Otherworld Challenger (4 page)

Her face was inches from Jethro's, her shoulder pressed against his. Physical contact that was uncomfortably pleasant. It was a first. Something strange started happening inside her chest. As if her heart was insistently trying to pound its way out of her body. His nearness was delivering sensory overload. Every part of her was achingly aware of his scent, as though she had imbibed it through her pores. Not the smell of his cologne. Beneath that. The scent of
him
. Dark, spicy and seductive. It made her shudder ever so slightly. At least, she hoped the quivering movement was slight. She would hate to think Jethro could feel it.

Her eyes were drawn insistently to his mouth. Why had she never noticed the perfection of that luscious slope to his lower lip? Or the stubble outlining his upper lip that had darkened as their journey progressed. It was so tempting to reach out her finger to find out if the bristles were as coarse as they looked. She actually had to fight the impulse at the same time she was resisting the urge to trace the small cleft in his chin with her fingertips. And his eyes...

“Dark and bright at the same time.”
Tell me I didn't say that out loud.

“Pardon?”

Aware that she was still nestled close against him, Vashti sat up straight. “Is this our destination?” In an effort to distract him, she pointed at the city unfolding below them.

Jethro shook his head. “No, that's one more stopping-off point.”

“Tell me we don't have to stand in another line.”

He grinned. “Sorry.”

Vashti groaned and slumped back in her seat. The action drew the attention of her admirer across the aisle and he turned his head again. “That guy over there keeps looking at me,” Vashti complained in an undertone to Jethro.

“Vampires,” he said it dismissively. “They've been with us since we stepped through the portal on Orkney.”

She took a moment to digest this information. “They are
following
us?”

“Well, if we're going to be precise about it, they're following me. Blatantly. They do it all the time.”

“Why?” She gave the vampire another glare and he mimed placing a hand over his heart in mock hurt.

“Because your friend the vampire prince has sworn to have me killed. Every vampire from here to the far end of Otherworld will earn their master's undying—no pun intended—gratitude if they can present Tibor with my head.”

“So why doesn't this one kill you now and get it over with?”

Jethro grinned. “I'm a necromancer. I'm not that easy to kill. Tibor sends his bloodsuckers along to remind me of his pledge. It's a little game he likes to play.”

It might be a game, but the smug vampire was seriously annoying Vashti. “I'll fix them.”

She unbuckled her seat belt and made a move to rise from her seat. Jethro grabbed her around the waist, pulling her back down and holding her still when she tried to squirm away from him.

“You are playing by mortal rules now. Murdering two people in full view of the other passengers on an international flight tends to be frowned upon.”

“Even vampires?”

He started to laugh, the sound vibrating through his chest where it came into contact with her shoulders as he held her against him. It was an effective way of distracting her from thoughts of vampire killing.

“Even vampires. The other people on this plane don't know those two are vampires. Tibor and his followers have evolved to the point where they can spend time in the mortal realm and blend in here. It's daylight. That guy doesn't need a coffin filled with the soil of his homeland. I could produce a crucifix right now and he'd only look a bit queasy. If you drew a silver dagger on him, he'd put up a hell of a fight. If you won—and I'm sure you would—he'd die like a mortal.” He cast a glance across the aisle at the back of the vampire's head. “But, unless you staked and decapitated him, he'd rise again. They haven't evolved that far.”

“Tibor isn't my friend.” Vashti didn't know why, but it mattered to her that Jethro should understand that. “Why does he want you dead?”

Jethro let her go and she tried to quell the tiny feeling of disappointment. “Do you remember his human servant, the one called Dimitar?” Vashti nodded as she buckled up again. “Dimitar suddenly decided he wanted to be my servant not Tibor's. I have no idea why. I didn't want a servant...but we became friends.” His mouth thinned into a hard line. “Tibor had us hunted down. Dimitar lost his immunity to a vampire's bite once he left the prince's service. Tibor's followers captured us and chained us up in a dungeon in Tangiers. They couldn't exert any mind control over me, so they beat me and made me watch while they came every night and bit Dimitar.”

“How did he manage to chain you? I've seen you fight. You can overpower half a dozen men. You can certainly take out a few vampires.”

Was it her imagination or did Jethro look slightly sheepish? “I was tricked. There was this girl and, well...it's a long story. Let's just say I wasn't concentrating.”

Vashti took a moment to assimilate what he was saying. “Oh. How did you escape?”

“Lorcan freed me, but it was too late for Dimitar. His transformation was complete by the time Lorcan arrived.”

“So he is one of them now?”

Jethro's eyes seemed darker than ever. “No. I couldn't let that happen to him. As a vampire, he'd have been Tibor's plaything for all eternity. That blood-sucking bastard would have made him pay daily for switching his allegiance.”

“What did you do?”

