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Raising Innocence: A Rylee Adamson Novel(19)

By:Shannon Mayer

Smart, but it made me wonder just how safe their crappy plane actually was. I paced my small area, the circle of my steps tightening with each round until I was back at my seat.
Eve had offered to fly to London, but I’d turned her down. Since it would take her at least a week, hopping from island to island across the Pacific Ocean then flying up the coast of Africa, or even if she went up the east coast through Canada and across Greenland, I told her to go back to Eagle and her training. The reality was if she couldn’t come with us, by the time she got to London, everything would be done. Alex and I would be on our own on this run. My mind shifted to Giselle and my heart clenched with sorrow.
Not yet.
Though Eve had argued half-heartedly, I could see by the glimmer in her eyes she was excited to go back to the Guardian and his training with her.
Alex hadn’t moved from his spot beside me, his claws carefully lifting the shade on the window up and down; like he was hypnotized. Which was not a bad thing after waking up to him howling Giselle’s name every hour the night before.
I leaned back in the chair and scrubbed at my over-tired eyes, listening to the voices floating back to me. I couldn’t hear what they were saying.
Hmm. But Alex could.
I tapped him on the shoulder and he rolled his head upside down to look at me. “Alex, what are they saying?” I pointed to the front of the plane.
He tipped his head, then lifted one floppy ear with the tips of two claws to hear better.
I had to smother a laugh, and once more, I was grateful he was with me.
“Parachutes. And plane crash,” he said, tongue flicking out to dangle in front of his nose.
My gut tightened and I no longer thought this trip was a 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.