29. JAX
JAX
Fifteen minutes later, the plane hadn’t crashed.
Then the phone rang.
I reached for it automatically. Madoc’s hand snapped out, catching my wrist. “Wait,” he said.
My brows shot up. “You want to make him sweat?”
Madoc’s answering smile was slow and cruel. “He needs to feel it.”
I grinned back at him. I couldn’t help it. Madoc in psychopath mode was something else. People thought it was his default, but I knew better. He wasn’t innately cruel; he was just fucking good at it.
The phone stopped ringing.
Not three seconds later, it started up again. Even the ringing sounded desperate.
“He’s panicking,” Madoc mused, his eyes dark. We were so close that I saw the glee beneath the apathetic mask. I’d bet my left nut he was hard as rock right now.
I almost asked. It was right there, on the tip of my tongue. We could die any minute. Fuck, we’d already nearly died at least a half dozen times since boarding the plane.
Unloading in Olivia’s mouth wasn’t enough. It scratched the itch, but it woke the beast.
The phone kept ringing.
On the fourth attempt, I finally turned and answered it gruffly: “You ready to talk?”
“I fucking warned you!” His voice was notably wheezier.
My shoulder hit the wall. I said nothing. Madoc watched me, drinking in my expressions. I grabbed his shirt and dragged him closer, then propped the phone between us. I ignored the rush of heat that shot through me at the proximity.
By now, I’d come to accept that I had…inappropriate responses to stress.
“Don’t you ignore me!”
“You’re not listening,” I said calmly. His breath rattled. “You can still survive this. Come out, and we’ll patch you up. I know a guy who’s good with stitches.”
Madoc smirked.
“No,” he snapped. He coughed, and it took him a whole minute to recover. In a raspier voice, he growled: “I’m not scared to die. There are far worse things than death.”
Madoc tilted his head, his eyes drilling into mine. “Dr Z,” I said, filling in the blanks. “I’m not fucking scared of him.”
The snake laughed wetly. “He is not the one I’m referring to.”
What the hell did that mean? The Vipers only had one master. They were Dr. Z’s prized killers.
“Then who are you talking about?” I demanded. “Speak plainly, snake. No more fucking riddles.”
“Give me what I want, and hopefully you’ll never find out.”
I shifted, the pain in my ribs flaring up hot.
Too many stab wounds, too many fucking hoops.
I was done. “Listen. You got, what? An hour? Maybe two if you get to a hospital. Your best chance is to land the plane. Do that, and my trigger-happy executioner here won’t rip out your spleen and force you to eat it. ”
Madoc’s mouth pressed flat. His equivalent of a pout. He was itching to draw blood.
The snake fell silent.
His breath rattled.
“No,” he eventually snarled. “No, no, no. You will give me what I want.”
His desperation was peaking. We were walking a fine line. The trick was to push him far enough. No more options. No other way out.
Part of me wanted to hear him beg. I also had a cruel streak. I wanted him to suffer.
Madoc’s mouth curled up at whatever dumb expression I had on my face. Usually, I relied on him to do the torturing, but that didn’t mean I didn’t like to watch.
Hell, apparently, we both liked to watch.
“Here’s my final offer,” I said. “You come out of your little hole, toss the gun, and I’ll give you a first aid kit. I won’t snap your slithery neck. You can take your parachute and fuck off.”
He rattled. Coughed.
Madoc made a circling motion with his finger.
I nodded, grinning again. “Just so we’re on the same page. You won’t be taking the girl or the prototype. You touch her, you attempt anything fucking stupid, I’ll beat you to death.”
At the next rattling silence, I decided to bring it home. Enough foreplay. “You have ten minutes to step out.”
“You dare—”
“Whoops. Now you have five minutes. Otherwise, no kit. You bleed out. And we all go up in flames.”
I hung up just as he spluttered again. The phone immediately rang, but I answered it only to slam it back in the bracket.
It went silent after that.
“Cocky,” Madoc remarked drily.
He was right. I was cocky. Enough that I considered kissing him just to wipe that smug look off his face. So few things surprised him. Even less interested him.
Now probably wasn’t the best time.
I sagged against the wall again. I was severely dehydrated, and probably had internal bleeding somewhere. But it felt good to have a win.
My stomach growled. Jesus, I was also starving. An appetite was a good sign.
I pushed off from the wall. “Come on,” I said, heading toward the cabin. “Let’s steal some snacks while we wait for him to bend over.”
I froze, a half-step into premium economy. Shit. I’d forgotten about the stupid lockdown.
Fifty heads swiveled toward us. The uptight flight attendant, Marcus, gave us a harried look as he juggled complimentary neck pillows.
“Sirs,” he stressed, swooping toward us. “The captain has initiated a full lockdown. Please return to your seats at once. We cannot—”
A voice crackled over the plane’s intercom, cutting him off.
“Ladies and gentlemen. I have an announcement.”
What. The. Fuck.
“As of thirty minutes ago, I took control of this aircraft. This is not a drill. This is not a test.”
I turned to Madoc, who wasn’t blinking. Neither of us was fucking blinking.
“Rest assured, none of you have to die today. Whether you reunite with your loved ones depends entirely on what you do in the next five minutes.”
A sharp cry of alarm rang through the cabin. “Is this a joke!?” A man’s voice bellowed.
No. It wasn’t a fucking joke.
The snake was calling in the cavalry.
Cold sweat prickled over my skin. Every cut on my body burned, exposed and raw.
I watched as faces paled and twisted in horror. Marcus dropped his neck pillows and stumbled back, cupping his mouth.
The cabin fell silent except for the low, mechanical hum of the engines.
“You all have a choice,” the Viper went on. “Your lives, in exchange for one.”
Madoc’s hand latched onto my wrist. Cold as iron. I jumped, so tense that I could snap.
We needed to move.
“Walk, don’t run,” I muttered to him.
Fifty pairs of eyes were honed in on us. Wide, terrified. Desperate.
Slowly, carefully, we started down the aisle.
The intercom crackled again.
“There is an imposter among you. She wears the uniform of a flight attendant named Emily. She is a dangerous woman. I want her delivered to the cockpit.”
My jaw clenched. That sneaky fucker! I resisted the urge to tear through the plane, knowing it would start a panic.
But the panic was already building. It hovered just on the edge. One wrong move and it would tip.
“If anyone refuses, hides her, or interferes in any way, the consequences will belong to all of you. You have five minutes to deliver her to me. Is one life worth all of yours?”
Madoc’s finger jabbed hard into my spine.
The message was clear.
Run.