“I staked and decapitated him. Then Lorcan and I buried Dimitar in Tangiers before we left.”

It occurred to Vashti that she should say something comforting. That was what Stella would do. It seemed to be the mortal way. So she searched around for a form of words that sounded right. “That's what friends are for.”

Jethro's helpless laughter continued almost until they landed. When they left the plane they were in another airport, similar to the one they had departed from but larger and busier. Vashti moved surreptitiously closer to Jethro. “Does Tibor have you followed everywhere?”

“Pretty much. Although I'm honored this time. He doesn't usually send two.”

Sure enough, they had to wait in another line. It must be a mortal thing. “How do you stand it?”

Jethro shrugged. “At least, being a necromancer, I can spot a vampire easily. They are the undead. They can't sneak up on me. My other stalker poses more of a problem.”

“Iago?” The powerful sorcerer who was in league with Moncoya had sworn to kill Jethro, Lorcan, Cal and Stella in revenge for the death of Niniane, the Lady of the Lake, during the great battle for control of Otherworld.

“Yes. He's a sneaky little trickster. The guy thinks it's funny to take on different guises to keep his opponents guessing, and he's good at it. He could be anyone in this line. Or he could be the dog that snaps at my heels in the park, the seagull that shits on my head, the cop that gives me a ticket, the man-eating lion around the next corner... You get the picture.” He glanced around, lowering his voice so no one else could hear. “My necromancing powers don't work against him. I have to rely on brute strength, which is fine if he's in his own form, not so great if he decides to be a grizzly bear. And here in the mortal realm, I'm on my own. At least in Otherworld, we were four against one. Those are the kinds of odds we need against Iago.”

“You aren't on your own.” Jethro raised his brows in response to her words. “I'm here.”

“Does this mean I have a Valkyrie-trained faerie princess on my side?”

“No, it means I won't stand by and watch while you get killed.” They reached the desk and the conversation halted while Vashti produced the documents Cal had provided her with.

“Isn't that the same thing?” Jethro asked as they finally exited the vast building.

“If I observe while Iago kills you, you won't find the challenger. That's not the same as me being on your side. You haven't found yourself a new friend.”

“Funnily enough, I wasn't considering you as a replacement for Dimitar. While I might be glad of your help against Iago, I don't think you'd make great sidekick material.”

It was a good thing Jethro knew where he was going. The noise and bustle had increased to a whole new level. Vashti paused, looking around with a mixture of trepidation and wonder. “I'm not. You'll have to be the sidekick.”

Chapter 4

V
ashti looked from Jethro to the small aircraft and back again with an expression of disbelief. “
You
are going to fly this thing?”

After they had made their way out of the large airport building, Jethro had made his way through the crowds of people to a bus. This had taken them across the vast airport complex and deposited them on the other side. Trying not to show her confusion, Vashti had followed Jethro as he showed identification to a guard on a gate and then made his way onto an airfield.

He grinned. “Are you asking to see my pilot certification?”

“No, I'm walking away.”

Jethro shrugged, throwing his bag into the plane. “Seems a strange way to observe me—particularly since you don't know where I'm going—but, as I said, I'm not waiting around for you.”

Vashti bit her lip. The message was clear.
Go with him or be stranded.
“You really know how to do this?”

“I have over a thousand hours flying time and a commercial pilot's license.”

He swung into the cockpit. Swallowing her nervousness, Vashti walked around to the other side of the aircraft and clambered into the passenger seat. It was a cramped space. Behind the seats there was a small space, barely large enough to stow their bags. She watched Jethro's hands as they busied themselves checking the various instruments. They were strong, capable hands and she was about to place her life in them. “What does that mean?”

“It means if I wanted to, I could make my living as a pilot.”

“Wouldn't you need your own plane to do that?”

“This is my plane.” His glance flickered her way briefly. “One of them.”

Vashti studied his profile. The concentration on his face was absolute. She started to relax. “Maybe you should think about doing this instead of being a mercenary.”

“It doesn't pay as well.” One corner of his mouth lifted in a wry smile. “Although it would be a hell of a lot safer.” He held out a pair of headphones. “Put these on. Once the engines start, you'll need them. It gets noisy and the only way we can talk to each other will be through the microphones.”

After a few final checks, Jethro started the engines and the little craft juddered into life. Completely at home with the confusing array of controls, he steered it out onto the open runway, listening to the instructions in his earpiece.

“What are we waiting for?” Vashti frowned as they stopped.

“Our turn. We're in a queue.”

“Can't we go to the front anyway?”

“No, because we have a thing here called manners.”

She groaned and rolled her eyes. “I wish I was mortal so I could wait around in more lines.”

Jethro took his eyes off the runway long enough to cast a sidelong glance in her direction. “Just what I don't need when I'm trying to concentrate...a sarcastic faerie in my earpiece.”

