Chapter Twenty-Five Seraphina
Chapter Twenty-Five
Seraphina
In the air
I closed my eyes and prayed. Because damn. As of ten minutes ago, I’d unlocked a new fear: flying in small planes on a cloudy, windy day.
This was my first time in a plane where I could see our pilot, too. I didn’t find that comforting at all. Way too many buttons and switches in my line of sight.
“Don’t worry, we have enough chutes if we need to jump.” I had no clue if Alex was making a joke, but I couldn’t open my eyes to get a read on him.
We hit another air pocket—or whatever the technical term was for them—on our way up, and my stomach dropped yet again as we were jostled around in this toylike plane. Was this thing actually meant for jumping out of, not landing? Hell, maybe it is?
Working up the nerve, I pried open my eyes to check the window to see if we’d yet to puncture through the cloudy sky.
Nope. Since my favorite distraction wasn’t sitting next to me, I shut my eyes and tried to think about something else.
Of course my thoughts landed back on the flying death trap in the sky. The ride was courtesy of this Carter guy, but maybe flying commercial would’ve been safer, even if we ran the risk of Ezra tracking the flight.
I’d been in the middle of texting Martín about the change in plans when Ryder had returned to the living room after making his call to Carter in private. He’d let us know Carter would secure safe passage for us. But if this was Carter’s definition of safe , then what was unsafe in his eyes?
Ryder had also shared the news that Carter would set us up with transport, weapons, and a place to stay upon arrival. Who was this guy? Batman?
And it didn’t stop there.
The gifts kept on gifting.
Our mystery man—well, not a mystery to Ryder or Martín—would also work on finding a crew to send us for backup should we need an assist once in San José.
Apparently, Batman was busy doing other hero-things and couldn’t come himself.
It was almost too bad; I’d love to meet the man who could whip up Black Hawks out of thin air.
(Did I mention he’d have one of those for us, too? Because, yup, apparently).
I’d been in a rush to change and pack, worried Ryder would switch to his default setting of overprotective and refuse to let me come, so I forgot to finish my texting conversation I’d been in the middle of with Martín. He’d called me on my way to the airport, so I filled him in then.
Martín promised I was in good hands if Carter was arranging everything for us in Costa Rica, and he agreed it was better for me to go with Ryder than stay behind, but he hated not being able to come and help. I’d keep in touch with him, updating him once we were there.
I was still in awe of how fast everything had been thrown together, not even two hours after the text from ángel. Plan C was now in action, which was kind of perfect, given Batman’s help and his real name began with a C.
Fate. Everything is happening as ordained. I had a feeling my parents and brother were looking out for me. Sending whoever and whatever I needed my way, especially Ryder. I chose to believe that, at least. And that means we’ll survive this flight. I didn’t make it this far to die in a plane crash.
A former Navy Seal held our lives in his hands right now. Owen York happened to be on vacation with his family not far from us in Mexico, so Carter called him for the favor. Carter had even wrangled this not-so-lovely private plane for us to use.
Just like that. Done deal. All good to go.
Owen’s family stayed back at their resort, so I didn’t have a chance to meet them, but maybe one day I could thank his wife for lending us her husband on short notice.
I kept telling myself, though, that we were safe with a Seal in the pilot’s seat. But also, since when did Navy Seal s fly planes?
At another hard bump that knocked us around, I squeezed my chair’s arms even tighter, gritting down on my back teeth.
Alex patted the top of my hand, which did nothing to ease my nerves.
Ryder had asked him to sit next to me when we’d boarded, continuing to honor the request I was currently regretting—to keep some distance between us.
I should’ve asked for a pause in that plan, postponing the start time until after I felt the ground beneath my shoes again. Because I really needed Ryder next to me.
“We’re good,” Alex promised. “No sweat.”
“Allll the sweat,” I cried out, my voice embarrassingly squeaking. “Can someone distract me?”
“You should open your eyes. You’re missing the view.” Alex nudged me in the side. “There’s a volcano out the window.”
“Just tell me about it instead,” I whispered, barely opening my mouth to speak.
Seriously, how had I survived working for Ezra all that time, and now a small plane was what put my heart into overdrive the most?
Well, second to Ryder. That man seemed to have rewired my entire existence altogether, especially my heart’s rhythm.
“Reed probably knows something about volcanoes,” Alex prompted, while I worked to steady my breathing.
“A thing or two,” Reed mumbled.
I gulped. “Anything about the ones down there?”
“There’s a legend about them, yeah. An Aztec story.” Reed was sitting next to Ryder behind us in the four-seater plane, so his voice was close.
Alex laughed. “I swear, the man knows more about the dead than the living.”
“You want a story or not?” Reed shot back.
“Yes, please,” I said before Alex could piss him off.
“Fine.” Reed was quiet for a moment, and I hoped that meant he hadn’t changed his mind.
A few seconds later, he finally shared, “The story is about a princess who fell in love with a warrior, but she died from grief when she was told he was killed in battle. When Popocatépetl returned home and discovered the woman he loved was dead, he carried her to a mountain, lit a torch, and stayed with her there to watch over her forever. Whenever the volcano erupts, legend says it’s Popocatépetl remembering the woman he loves. ”
“Fucking A, man. Don’t ever do story hour for kids or something.
That was depressing as fuck,” Alex said with a laugh.
“And how the hell do you know that? I was expecting some scientific bullshit from you.” I could feel him twisting around, probably looking back at Reed.
“But a princess?” He chuckled again. “You need to get laid, I swear.”
Reed didn’t respond, but these two had managed to accomplish one thing with their joking: calming me down. “Thank you. I do feel better now.”
“So you going to open your eyes?” Alex asked me, but I kept them squeezed shut and shook my head.
“I don’t feel that much better.”
“Let the bumps put you to sleep instead of make you nervous,” he suggested. “I have a feeling we’ve got a long day ahead of us, so rest while you can.”
“Is that an order?” I teased.
Alex didn’t answer, and when a hand gently gripped my arm, I went still at the prickle of awareness that it was Ryder, reaching between the seats to touch me.
He had to be leaning forward, because I felt his breath by my ear, and my body responded, erupting in chills.
“Do what he says.” He kept hold of me and, in a much huskier voice, murmured into my ear, “And that’s an order from me .”