Raised in Fire (Fire and Ice Trilogy 2)

Dizzy and I smiled harder.

A half-hour later, the driver pulled right up onto the tarmac by a waiting private jet. Outside stood a woman in a flight attendant uniform with an aviator pin at her breast. Stairs led from the jet’s open door down to the ground, and a red carpet led away from them.

A sinking feeling lodged in my gut as I got out of the car and retrieved my bag.

“This seems awfully luxurious for what we’re doing here,” Dizzy said with a furrowed brow. He took his suitcase from the trunk and stood beside me. “That’s a big one, too. It can fly internationally.”

“How do you know?” Callie looked wary as she looked up at the gleaming white jet cut with blue at the bottom.

“I’ve looked them up. I dream big.” Dizzy hitched up his pants.

“Ms. Somerset, so good of you to join us.” The woman standing beside the steps came forward with a red-lipped smile. “Will your friends be joining you?”

“Yes, they will. Whose jet is this?” I let her lead me to the stairs.

“Just go ahead and leave your bags here. I’ll have those stowed for you.”

I hugged my duffel a little closer. “Actually, I think I’ll hold on to it.”

“I’m afraid your bags have to be stowed. Please, take out whatever you need before you board.” She nodded at us and moved away toward the driver.

“She didn’t answer your question,” Callie said, digging into her suitcase for her satchel. She flung it over her shoulder.

“We might not be able to take that in.” Dizzy pointed at Callie’s newly donned bag. “And we definitely shouldn’t take a gun on an airplane.”

That last comment was directed at me, but I slipped the weapon into my waistline anyway. “It’s fine. No one has to know.”

“Well, I’ll know, and if you miss, I’ll head straight down to the ground with you.” Dizzy shook his head.

“Go,” Callie said, pushing me. “I don’t want to give them time to take away my spells.”

“I feel like a fugitive.” Dizzy crowded in behind me.

“Just go ahead up the stairs,” the flight attendant called out. “We’ll be underway within the half-hour. My assistant, Ms. Eddings, will make sure you are comfortable.”

“I’ve always wanted to fly in one of these. I half worry they’ll shut the door as soon as they have Reagan onboard.” Dizzy looked over the banister and down at the ground. “Our own private runway, too.”

“It’s not a private runway.” I pointed at the huge 747s lining up to fly out. “This is just our own boarding site.”

“Our own boarding site. With no security!” Dizzy shook his head and smiled. “This is a good day.”

“They might still be ferreting us off to kill us.” Callie glanced over her shoulder at the black car creeping along the tarmac, heading back the way we’d come. There went our ride.

“It would have to be someone very rich and powerful to put all this effort into killing us,” Dizzy replied. When I paused at the door, he motioned me onward. “C’mon. We can handle whatever it is. Let’s just enjoy this while it lasts. I bet they serve champagne.”

The interior was every bit as plush as Dizzy must’ve hoped. An oriental rug graced the entranceway. Four chairs filled out each of the compartment’s four corners, arranged so the passengers could easily communicate. Pulled-back curtains stood between that and the next compartment, which had a beige couch on one side and two chairs with a table between them on the other. Just beyond this section was what looked like a bed in the back.

“I’ve died and gone to heaven.” Dizzy stepped around me, moving toward the area with the more social seating arrangement. “What do you think, Reagan? Do you want a chair or the couch?”

“You guys can have the chairs. They’re probably easier to get out of.”

“So thoughtful.” Dizzy sank into the chair with a smile. Callie and I were still in the entryway.

“Welcome,” a woman said from the back, coming toward us. She pulled the curtain across the back compartment with the bed. Apparently we wouldn’t be allowed to take a nap. “Please, have a seat. Can I get you something to drink?”

“Do you have champagne?” Dizzy asked with a smile.

“Of course. And for you, Ms. Somerset?”

“Water is fine. Thanks.” I sat on the couch and turned so I could look out the window. The sun was kissing the horizon, throwing long shadows across the runway.

“Water. Thank you.” Callie lowered into the seat opposite Dizzy, maintaining a firm hold on her satchel.

“Not champagne?” Dizzy’s face fell.

“We don’t know why we’re on this jet. We don’t even know why that door hasn’t been closed up yet. Sobriety is a good idea right now.” Callie adjusted and looked back toward the door.

“They are waiting for the other flight attendant. She said we’d be underway within the half-hour.” Dizzy softly drummed on the tabletop.

“Why does one person need two flight attendants? They didn’t know we’d be coming.” Callie’s lips tightened, but she didn’t say anything else.

Time ticked by. The flight attendant gave us our drinks and provided us with appetizers, as tasty as one might expect from a fine-dining restaurant. The crew stowed our bags under the plane and fueled up the craft. Still, the door remained ajar. Finally, when I was about ready to call the whole thing off, the black car crawled toward us once again.

“Here’s the secret third party,” I said under my breath.

A man stepped out gracefully. I would recognize that silhouette anywhere—tall and powerful, with muscular, broad shoulders and a refined posture rarely seen in this day and age.

“That rat bastard,” I mumbled.

“What?” Dizzy asked before hurriedly finishing his glass of champagne.

“I can’t see. It’s too dark.” Callie hunched down in order to see out the window opposite her.

“Ah yes, Mr. Durant is here. We can be underway soon.” The attendant’s eyes glittered as she glanced out the window.

I shook my head, fire tingling across my middle.

Darius pulled his suit coat taut across his chest before doing up a button. He glanced up at the very window from which I was watching him. His face remained impassive. He must’ve known the anger he was walking into, but it didn’t show in his expression.

“I am not amused,” I said quietly.

“Do not ruin this beautiful plane, Reagan Somerset,” Dizzy said, relaxing again. He held his glass up for the attendant. “Might I have another, please? Now that we aren’t fearing death, I think all of us could do with some unwinding.”

Callie shook her head at Dizzy in exasperation.

Darius paused outside to speak to the attendant who had been scurrying around. She nodded before continuing to direct the ground crew. After his unhurried walk up the stairs, he appeared in the plane, his body showing off his tailored suit to perfection. “I apologize for making you wait.” He lowered next to me and flicked the button on his jacket open again.

“You buttoned it up just for the short walk in?” I leaned back, feeling anger pinging through my body.

“First impressions are key. Callie, Desmond, so nice to see you again. Will you be accompanying us to Seattle?”

“You bet your ass we will,” Callie said, her bulldog expression firmly in place.

“What a lovely plane you have, Darius,” Dizzy said. “I am in awe. Such luxury.”

“Thank you.” Darius clasped his fingers, his focus on me. “You have questions.”

“Yes, but I’m not at all curious about how fast you can run,” I said. “Do you know why?”

“I couldn’t begin to guess.”

“Because when I teach you a lesson for interfering in my life, running away won’t save you.”

“Fascinating. Horribly inaccurate, but fascinating.” Darius regarded me evenly. “You quit the MLE office.”

“Yes. Why, did you expect me to stay and then thank you for bailing me out?”