He grunted, but a corner of his mouth quirked. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”
I looked to the front, where Doc and Papa had gotten into a low-voiced conversation. Papa spoke first, a rumble like rolling thunder. “What’s your read on the witch?”
Doc answered, calm as ever. “Powerful. Young, but not inexperienced. If she wanted us dead, she could do it a hundred ways without lifting a finger.”
Papa nodded. “So we trust her?”
“No,” Doc said. “But we need her more than she needs us.”
I watched Gwen, wondering if she could hear them. She just sat, legs crossed, reading from a slim paperback whose coverwas in Cyrillic. Her lips moved as she read, a silent incantation, or maybe just a nervous habit.
The cabin lights dimmed another notch, and outside, the sky stretched endless and dark. I sipped my coffee, then curled my legs under me, trying to force myself to relax. I reclined in my seat as Jess’s hand found my knee and rested there, a silent anchor.
I closed my eyes. Sleep hovered at the edges, then fled. Every time I drifted, the darkness filled with images: the club in Houston, the feel of Steiner’s eyes on me, the way Maltraz’s claws had dug into my waist. And then, always, my sister’s face, half-hidden behind a curtain of hair. I’d barely recognized her in the files: the old softness scrubbed away, replaced by something sharp and metallic.
What if she didn’t want to be saved? What if we made it all the way to Paris and she just spat in my face? The fear settled under my ribs, cold and bright.
I opened my eyes and glanced around. No one was looking at me. Good. Maybe they’d think I was tougher than I really was.
Three hours into the flight, the attendants dimmed the lights entirely and moved through the cabin with water bottles and single-serve pastries. Parker had collapsed against Wrecker’s side, feet in his lap, asleep and drooling. Wrecker didn’t move, just scrolled on his phone, eyes bright in the faint glow.
Jess read something on his tablet, his free hand still wrapped around my thigh. His grip never slackened.
Gwen stood and padded silently to the rear bathroom. When she passed, she paused, her eyes on me. “You sleep yet?”
“Trying.”
She crouched beside me, her perfume sweet and chemical. “Nerves?”
I nodded.
She smiled, and for a second she looked much younger, almost my age. “Don’t worry. When we land, I’ll walk you through the next bit. It’ll be like a school field trip, but with guns.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
Her smile widened, flashing even white teeth. “No. But it’s honest. We need you sharp. No one else can get your sister to trust us.”
I swallowed, not trusting myself to speak.
She straightened and turned to Jess. “Wake time is in ninety minutes. Customs will be tight, but I’ll shield you until the cars are ready.”
He nodded. “Appreciate it.”
She vanished into the bathroom, and I let out a deep sigh.
Jess set his tablet down and looked at me. “You okay?”
I shrugged. “Nah, but I’ll fake it.”
He smiled, the rare, crooked one. “Faking it is how the best get through.”
“Is that how you do it?”
His hand slid higher, fingers pressing into the muscle of my thigh. “I used to. Now I just want to get you out alive.”
I turned and watched the sky outside. It was pitch black, but the window reflected us: two scared animals, bracing for whatever came next.
I thought about Paris. I thought about the way they said my mother and Brie had made a life, even if it was only a shadow of one. I thought about the men who were coming to kill us, and the demon who wanted to buy my sister as a substitute for me. The world felt so much smaller up here, and the stakes so much larger.
