Even I wasn’t brave enough to take a box truck up the Dragon, but my teams were hyped up on adventure and considered themselves ten feet tall and bulletproof. As usual.
The six-person security team with me at my HQ near Asheville had their own protocol to get me from Black Mountain to Begin the Dragon. Sweet Cheeks and I would be on one of my two helos.
My life was weird. I hadtwohelos.Two.Who needed two helicopters?
The Dark Queen. That’s who.
I dressed in unmarked riding leathers, no insignia, nothing to identify me as the queen. My old kick-stomper Lucchese boots, the leather freshly oiled and looking better than the ancient boots had a right to, slid on as if I’d never evolved from a biker chick to a royal. I looked as anonymous as it was possible to be, if no one considered the presence of the security outriders, the trucks, the crew, and the helo. Other than that . . .
The instant I opened HQ’s front door, icy air shot in, along with the distinct, rhythmic thuds that said “helo ready todepart.” The cold winter air cut against my face and the thudding pounded into my ribcage.
Deep inside, my Beast grumbled something about being in the air with no ground beneath her paws, a complaint I ignored as I jogged across the compound toward the helo landing site, bent over to protect myself from spinning rotors. Artificial wind spun up grit and debris. I slitted my eyes and slid on sunglasses to protect them while I crab-ran.
Sitting in belly of stupid bird with no wings,Beast muttered.
Agreed, I thought back at her.But better than spending all night with the nut job truck drivers I call friends.
Should be in Beast form. Cling to top of truck. Scream at top of lungs, “Beast is here! Beast claims all territory on mountain top! Beast rides Dragon! Beast. Is. Not. Preeey!” Screamscreamscream! “Mine! All mine!”
Sure? But claws on a box truck. On the Tail. Clinging. You do know you’d be thrown off into the gorge, right?
Beast is not prey. Beast likes to ride trucks. Like riding bison. Wil-de-beast. Like taking down big prey. Jane did not ask the I/we of Beast.
Okay. Um, Sorry? Next time?
Beast willnotforget Jane’s promise. Next time. On box truck.
I might forget, but Beast wouldn’t. Dang cat remembered everything.
I strapped in to the helo seat and dropped my comms around my neck to put the proper headgear on. It sealed tight to my head to cut the worst of the rotor and engine noise. Instantly, I was again tied into comms. It seemed as if I was perpetually tied to comms these days, my IT team and security units chattering in my ears twenty-four, seven. No privacy. No silence.
No way was I taking a comms unit on my honeymoon. I’d shift into Beast and disappear into the woods, letting only Bruiser follow. Yeah. That would work. I scowled at the back of the pilot’s head. “I should have let her ride on the truck,” I muttered, though that would have caused an all-out scramble by my teams.
“Beg pardon, love?” Bruiser asked, leaning close.
I let my grimace fall away, pecked his cheek in a chaste kiss, and smiled. His brows went up in skeptical consideration. He knew I was thinking about running away. Either the man was a mind reader or I’d started to give everything away. I shook my head in anothing importantgesture which only made his brows go higher and his skepticism grow.
I was so gonna let Beast off the chain. Soon.
I glanced around the helo IDing three security types. One was a newbie, Manuel, I thought. One was Quint, her cold eyes scanning out the window. One was Eli. On that weird deeper level where we were tied, gut-to-gut, I had known Eli was aboard. I grinned a real smile at him and he smiled back, a bit less exuberant than my own, though the tug in my guts said he was excited to ride the Dragon on a bike. Yeah. We both had issues with this tie, but we were working on it. And his greenish eyes sparkled in his light-brown face. There was no hiding the fact we were all eager to be doing something other than royal protocol crap and fighting my enemies.
The helo lifted off and, once we were airborne, I closed my eyes. A little airsick, but nothing to throw up over. Beast grumbled, her claws in my brain to show her displeasure. It hurt, but I could stand it.
As the crow flies, it wasn’t far from Black Mountain to Begin the Dragon at Deal’s Gap, North Carolina, but there was no helo pad, and the approach and landing was . . . difficult? Insane? Suicidal? I kept my eyes closed as the pilot bankedaround hills and dodged trees and power lines until we hovered over the parking area at Deal’s Gap Motorcycle Resort. I might have started hyperventilating. The rectangle our advance people had marked off in the parking area looked the size of a matchbook.
Precision landing.Crap in a bucket.
Beast hates belly of stupid bird.
Flying is fine,I thought back,but the landings can suck.
Beast chuffed in disdain.
Our pilot settled down with only a wobble. I tossed the headgear and hopped out as though my heart hadn’t been lodged in my throat. Bending double, Bruiser and I followed Quint, with Eli and Manuel at our rear, all of us racing to the rest of the sec-unit, our gear, and the bikes. The air shivered with cold in the wind of the rotors. My long black braid whipped in the wind.
Behind us, the helo took off, flying toward our pickup spot at the end of the run. Security, standing around the bikes, broke out in applause. Which I barely heard over the thud of helo blades, and . . . shouts?
Shouting was weird enough that I looked around. Also clapping and yelling approval were a dozen bystanders, most with cell videos recording.Crap. I was live.I put my fake smile on and waved as the helo lifted off. Dang.Just one day of privacy.I looked at the heavens, silently begging, seeing the helo doing a death-defying maneuver that practically took it upside down. Oy.
