Blackwing Dragon (Harper's Mountains 5) (3 page)

“Do you want to take a selfie with me?” she asked politely.

“No.”

“I’m getting a mimosa.” Rowan craned her neck, but Nancy had disappeared.

“Probably not. Those are for first class.”

“Nancy said she would bring me one, and I trust her. She has nice eyes.” Rowan arched her eyebrows primly at his sunglasses.

Tall Dark and Mysterious scooted farther away from her and gave his attention to the runway again. Boring view, but okay.

Aunt Willa would freak out if Rowan sent her a picture of this guy. For years they’d played “I spy the hottest guy” but the pool was limited since neither one of them liked to leave Saratoga. Uncle Matt thought it was funny and even sent occasional pictures of guys for the contest. They were usually shaped like bath sponges and had armpit-stains, but probably Uncle Matt just didn’t understand how the game was played.

The engines turned on, and the plane started moving. This was really happening. Panicking, she buckled her seatbelt and gripped the edges of the armrest as she panted loudly like an overheated German Shepherd.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the man toss her a look, but whatever helped her get through this, she was gonna do it.

“Miss, are you okay?” a kind lady across the aisle asked. “Do you need a barf bag?”

“This is my first time. This is my first time,” she chanted as the plane made a wide turn. They weren’t even going fast but inside, her dragon was writhing and uncoiling in anticipation. She apparently didn’t like to give up control when they flew.
Don’t Change!

“Lady, settle the fuck down,” he muttered beside her. “It’s just flying.”

“The second you fall asleep, I’m going to take a picture of you.” Shit.
Stop panic-talking.

“I’m not going to sleep then. Do you want to sit by the window?”

“Does it help?” Too loud!

“Shhhhh!” the grumpy human across the aisle said.

“I’ve literally had bigger shits than you,” Rowan told him. In dragon form. The guy looked grossed out, but beside her, Tall Dark and Mysterious snorted.

The plane was going faster, and where the hell was Nancy with the mimosa? Rowan had trusted her. Trusted her with everything she had, and Nancy With The Kind Eyes And The Pretty Promises was failing her.

Rowan was breathing too loud now, and the rhythmic moaning sound that was filling the plane, she was mortified to realize, was coming from her.

“Jesus,” he cursed, yanking her from the seat and into his. He stepped over her, lost his balance, and before she could stop herself, Rowan squeezed his tight little ass to try to help him stay upright. It was as firm as steel and round like a ripe apple, and she wished he wasn’t swatting her hand away.

“Lady, stop it,” he gritted out, clenching her wrists. He sat heavily in her old seat. Oh, he was a lot stronger than she’d imagined. That man could probably fondle the hell out of a dragon shifter boob. “Stop groaning. You sound insane, and you’re scaring people.”

The plane picked up speed, plastering her back against the seat, and outside the window, the runway was blurring past them.

“You said the window seat would be better!” she shrieked.

He hunched his shoulders as though the pitch of her voice had hurt his ears and clamped his hand over her mouth. In self-defense, she licked his hand and immediately regretted it. Squeezing his butt was one thing, but licking was taking it too far.

Especially since he gritted out in a terrifyingly deep voice, “That’s enough, Bloodrunner.”

Rowan froze, her tongue against his palm. Slowly, she retracted it and pursed her lips.

Finally, the plane leveled out, and the seatbelt sign overhead made a pretty
ding
sound.

“Mimosas,” Nancy said from behind him.

Carefully, he removed his hand from Rowan’s face and reached for the flutes of orange juice and champagne. Nancy gave him a wide-eyed smile that said, “good luck with this one,” and made her way back to the front.

He handed her both drinks, but she shook her head and only took one. “That one is for you.”

“I don’t drink this shit,” he murmured.

“We can pretend we are sitting in first class and take a selfie,” she suggested.

He inhaled long and deep, then sighed it out like he was controlling his anger. “Fine.”

Terror forgotten, Rowan grinned brightly and lifted her phone in front of them. With a pretty
tink
of their glasses, she snapped the picture. In it, she was resting her head on his shoulder with the happiest smile, but he was nestled deep in his hoodie and looked like he hated everything about his life. That just added to his sexiness. For reasons beyond her understanding, Rowan had a brand new thing for dark and broody, tatted up and moody.

She sipped her fancy drink with her pinky up. “I’m Rowan.”

