"He didn't show up because he was murdered today." Valentin glanced at the copilot, a friendly man named Fisher, with whom he had flown several times. The copilot didn't look back at him or comment on Speicher's untimely death. He sat with his head cocked to one side, staring out at the night. "Fisher? Are you sleeping?"

The copilot didn't move or reply.

Valentin walked up and shook his shoulder, and watched the copilot slowly fall forward in his harness, his neck at an unnatural angle.

He turned to the pilot and grabbed him by the throat. "Did you kill him?"

The frightened man's face turned red as he choked out, "Yes… broke… his… neck."

"Why?"

"Interfered." Pale brown eyes bulged. "Passed… approach… point… to… Atlanta."

"Why are you hijacking my plane?" he snarled, his dents acérées emerging to gleam long and sharp and white in his mouth.

"The girl… must… die."

"What?" Astonished. Valentin released the pilot, who wheezed in air as he fumbled with his harness. "You mean to kill Liling Harper?"

"The girl must die." The pilot coughed, doubling over, and then straightened suddenly, producing a pistol and pointing it at Jaus. "After I kill you."

Chapter 9

Liling woke as soon as Jaus slipped out of bed, but turned on her side and pretended to be asleep until he left the compartment. She needed time to prepare, to come up with some sort of explanation for throwing herself at him the way she had, and for what she had done to him while he was asleep.

She didn't know if her taking his pain had restored any function to his arm. She had never attempted such a taking, and the type of pain he suffered was not something a doctor could detect. If she had been successful, he would hardly expect her to take credit for it.

The unusual sex would not be as easy to explain away.

Who am I kidding? I loved it. I'm not sorry. I should thank the man for ruining every sexual fantasy I've ever had. Reality is so much better.

What they had done together had been outrageous and vivid and undeniable. Nothing in her experience compared to it. She still couldn't quite believe it had happened to her.

What will he think of me now?

Liling's body ached pleasantly as she inched off the bed and searched the floor for her clothes. She found her jeans and panties wadded up in a ball in one corner, and her shirt tangled up in the sheets. It wasn't until she looked down that she found her bra, still fastened and twisted around her waist.

God, she hadn't even been fully undressed.

She pulled it around and tugged the straps up over her arms. A sore spot made her wince; she felt it with her fingers and found two small puncture wounds in the curve between her shoulder and neck.

She vaguely remembered Valentin biting her, but not hard enough to break the skin. Had she bitten him back? She ran the tip of her tongue over her lips, which felt tender and slightly swollen, but didn't taste blood. She tasted man.

He was not the only one who might be changed by this night. She'd gone into the dark mirror with him, and come out a different woman. She felt no shame, no regret. She'd loved him, and it had been better than any of her lonely, pathetic little fantasies.

Now there was only sorrow that it was over, and that there could be nothing more between them. Even if he wanted to be with her again, she had to protect him. It wasn't only her life that was in danger; the priests wouldn't hesitate to hurt or kill Valentin to get to her.

He would forget her, and she would never see him again. That was how it had to be.

She still had a few minutes before the plane landed, and she was not going to spend them hiding from him. Her head throbbed painfully—a remnant of the taking, perhaps, although it had never had that effect on her before tonight. Liling dressed and went into the small bathroom adjoining the compartment to wash her face.

As the water ran over her hands, she stared at it. Her ears felt hollow with the absence of the bells. Each time she washed or dressed or ate, a part of her felt wrong because there were no bells signaling that it was time to do such things. The priests had trained her and all the other children to respond to them like dogs, so they wouldn't have to speak to them or be present to supervise their activities.

She hated the sound of bells, and still, she listened for them.

The pain throbbing in her temples made her look in the cabinets for a bottle of ibuprofen. She instead found several lipsticks, hairbrushes, and small bottles of perfume. All of them had been used.

The jealousy withering her heart surprised her. She wasn't the first woman he'd had on the plane, and she wouldn't be the last. Valentin was an extremely sensual man; he had a bedroom built into the back of his plane. Naturally he'd use it for something more than simply sleeping.

