mountains beyond the runway.
“The middle of nowhere Canada. My sire learned the pick-up location was some remote peak in the Northwest territories.”
“Northwest Canada! How long was I asleep?” She gaped at him.
“Eight hours. We just landed in a little place called Fort Laird, but we’re still a hundred miles south of our destination.”
Meline glanced out the window again, shocked she’d slept through the entire flight. Obviously, it had been uneventful. She’d been exhausted but there’s no way she’d sleep through Nightshade ambushing the plane. Once they got off the ground that would’ve been near impossible. The asshole claimed to have connections, but she doubted he could scramble a fighter jet to shoot them out of the sky. Her shoulders eased. It was a relief to be half a continent away from that psychopath. And they actually succeeded retrieving the relic.
Her eyes widened when she caught Petronus sneaking out of the belly of the plane. She was glad there weren’t that many spotlights and only a handful of bundled-up staff milling around the small airport. Petronus looked around then leapt into the sky, disappearing into the harsh arctic night.
“It would be a little hard for him to hide in the tiny puddle jumpers that venture north in these parts. It’s cold, but not impossible for our kind to fly in this weather,” Roc commented as he glanced out the window over her shoulder.
“He’s going all alone?” She frowned. Petronus was a crusty character but he was Roc’s dad, and despite being able to withstand the weather it didn’t seem safe or right.
“No.”
“Oh. You’re going with him,” Meline whispered, her heart suddenly in her throat, her eyes burning as tears formed.
So, this is goodbye. But this time it was for good.
Meline turned back toward the window, so he couldn’t see her devastation. She should be happy for Roc. He was reunited with his only family and they were going back home where they wouldn’t have to worry about people like Nightshade, except she couldn’t muster a smile. Maybe it was foolish, but as long as he was here on Earth, a glimmer of hope lived inside her. But this—this was all so final.
Roc cupped her chin and gently tried to turn her to face him. She resisted. The last image she wanted him to have was of her ugly crying.
“Meline.”
The pain in his voice had her relenting. Her breath stuttered out seeing his serious silver eyes.
“I’ve had a lot of time to think. I probably should go to Duras with my sire, we’re apparently not that different,” Roc laughed morosely. “Over the last few centuries I let myself grow hard as the rock we shift into. I found solace in things ‘cause the thought of getting close to someone only to lose them to danger, illness or time…” Roc shook his head as he rubbed his chest.
He didn’t need to finish that statement. She understood his pain only too well having lost her family. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
“I know the life I can offer you isn't what you deserve.” Roc’s brow furrowed as his voice grew thick. “But, angel, you make my life worth living, and are the only reason I can think of to stay. I love you so much."
She couldn’t reach him fast enough. Meline threw her arms around Roc’s neck and slammed her lips against his, pouring all the love she felt for him into her kiss. Her elation was magnified by the shear devastation she’d felt only a moment ago. Her heart was going to burst out of her chest.
“So, does this mean I’m forgiven and should stay?” he laughed, while clutching her so close it was almost hard to breathe.
“Yes!” She peppered his face with kisses as happy tears spilled from her eyes.
“Eh hmm,” someone coughed and they both turned to see the pilot standing in the doorway of the cockpit. “I found a pilot heading up to the lodge at Glacier Lake, if you’re still interested in reaching Nahanni National Park tonight. Apparently, it’s the last run of the day.” The man pointed outside to a tiny craft that actually had a propeller on its nose.
“Well, we better get going. I should see my father off,” Roc said with an appreciative nod to the pilot as he opened the cabin door.
“Wait. You can’t go out there like that,” the pilot exclaimed, staring at her fall jacket and bare legs.
“Oh yeah, I guess I’m not dressed right for this weather.” She frowned, shivering as a gust of wind and swirling snow invaded the airplane cabin.
“We didn’t really think this through,” Roc added, smirking at the blustery weather.
No, they hadn’t, but it’s not like they knew where the sigil was going to lead them.
“Here.” The pilot kindly tugged off his coat.
“I can’t take your jacket.” She looked down at the offering.
“It’s okay, it’s old.” The man thrust the jacket into her hand. “Sorry I don’t have one for you.”
“That’s all right. Thank you. I really appreciate this.” Roc helped her pull on the second layer before they headed down the steps.
It was cold as they hustled across the tarmac, especially on her legs, but they were only going a dozen yards to the waiting plane.
“Wait,” she chattered, halting Roc as they neared the small craft. She reached up and fixed the hat threatening to blow off and reveal the remnants of his horns. “We can’t expose that little surprise.”
“Thanks, angel.” He grinned, and they continued on.
“You the ones going up to Glacier Lake?” the pilot who looked like he never shaved a day in his life greeted them.
“Yes.” Roc knocked snow off her as they ducked into the cramped cabin.
“Hey.” Meline nodded to the two men in the back, dressed like park rangers, as she took one of the two remaining seats behind the pilot.
This was the smallest plane she’d ever been in. There was no way Petronus would’ve been able to hide in he
re. The cargo storage behind the four passenger seats made the trunk space in her car look lavish. Poor Roc could barely fit beside her. She felt bad as he hunched in the seat and his head still brushed the ceiling.
“You know it’s just as cold, maybe colder, where we’re going, right?” one of the rangers asked with a scornful cock of his brow.
“I’ve got gear for sale if you’ve got cash,” the shaggy pilot interjected.
Meline had a feeling the man made a small fortune off ill-equipped tourists. He probably saw dollar signs the second they approached his plane.
“Sold!” Roc said without batting an eye as he got out his wallet. “How does a grand sound for a coat for me, and enough to cover my girlfriend from head to toe?”
“You got it.” The pilot licked his lips greedily as he took the handful of bills.
“I bet people like us keep you in business,” she commented to the rangers, attempting to make small talk as the pilot exited.
The pair nodded, but didn’t reply. Instead they stared dubiously at them like they were morons. She could only imagine what kind of trouble ignorant tourists got into up here in God’s country.
Meline shivered when the pilot got back in toting a large bundle that he handed off to Roc.
“I’m glad I stopped at the ATM before our little adventure this morning,” he whispered as he helped her shimmy into the coat and snow pants.
“Me, too. Thanks.” She beamed at Roc, then cozied against his side as he wrapped an arm around her.
“Can we get going?” one of the rangers piped up.
“I’m going,” the gruff pilot rumbled as he started up the engine and taxied down the runway.
Anxiety thrummed with every beat of her heart as they took off, shocked they didn’t skid all over the icy tarmac as they built up speed. It was dark once they got in the air, but surprisingly the snow on the ground glowed in the moonlight. The plane stayed low, skimming the harsh landscape, and it seemed like the pilot was following a river cutting through the trees heading toward the nearby snowy peaks.
That must be how they find their way around up here.
Hard as Rock Page 19