“I know,” he muttered.

“How did you know I was a Bloodrunner Dragon?”

He took his mimosa like a shot. “Your eyes give you away, princess.”

She grimaced at the nickname. “My friends call me Roe.”

“We aren’t friends. I’ll stick with princess.”

“Fine. What do people call you?”

He stared at the seat in front of him. He couldn’t ignore her the entire plane ride, though, so she leaned her elbow on the seat, rested her chin in her palm, and waited. Tall Dark and Mysterious shook his head and gritted his jaw so hard a muscle twitched there.

“Kane.” He cast her a quick glance, then lowered his voice. “People call me Dark Kane.”

“Oooh, sexy.”

“Not sexy. I hate it.” He was untangling his headphones now, and she could see the shutdown coming from a mile away.

“What’s your favorite thing about flying?”

Kane cast a long glance past her to the sky. “Sitting by the window.”

Rowan frowned. And he’d given up his window seat for her? “Why?”

Kane made a
tick
behind his teeth and pushed the earbuds into his ears. And right before he turned up the volume and drowned her out completely, he said, “Because it makes me feel like I’m flying.”

Kane hid his smile as Rowan Barnett told everyone around her goodbye—individually. She’d successfully driven everyone sitting around them on the second plane insane with her nervous ramblings.

Especially him.

Nah, that was a lie. Kane found her amusing as hell, and a great distraction from the long plane rides. Since he couldn’t fall asleep at the risk of her taking more damned pictures, he had eventually turned down the volume on his music and listened to her unload a fireworks show of life stories.

She’d panicked again when they’d switched onto the small prop plane in Charlotte, North Carolina, and surprise surprise, they happened to be sitting right next to each other again. He smelled a rat, and that rat was a fire-breathing Bloodrunner Dragon named Damon Daye.

“I’m sorry I touched your ass and licked your hand on our first flight,” Rowan said from behind him, way too damn close. Normally, he liked a lot of personal space, but his instinct wasn’t even to run right now. He blamed that on the amount of time he’d spent beside her today.
Right
beside her since she’d fallen asleep on his shoulder for the last short flight. Didn’t even try to use the window, just plopped her cheek onto him and announced, “I’m tired, night night.”

Kane cleared his throat gruffly. “It’s fine.”

“So you forgive me for freaking out? Sorry ma’am. I didn’t mean to get you. Oh! I’m making it worse. Sorry.” Rowan was wrestling with her carry-on bag, which was eye-scorching pink like her ripped-up shirt. She’d turned the damn thing into a weapon and was pinball-whacking everyone around her.

To save her from yet another verbal lashing, and to save the other passengers from concussions, Kane turned and yanked the bag from her grip. “I’ve got it.”

“Gentleman!” she exclaimed with a boner-inducing smile.

Kane snorted and looked straight ahead, shaking his head for the fiftieth time since he’d gotten on the plane. No one had ever accused him of being a gentleman. This lady was a trip.

Why was the line going so damn slow? These people needed to hurry up and get off the fuckin’ plane already.

As much as she seemed harmless, Rowan housed one of the biggest dragons left on earth. It made his hair lift on the back of his neck to have her behind him. Even bubbly, she made the air like cement in his lungs. The humans probably didn’t even know they were in the presence of a monster. That’s what she was. He’d seen it in her eyes when she was having that panic attack. They’d turned the color of melted gold, and her pupils had elongated like a snake’s. And she’d smelled of smoke and death.

Whatever she was doing in Asheville, he didn’t like it. Rival dragons in his territory didn’t bode well for him. Any blood relative of Damon Daye was a direct threat to Kane. Rowan could very well be the end of him.

He moved off the plane with the crowd and handed her bag back. God, what an awful color. He couldn’t even look at it. Rowan walked beside him, practically bouncing with every step, which was really distracting because she was wearing a non-padded strappy sports bra under the ripped-up tank top, and her tits were bouncing. He could be fucking mesmerized by them if he didn’t keep his head. His big one. His smaller head was apparently already devoted to her and getting harder by the minute. He needed to get away from her, and fast.

“Have a nice life, Bloodrunner,” he muttered, ticking his lips up in a quick, empty smile for her.

Rowan shouldered her bag and kept in step with him. “So do you live in Asheville?”

Kane sighed and squeezed his eyes closed so he would stop staring at her tits. “What?”