Idly she took out one of the bottles, a wildly expensive French perfume she could never have afforded, and uncapped it to take a sniff. The heavy floral scent had an unpleasant soapy undertone to it from the chemicals and agents used to boost the perfume's intensity. Why women felt the need to spray themselves with such odors to feel beautiful confused Liling. Certainly no garden ever smelled as vile as the perfumes created to mimic them.

She carefully replaced the bottle of perfume and closed the cabinet. If Jaus preferred women who wore French perfume and expensive makeup, then it was a good thing that she would have only this one night with him. She'd bore him to death in a week.

And she'd never again meet another man like him; she knew that. It had nothing to do with his wealth, his power, or the tragedy that had stolen the use of his arm from him. He wasn't like other men; in some fundamental way that defied explanation, he was much more. In a sense most men were as simple to understand as a page from an open book. They wanted attention and pleasure and gratification; they needed ways to channel their basic aggressions.

Liling knew from the taking that was not the case with Valentin Jaus. The depths inside him had felt like some well-guarded, secret library she would never be permitted to enter. Even when the lust had overtaken them and she had surrendered herself, he had been holding something back. Not to deceive her, but to protect her.

If only she didn't have to run. If only she could be like other women. But she could not let the priests capture her again.

Liling went out to the main cabin, ready to see him and talk with him, and perhaps even give him one last kiss before they parted. She could be as civilized about this as he was, and leave him without regret.

No regret he can see, she amended silently. She had a feeling that emotionally she was going to pay for this night for a long, long time.

The cabin was empty. Liling heard Valentin's and another man's voices coming from the front of the plane, and slowly walked up to the open door leading to the cockpit.

"… can't fire that in here." Valentin was saying, his voice cold. "Hand it to me now and I will not harm you. I give you my word."

The pilot laughed. "The word of the maledicti means nothing."

Liling came up just behind Jaus before she saw the gun in the pilot's hand, and froze. The pilot was going to shoot Valentin.

The scent of camellias became smothering.

"Give it to me." Jaus repeated, holding out his hand.

The other man trembled all over, and then slammed his list into his thigh. "The girl must die." He shouted something else in a strange language as he shoved a handle down.

The plane tilted sharply forward and began to hurtle down in a steep dive.

"God does not want your death." Valentin told him.

"No," the pilot said, his face contorted with pain. "He wants hers, and yours." He fired.

Valentin didn't move, but a sharp pain made Liling stagger backward. She grabbed an overhead handle and then screamed as the pilot reversed the gun, put the end in his mouth, and pulled the trigger.

The top of the pilot's head exploded, sending a horrific splash of blood and gore all over the window behind him.

Liling's fingers and legs went numb, and she found herself on the floor. She felt something wet and tried to straighten out her leg, then curled over with a sharp cry as the pain hit her. She pressed her hand to the hole in her shirt over her ribs and pulled it back soaked with blood.

"Stay there, Liling."

Valentin pulled the dead pilot's body out of the seat and took his place. He adjusted some of the controls, and the plane leveled out of the terrifying dive.

Liling panted and pressed her arm against the bleeding wound in her side. Somehow she had gotten shot; the bullet had missed Jaus. She watched through a haze of pain as Jaus moved the body of the pilot into a storage space behind the seat. He did the same with the copilot, who also hung limp and unmoving, his head flopping. Dread filled her as she glanced at the empty seats in front of the controls.

With both the pilot and the copilot dead, there was no one to land the plane.

"Liling." Valentin lifted her into his arms and carried her to the copilot's seat. "I have put the plane on autopilot." He looked at the blood on his sleeve and pulled up her shin, staring at the wound. "Mein Gott, the bullet hit you."

She swallowed and touched the bullet hole in his jacket over his heart. "I thought he only fired one shot."

"He did. It passed through my… jacket and struck you." He took off the jacket, folded it, and wrapped it around her torso. "I know it hurts, but you must be brave a little longer for me."

"Valentin." She clutched his arm. "Are they both dead?" He nodded. "Do you know how to land the plane?"

"I have watched the pilots do it several times. I will call for help on the radio." He bent over and kissed her. "Whatever happens, I will land this plane."

He put the copilot's seat harness over her and tightened it over her abdomen before he went back to the pilot's chair. There he put on the headset, checked the instruments, and flipped some switches. He took the headset off again and looked out into the night before he turned to her.




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