good idea. Another Tracker or not, if I died on this flight because of whatever vibrations Alex and I gave off . . . who the hell knew if Agent Valley was even telling the truth? He could just be making things up as he went in order to get me to agree.
The engines rumbled and the plane started to move. Shit, too late to change my mind now.
I snapped my seatbelt on and then wrestled with Alex to do the same for him. Pouting, he sat awkwardly in the seat made for people, legs sticking out, arms folded across his chest. His body just didn’t quite work with the seat, but at least he was strapped in.
The flight attendant, Agent Valley, and another agent I didn’t recognize except for the standard FBI suit and tie, made their way to their seats and buckled up. A fourth person who had on a deep red hoodie, which covered his face, slipped into the seat at the very front, furthest away from me and Alex. Agent Valley called over his shoulder to me.
“This is your first time flying, isn’t it?”
I thought about Eve and me flying high over New Mexico. So maybe this wasn’t the same thing, but riding a Harpy with no rigging to hold you on was no mean feat.
“Nah.”
“Excellent. Then we won’t have to sedate you.”
Laughter followed his comment, and I grit my teeth. They must have seen me pacing. Assholes.
“Good thing you won’t have to try,” I said. “I’d hate to see your nose broken again, though I doubt it could look much worse than it does now.”
A sharp intake of air from the other agent and a muffled laugh from the guy in the hoodie filtered back to me. I settled back into my seat and closed my eyes. I could do this, I would not freak out, I would not freak out, I would not freak out . . . .
As the plane pulled into the air, my stomach dropped and I couldn’t stop myself from clenching the armrests. A distraction, that was what I needed. I pulled the opal pendant out of my left pocket and dangled it in front of me. No need to wear it, but I was going to keep it close. Giselle had never been wrong about her predictions, so I knew that at some point there would be a use for it. It spun slowly in the air, little pricks of color sparkled, and I mulled over the possibilities. Maybe I’d be dealing with another Reader, someone I would need to be lucid in order to crack the case.
“Alex sick.”
My eyes darted sideways to see Alex with his tongue hanging out, saliva pouring off it like a miniature river. Oh, shit, this was not good. I jammed the pendant back in my pocket, unbuckled him and clenched my hand around his collar, dragging him toward the bathroom as the plane climbed.
“Ma’m, you can’t leave your seat!” The flight attendant shouted at me.
“You do not want him puking anywhere but in the toilet!” I shouted back, thinking of all the food he’d eaten that morning.
We barely made it to the closet of a bathroom before Alex heaved his guts out, just making it into the tiny toilet. How people ever thought the mile high club was a good idea, I couldn’t see. We barely fit and we’d left the door open.
Alex retched until there was nothing left, which looked to be about four pounds of breakfast and snacks. Nothing that would have stayed in a barf bag, that was for sure.
I filled the sink with water and, taking a cloth, wiped his muzzle and face down. “Feel better now?”
He bobbed his head. “Tired.”
Slowly, Alex weaving like a drunk, we made our way back to our seats. The plane levelled off and the flight attendant came around. I took a ginger ale for Alex and a bottle of water for me.
To be in a place where the people didn’t freak out about Alex handling the pop can in an almost human manner, his claws gripping the condensation covered sides, was to say the least, strange.
Of course, he was also wearing his collar so maybe they were just seeing a large, and extremely dexterous, dog. Drinking pop.
I took a sip of my water and leaned my head back. I had a feeling it was
The engines rumbled and the plane started to move. Shit, too late to change my mind now.
I snapped my seatbelt on and then wrestled with Alex to do the same for him. Pouting, he sat awkwardly in the seat made for people, legs sticking out, arms folded across his chest. His body just didn’t quite work with the seat, but at least he was strapped in.
The flight attendant, Agent Valley, and another agent I didn’t recognize except for the standard FBI suit and tie, made their way to their seats and buckled up. A fourth person who had on a deep red hoodie, which covered his face, slipped into the seat at the very front, furthest away from me and Alex. Agent Valley called over his shoulder to me.
“This is your first time flying, isn’t it?”
I thought about Eve and me flying high over New Mexico. So maybe this wasn’t the same thing, but riding a Harpy with no rigging to hold you on was no mean feat.
“Nah.”
“Excellent. Then we won’t have to sedate you.”
Laughter followed his comment, and I grit my teeth. They must have seen me pacing. Assholes.
“Good thing you won’t have to try,” I said. “I’d hate to see your nose broken again, though I doubt it could look much worse than it does now.”
A sharp intake of air from the other agent and a muffled laugh from the guy in the hoodie filtered back to me. I settled back into my seat and closed my eyes. I could do this, I would not freak out, I would not freak out, I would not freak out . . . .
As the plane pulled into the air, my stomach dropped and I couldn’t stop myself from clenching the armrests. A distraction, that was what I needed. I pulled the opal pendant out of my left pocket and dangled it in front of me. No need to wear it, but I was going to keep it close. Giselle had never been wrong about her predictions, so I knew that at some point there would be a use for it. It spun slowly in the air, little pricks of color sparkled, and I mulled over the possibilities. Maybe I’d be dealing with another Reader, someone I would need to be lucid in order to crack the case.
“Alex sick.”
My eyes darted sideways to see Alex with his tongue hanging out, saliva pouring off it like a miniature river. Oh, shit, this was not good. I jammed the pendant back in my pocket, unbuckled him and clenched my hand around his collar, dragging him toward the bathroom as the plane climbed.
“Ma’m, you can’t leave your seat!” The flight attendant shouted at me.
“You do not want him puking anywhere but in the toilet!” I shouted back, thinking of all the food he’d eaten that morning.
We barely made it to the closet of a bathroom before Alex heaved his guts out, just making it into the tiny toilet. How people ever thought the mile high club was a good idea, I couldn’t see. We barely fit and we’d left the door open.
Alex retched until there was nothing left, which looked to be about four pounds of breakfast and snacks. Nothing that would have stayed in a barf bag, that was for sure.
I filled the sink with water and, taking a cloth, wiped his muzzle and face down. “Feel better now?”
He bobbed his head. “Tired.”
Slowly, Alex weaving like a drunk, we made our way back to our seats. The plane levelled off and the flight attendant came around. I took a ginger ale for Alex and a bottle of water for me.
To be in a place where the people didn’t freak out about Alex handling the pop can in an almost human manner, his claws gripping the condensation covered sides, was to say the least, strange.
Of course, he was also wearing his collar so maybe they were just seeing a large, and extremely dexterous, dog. Drinking pop.
I took a sip of my water and leaned my head back. I had a feeling it was
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