Page 119 of Red Fury

“That’s not possible, Mr. Marsh. You’re already on the manifest. You need to sit down. I’m sure your friend is just fine.”

Just fine, my ass.

The flight attendant appears beside me, her smile strained now. “Sir, I need to ask you to take your seat. We’re cleared for departure.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t do that. I’m getting off this plane whether you like it or not,” I tell the captain.

His eyes widen. “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to—”

I don’t bother listening to what they have to say. I squeeze past the gaping flight attendant and leave the plane, taking the steps three at a time.

36

Shadow

I climb the narrow stairs to the jet. I turn back to the terminal and sigh. Then I walk into the aircraft.

“Good evening, Ms. Douglas,” the flight attendant says. “Welcome aboard. Your seat is 3A.” She smiles, and I try to do the same back. I’m sure it’s wooden, but that can’t be helped.

“Thank you.” I nod once, pushing my boarding pass into my purse.

The cabin is sleek and comfortable. There are maybe eight other people scattered throughout the jet, all keeping to themselves.

I stow my bag in the overhead compartment and sink into my seat, grateful that the seat next to mine is empty. The leather is soft against my back, but I can’t relax. I push out another heavy breath.

Through the small window, I observe several other jets refueling. I wonder which of them is headed for Mistveil Island. Fury will already be on board. The thought makes my chest tight.

The flight attendant begins the safety demonstration, her voice a pleasant drone in the background. I listen with half an ear, my mind elsewhere. I’ve heard the routine several times before. I know the drill.

“In the event of cabin depressurization, oxygen masks will drop from the ceiling…”

I lean my head against the window and close my eyes. I’m sure that in time I will feel better. It isn’t like I’ve known Fury all that long. I hardly know anything about the male. It’s a good dose of lust. I’ll be fine.

The flight attendant moves through the cabin, checking that seatbelts are fastened and seats are in their upright positions.

“Cabin crew, prepare for departure,” the captain’s voice crackles over the intercom.

The engines hum to life, and I feel the slight vibration through the seat. We’re really doing this. I’m really leaving.

I have to.

I have no other choice.

The aircraft begins to taxi, and I keep my eyes trained on the window, watching the airport buildings slide past. Is Fury watching through his own window, thinking about me the way I can’t stop thinking about him?

Probably not. He seemed unaffected in the terminal when we said goodbye. I need to stop this. This isn’t me at all.

The jet picks up speed, and then we’re lifting off, the ground falling away beneath us. I press my face closer to the window, watching the airport shrink below. There is a ding as the seatbelt signs go off. We’re still ascending.

That’s when I hear it.

A soft clicking noise from somewhere behind me. It sounds like a cupboard opening and closing. It’s a normal sound one would hear on a flight, but for whatever reason, it has my hair standing on end and my dragon snarling inside me.

My heart rate picks up, my breathing, too.

I turn in my seat, and my worst nightmare is walking down the aisle toward me, a familiar smile playing on his lips.

Kozlov.