They were moving forward again now, gaining pace rapidly, and Vashti forgot her impatience as the plane rose off the ground, wobbling from side to side as it seemed to struggle to find its balance. The airfield below them grew smaller and then the world tilted as Jethro banked the plane around to the right. Vashti fought the impulse to grab his arm and force him to bring it back so it was level again. The contrast between the jet they had traveled on earlier when there had been no sensation of movement and this plane that swayed and bobbed as it climbed higher into the blue sky could not have been more marked.

“How long will it take?” She was suddenly aware of feeling intensely tired. Perhaps it was as a result of not having slept for two nights. Or maybe it was the nerves caused by wondering if this fragile little craft was going to hurtle to the ground at any minute.

“It will depend on the wind, but it's not too bad today. Less than an hour.”

An hour of living on a knife edge of pressure.
I can cope with that.
And there were compensations. Being this close to Jethro wasn't the hardship she had always imagined it would be.
How have I gone from loathing physical contact to craving it in such a small space of time?
She studied her own slender, jeans-clad thigh as it bumped against the muscular length of Jethro's leg with the movement of the plane. But it wasn't just anyone she wanted in her personal space. It was
him
. The thought annoyed her as much as it thrilled her.
I don't even like this man, yet here I am hoping he'll tilt the plane again so I get thrown up against him! How pathetic is that?

Nevertheless, she took the opportunity to lean across him to ask questions about various landmarks, reveling in his warm breath on her cheek and his upper arm resting casually against her breast.
Having never been a schoolgirl, I didn't get the chance to have a schoolgirl crush. I'm making up for lost time with a vengeance.
Her body seemed to be suddenly awakening to a world of new possibilities. All of them directed toward the wrong man.

Vashti was starting to enjoy the soaring, swooping sensation of the flight when she felt a light touch on her shoulder. Swinging around with a sense of shock, she found herself face-to-face with the smug vampire who had followed them from Orkney. She recoiled in horror. There was no way he had been in the plane with them when they'd taken off.

“How the hell did you get in here?”

Her voice in the headphones alerted Jethro and he glanced quickly behind him. It took only a few seconds for them to reach the same conclusion. They spoke into their microphones at the same time. “Iago.”

Right first time.
Although they couldn't hear him above the sound of the engine, Iago mouthed the words. Silent laughter racked his body. The sorcerer was clearly enjoying himself at their expense.

Jethro's voice was a furious growl. “Tibor
didn't
send two vampires to follow me. The woman was my tail. This trickster bastard obviously tagged along then used his invisibility to sneak into the plane.” In time with Jethro's words, the vampire's features changed, shifting and becoming Iago's sharp-featured, black-bearded face. She would know that face anywhere. It was imprinted in her memory from the first time she'd met him when Moncoya had brought him to Spae before her father escaped imprisonment. Iago's green eyes gleamed with enjoyment.

“Leave this to me.” Vashti unbuckled her seat belt.

“Don't be so fucking—”

She didn't stick around to hear the rest of what Jethro had to say. Discarding her headphones, Vashti scrambled over the back of her seat. It was a tight squeeze and she landed in an undignified heap in Iago's lap. It wasn't the best way to intimidate someone, but it did have the element of surprise, particularly as Iago, without the benefit of headphones, hadn't been expecting her.

In one fluid movement she curled into a ball, gripping the sides of the rear seat on either side of Iago's thighs and bringing her knees up hard under his chin. The sorcerer's head jerked back and Vashti was willing to bet he saw stars. With grim satisfaction, she watched the smile disappear from his face.

The little aircraft rocked wildly from side to side as Jethro craned his neck to try to get a glimpse of what was going on behind him. Willing him to trust her and keep his attention on the plane, Vashti focused on her task. Iago had so many tricks at his disposal she had to neutralize him as quickly as she could. Not an easy feat in such a tight space. Since Moncoya had ensured his daughters were trained in every aspect of combat, Vashti was as comfortable wielding a samurai sword as she was in a boxing ring. Her instructor's words about being trapped in a confined space with a larger opponent came back to her now.
If you can't outrun him, go for the eyes first then the groin.

Launching herself at Iago with her thumbs extended, Vashti prepared to put her training into practice.

* * *

Jethro had flown planes in some tricky situations. There had been that one time he had been caught in a violent sandstorm over the Sahara. Or the other when he'd been forced to make an emergency landing on a deserted highway when the canopy flew off just after take-off. And who could forget the death-defying spiral he'd had to fight his way out of when his rudder pedal had jammed on his first solo flight? But trying to control a plane while a faerie princess and a sorcerer slugged it out behind him? It was new situation. Not one he had foreseen and certainly not one he relished.

