18. Chapter Eighteen
1260 Words
18
Chapter Eighteen
Bryar Rose
I’ve fought the undead, so you’d think JFK wouldn’t be an issue.
It is.
And there are four reasons behind this.
First, I’ve never been in airport before. I mean, I barely left the penthouse in the past. Going to the Adirondacks or to Brooklyn was a big journey. Now, I’m in an airport.
Second, there are people everywhere. They’re all rushing around with their bags and their briefcases. Everyone seems to know exactly where to go and what to do. For my part, I needed to ask four people in uniforms before I figured out how to get my ticket and go through security.
Third, why do they hate my shoes? I was almost past the scanner gateway thing but I had left my flats on. Not sure what that was all about, but I was basically dragged back and had to go through again. However, leaving my shoes on seemed to mark me as dangerous. They even had to bring over a lady guard to touch my junk. That was unexpected.
All of which brings me to the present moment and item number four. How do I find my gate? It’s all very confusing to find signage, in my humble opinion.
If there’s one benefit to this situation, it’s that my wolf is still asleep. What she’d make of this entire situation, I don’t even want to imagine. The words freak and out come to mind. My inner animal isn’t fond of crowds.
Although I don’t have to worry about my wolf, that doesn’t mean I’m not carrying around another kind of anxiety. As I step along, a weight of guilt settles into my bones. I know what it’s about: Elle and Knox. I left them a lame note saying that Colonel Mallory asked me to join him on a tour of Europe, so they shouldn’t bother trying to text or call for a few days. It seems pretty believable and something the Colonel would do, but I still feel crappy about lying.
Finally, I find my gate and get in line to board.
And that’s when a familiar face steps out of the crowd. All the blood seems to drain from my body.
Standing before me is Reggie, the undead dude who was imprisoned in Alec’s basement but escaped last summer.
The guy who used to follow Jules.
And I know for a fact that Reggie’s favorite meal is human.
Oh, no.
Reggie strides forward. Like before, he looks like he fell out of a toothpaste ad in 1950. He’s dressed in a three-piece suit and fedora. His black hair is slicked back with way too much gel. And his skin is too smooth and perfect to be real.
He waves at me like we’re old friends. “Bryar Rose!”
I freeze. “Don’t eat my brains.” There are smoother things I could say at this point, but it’s been a long twenty-four hours.
Reggie steps closer. “Didn’t the Colonel tell you? I’m your guardian angel now.”
“Buzz off.” There, that sounded much more like me.
A manic gleam returns to Reggie’s blue eyes. “Bleak, freak, hide and seek. Ignore my words, he dies in a week.”
My heart sinks. Reggie loves to speak in sing-song style. It’s super creepy. Every cell in my body wants to run onto the plane and forget this conversation ever happened. But I can’t get past the last thing Reggie said.
Ignore my words, he dies in a week.
“You’re talking about Knox,” I say in a low voice.
Reggie nods, his eyes still gleaming manically. How could Colonel Mallory think that having Reggie help me would be a good idea? I stare longingly at the jetway. I’d love to walk away right now. But if there’s any chance Reggie knows something that will help Knox, I simply have to try.
I grip the straps of my duffle so tightly, my nails bite into my palms. “Tell me what you know.”
“Fountain of magic, fountain of magic. Destroy it all and life turns tragic.”
I frown. “No one’s been talking about destroying the fountain, Reggie.”
Not yet, anyway. But if I haven’t confided the fact to my mate and best friend, I’m certainly not sharing it with an undead freak who’s accosting me in JFK.
“Ties, tries, words and lies. Remember that and no one dies.” Reggie then turns and stalks off into the crowd. I watch him leave, shaking my head in shock.
Well, that was a useless conversation.
With Reggie gone, I’m finally able to walk the jetway and find my seat on the plane. The flight no sooner lifts off than my eyelids feel like they’re weighed down with boulders. Looks like staying up all night hacking is finally catching up with me. Within minutes, I fall asleep.
At first, my dreams are pretty cool. I have a vision of the plane’s cabin filling with white mist. Child-Me runs up and down the aisle. I catch flashes of bright red hair. Her laughter is like the tinkling of bells.
“Come and find me!” she calls.
I unbuckle my belt to do just that when I notice the shadows creeping down the curved walls of the fuselage. The mist on the floor turns a thicker shade of white. The darkness on the walls congeals into the form of two Shadowvin. A knot of emotion tightens in my throat.
I’m in a plane.
Over an ocean.
And a mile into the air.
The Shadowvin showing up here can’t be a good thing.
With halting steps, I force myself to step away from the Shadowvin. The mist by my feet turns even thicker. The air thickens. It becomes an effort to pull in a breath.
This is a dream, Byrar Rose. Everything will be fine.
Up front, the door protecting the pilots bursts open with a BANG. The plane rocks; I fall onto my butt. A wave of mist and white light pour into the main cabin. All the passengers start to lose their minds. Everyone screams and crawls over each other, moving in a mad rush to get away from the front of the plane. The aircraft lurches violently from side to side. My heart beats with such force, I worry it will break through my rib cage.
The Void appears at the far end of the aisle, right by the ruined pilot’s door. I want to scream and run, but I’m rooted to the spot.
Stupid dream.
When the Void speaks, his voice booms through the air. “Bring me to the fountain! The fountain!”
Somehow, I’m able to croak out one word. “No.”
The Shadowvin cackle with glee. “Whether you want to or not,” they say in unison. “You’re already helping us.”
The plane starts to spiral downward. My body becomes squished against a nearby wall. Luggage falls out of the overhead bins and tosses through the air. The screams turns deafening.
I grip onto the top of a chair and yell with all my strength. “Never!”
The dream ends. I find myself wide-awake. A super-nervous fight attendant stands at the end of my aisle. “Are you all right, miss?” he asks.
I look at the two business folks in the seats beside mine. The way their eyes are bugging out of their heads, I was definitely just screaming “never” at the top of my lungs.
Ugh.
“I’m fine,” I say quickly. “Bad dream, that’s all.”
The flight attendant narrows his eyes at me. He isn’t buying my bad dream story and I don’t blame him. But what do I say? There’s a supernatural big bad following me around?
“Seriously.” I force a grin. “I’m all right now.”
The fight attendant nods. “You’ll want to rebuckle your seatbelt. We’re about to land in Charles de Gaulle.”
After reclicking my buckle, I let out a long sigh. We’re almost about to land. That’s good news.
I think.
- Writer
