And I wasn’t in any hurry to make my first foray, however brief, into the world of shadows.
“I approve of that plan,” I said, and nudged Ruse. “Can you hook us up with first-class seats?”
He grinned. “Hooking up is my specialty.”
Even though that sounded delightful all around, Thorn’s frown had deepened. “Perhaps I should also accompany Sorsha, to ensure…” He trailed off with unusual reluctance.
“I’ll be fine,” I said, and hugged Snap to me once more before easing away from him, since I knew the devourer was even more likely to worry about letting me out of his sight. “They’ll need you to toss the Everymobile through the rift. It’s not as if the Company of Light will be searching every airplane to Paris for me. Omen’s friend isn’t going to expect his people to be traveling the human way.”
“Again,” Omen started. “She isn’t—"
I waved him off. “I know, I know, she’s not your friend. Po-tay-to, po-tah-to.” But Thorn didn’t appear to be at all reassured. I cocked my head. “Is something else bothering you? You know I look after myself pretty well.”
Who would have thought his frown could get even deeper? For a second, he looked adorably awkward—at least, as adorable as a musclebound giant of a man could look. “It’s no matter, m’lady,” he said, starting to turn away.
Oh, no, he wasn’t getting away with that non-answer. Thankfully, I’d been around Thorn enough to know exactly how to break through his stoicism. I marched over to him and tucked my hand around his elbow. “A word with you in private, my good sir?”
Even though I was teasing him a little, he couldn’t resist the formal politeness of the request. “As the lady wishes,” he said, and for once strode off with me to the edge of the parking lot without glancing at Omen to confirm the boss was all right with the delay. Interesting. Maybe their skirmish back in my prison room had left more fault lines in our alliance than I’d realized. I didn’t think that was necessarily a good thing.
When we were far enough from the others that they wouldn’t overhear us, I turned to Thorn. “All right. What’s the matter? And don’t tell me nothing—I can tell something’s eating at you.”
He grimaced and looked at the ground. “It doesn’t need to concern you.”
“Sure it doesn’t, but I’m concerned anyway. And I’m not letting it go until you spill the beans, so you might as well speed things along by getting right to that part.”
He gave me a glower that was as fond as it was exasperated. Then any trace of humor in his face faded. “In the canyon. You forced an end to our fight—you gave yourself up.”
“Well, seeing as it was either that or watching you two tear each other to pieces…”
His jaw clenched. “I would have managed to get you free. I struck out at the one I swore to serve to ensure it. But you… you were willing to stay caged? To let the Highest do with you what they will?”
Ah. I could see how that idea might not sit well with him.
I rested my hand on his arm. “I didn’t like the idea of facing the Highest. I just liked the idea of you or Omen—or both of you—dying instead because neither of you would back down even less. They’re not going to stop looking for me, and I’ve made myself a hell of a lot more visible in the last few weeks, so chances are I’m going to have to face them eventually anyway. But if no one else’s lives are on the line, I’ll make sure that ‘eventually’ is as far away as possible.”
“I would fight to the death if it meant saving you from some awful fate,” Thorn began, and I gripped his forearm harder.
“Think about how you feel when you picture the Highest sending their minions to kill me. I felt at least that awful watching you and Omen bashing each other around. If you’re allowed to save me, I’m allowed to save you too, remember?”
He opened his mouth and then closed it again. “I see,” he said finally. “When you put it that way… It was not giving up. It was simply a different maneuver in your own battle.”
“That’s one way of putting it.” I shot him a smile. “You should know I’m not in the habit of giving up.”
“That was precisely why the possibility was so disconcerting.”
“Well, you don’t have to worry about it. Now I’m totally focused on kicking some sphinx butt the old-fashioned way. Come on. You’ve got an RV to schlep all the way through another dimension.”
When we returned to the others, Snap tugged me to him for a lingering kiss. “If you should need anyone else to come with you on the plane…”
I could just imagine how many stares his heavenly beauty would draw. “I think we’ll be lower profile if it’s just the two of us. But I’ll aim to be back with you as soon as humanly possible. And I promise when we don’t have murdering psychos to deal with anymore, we’ll take all kinds of plane rides until you’re bored with them.”
He beamed at me and stole one more kiss. Then he shot Ruse a stern look, as if to say the incubus had better take good care of me, before following the others onto the RV.
Only Ruse and Omen remained. The hellhound shifter considered me so intently the hairs rose on my arms under his scrutiny.
“I promise not to crash the plane,” I said tartly.
The corner of his mouth twitched upward. “Do hold to that promise, Disaster. And be careful in general. We don’t know what minions the Highest might still have on the prowl. If you can manage not to cause any kind of spectacle, that would probably be for the best.”
Was he worried I might get myself caught before he could wriggle his way out of his deal? Well, I wouldn’t like the outcome of that either. “I’ll do my best to remain unchained.”
His lips twitched in the other direction at that remark. For a second, I thought he was going to add something, but then he shook his head with a jerk and stalked onto the Everymobile without another word in farewell.
Ruse went all out on the plane ride. As far as I could tell, he’d decided it was his job to pamper me into forgetting the dingy digs I’d been stuck in for the two days prior.
Along with charming a sales rep at the L.A. airport into giving us a couple of snazzy first-class seats, he somehow managed to get us served an extra posh—as airplane food went—three-course meal complete with fine wine.
“Would you prefer caviar or filet mignon?” he asked me while he held the attendant in his thrall.
I blinked at him. “Is that a joke?”
“There are very few things I won’t joke about, but one of those is good food.”
Well, if he was offering… “I’ll take a slab of beef over fish eggs any day, thank you.”
After we’d eaten, he insisted that I pick the movie we watched together on the little screens, and didn’t make a peep of complaint when I went with a slapstick comedy with about as much nuance as a steamroller. He massaged my shoulders and my feet until I got dozy. Then he tucked me in with a cashmere blanket on my reclined seat. I’d swear I heard him crooning some operatic French lullaby as I drifted off to sleep.