The worst aspect was Jethro could neither see nor hear what was going on. All he got was an impression of bursts of activity and the occasional elbow or foot in the back of his neck. Scanning the ground below him for somewhere to land, he saw nothing suitable. Iago had timed his appearance to perfection. They were flying over a built-up area.

Jethro risked a glance over his shoulder and winced as Iago caught hold of Vashti from behind, with a hand around her throat. She responded by bringing her elbow up and jamming it into his windpipe. Iago quickly released her.

Trying desperately to keep his concentration on not killing them all by nose-diving into the ground, Jethro was jostled into almost losing his grip when Vashti tumbled onto the passenger seat next to him. Iago followed close behind, hurling himself on top of her.

Iago wasn't a big man and his skill came from his ability as a sorcerer rather than any physical strength. He was also a coward, known to flee from a situation when things got physical. Nevertheless, he outweighed Vashti and he wasn't allowing chivalry to stop him. Using his fists, he was systematically pounding any part of her he could reach.

Out of the corner of his eye Jethro saw Vashti trade blow for blow, giving as good as she got. He felt an oddly proprietorial sense of pride in her. That was until she opened the passenger door. At that point any pleasure he might have taken in her accomplishments turned into instant fury.

“What the hell are you doing?” She couldn't hear him, of course. A series of expletives aimed in Vashti's general direction burst from Jethro's lips anyway. Somehow it made him feel better.

A torrent of icy air rushed into the cabin. At the same time Vashti caught hold of Jethro's arm, turning his attention to her.
Hold me.
She mouthed the words at him.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Amorous encounters in midair might be an exciting proposition in some situations. Not this one.

Even though she still couldn't hear him, Vashti seemed to get the gist of that question. Shaking her head impatiently, she tugged at his arm again. Iago, doing what he did best, had given up on traditional methods and had begun to shift from human to animal form. Within seconds, in addition to the turbulent, swirling wind inside the cockpit, they had a snarling leopard. This would make a great story to recount to other pilots over a few beers. If he survived to tell it.

His teeth already chattering wildly with the cold, Jethro grabbed Vashti's upper body, hauling her close and pinning her to his side with one arm as he did his best to steer the plane with the other.

Catching Iago unawares before the sorcerer had fully shifted, Vashti clung to Jethro's arm as tightly as she could, using both feet to kick the snarling leopard toward the open passenger door. Predictably, the cat didn't go without a fight. Gripping Vashti's right calf with its claws, it was about to close its teeth on her ankle when she launched into another kick with her left foot. Pushing back against Jethro with all her strength, relying on him to keep hold of her, she caught the leopard full in the face. Releasing her with a guttural cry, there was nowhere for the cat to go except out the open door.

Another kick from Vashti sealed its fate. As he began to free fall from the plane, Iago shifted briefly back into his own form. Swiftly, he changed again, stretching out his arms to become a soaring eagle. For a moment or two he flew ahead of the plane, then, wheeling nonchalantly away, he took a different course and disappeared from view.

Moving out of Jethro's hold, Vashti slowly altered position until she was slumped in the passenger seat. Her movements were weary and uncoordinated.

Jethro wasn't sure if the change in her manner was caused by cold, shock or the injury the leopard had inflicted on her leg. The priority had to be to try to get that door shut so he could find out. It was not going to be an easy task. His hands were numb on the controls, his facial muscles stiff with the effects of the glacial temperature. The frigid air was turning his labored breath to vapor in front of him. He couldn't hear anything in his headphones and he doubted his own ability to speak coherently to air traffic control even if he was able to make contact. His brain was stubbornly refusing to process the information on the tracking system in front of him. There was no way he was capable of landing this bloody thing with neither his hands nor his brain working properly.

How long did they have in these conditions? Jethro had no idea. He was flying as low as he safely could. There was still nowhere to land. His pilot's training had covered a number of emergencies, but nothing like this. Stories of doors flying off or being deliberately damaged merged together in his befuddled mind. But his door was intact and still there. Flapping wildly, but firmly attached. He just had to find a way to get to it without letting go of the controls. If he could hook something around the door handle, maybe he could pull it closed. His whole life was a series of long shots. As shots went, this had to be one of the longest.

Tapping Vashti on the shoulder to get her attention, he mimed what he wanted her to do. She stared back at him with wide, uncomprehending eyes. He tried again. Something flickered into life behind the blue blankness of her eyes. The sidhe ring of fire began to blaze brighter. Her gaze dropped to his waist. Then, to his relief, she nodded.

At first it seemed Vashti's fingers wouldn't work as she tried to undo Jethro's belt. With painstaking slowness, she managed to get the buckle open. Jethro lifted his hips up from his seat so that she could slide the belt out through the loops of his jeans. More agonizing minutes ticked away while Vashti struggled to make a loop in the end of the belt. Once she was done, she nodded at Jethro.