“Asheville. Do you live here? It’s a really small airport, way smaller than the other one. How do we get our bags? I have to get my suitcase as fast as possible. Guess why.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Just guess! It’ll be fun.”

“Woman, I’m tired and ready to get on the road, and I don’t want to play whatever game you’re running.” Plus, his boner was getting worse, and people were going to be able to tell soon. He adjusted his hoodie over his dick and walked faster.

Rowan had the legs of a fuckin’ gazelle, though, and sped up right along with him. He growled and rounded on her. “Are you here to kill me?”

Rowan ran into him. “Shit, Kane, you can’t stop that fast in front of me. I’m clumsy as—wait, what? Why would I kill you?”

“Did Damon send you?”

Now she looked baffled. And beautiful. She was tall and blond, just his fucking type. Her hair was piled up on her head in a messy bun, and her cheeks were freckled. She wasn’t a stick either. She had those fuck-me curves, soft tits, and an ass that would feel just right in his hands. Big blue eyes, pixie lips, and her lashes were dark. Hell, if she was some human tailing him, he’d have taken her in the bathroom and had her panting his name in no time. But she was Rowan Barnett. She was untouchable. She was a quick death by fire.

She was his assassin.

“Look, it’s too big a coincidence that you sit in the seats right next to me on both planes from Damon’s territory to Asheville. Out of all the flights in the entire world, you land on mine? No. Why the fuck are you so intent on talking to me? On getting closer? On asking me questions and taking pictures?”

Her sandy blond brows had lowered the more he talked, as if his words were hurting her, but she was a dragon. She wasn’t this ditzy, bubbly shell she pretended to be. It was cute as hell, but that was the lure, right?

“I don’t understand. Do you know Damon?”

Kane huffed a humorless laugh and strode off. He wasn’t going to listen to bullshit. Whatever she was getting at, he wasn’t playing.

“You’re being really mean.” Rowan sounded confused, but at least she didn’t sound right in his ear anymore. At least she was backing off.

He needed that because, right now, his chest and head were buzzing with some strange sensation that made everything blurry. It was like anger, distrust, want, hope, despair, and desperation all rolled into one, and for what? She would be out of his life in twenty minutes. All he had to do was grab his suitcase and leave her ass here to do whatever she was going to do in this territory.

His fucking leg hurt. It was that bone deep burn that wouldn’t go away, but it was always worse after sitting down for a long time. Rowan was probably watching him, and he hated that. Hated that she was witnessing how weak he was, and he couldn’t do a goddamned thing about it. Everybody stared. He wished he could stop limping, but it was impossible. He’d done the physical therapy.

This was as good as he got.

Kane pulled the hood of his sweatshirt farther over his head and ducked his chin to his chest so he could avoid the hell out of the stares as he made his way to baggage claim. When the chills lifted on the back of his neck again, Kane turned suspiciously. Rowan was following him at a distance, her chin tucked, her neck exposed. Those fucking gorgeous baby blues looked all sad and made him want to…want to…fix…something.

“I’m not trying to stalk you. I just don’t know where to go,” Rowan called, slowing even more.

Kane turned back around and did his best to ignore the instinct to duck out the side door and forget about his luggage.

He didn’t understand her. He knew the facts—Rowan Barnett, age twenty-five, the only daughter of the Gray Back alpha, Creed, and his mate Gia. Beast Bloodrunner dragon, as big as Damon’s monster, and a fire-breather and lava-spewer to boot. She was one of the last great beasts of the skies. Went to school in Damon’s Mountains, didn’t go to college, never moved away from her crew. That was all he’d been able to dig up when he was familiarizing himself with his enemies. She’d stayed at the heart of Damon’s Mountains her entire life, and now she was here, in his territory, making no damned sense. The titan she hid shouldn’t be caged by this bubbly, submissive personality. It had to be a lie. She was an actress and deserved a standing ovation.

There was a hundred percent chance she was sent by Damon to gather info on him, or outright kill him. Maybe it was because he was of breeding age now. He could spread Blackwing dragon genetics. Maybe. He didn’t know. Damon didn’t understand Kane wasn’t a threat to him or anyone else. Not anymore.

He wouldn’t risk putting The Darkness in a kid, and besides…he wasn’t the kind to pair up. His life was a disaster, and he was an asshole, but he still had his head on straight enough. He wouldn’t ever hurt a woman by tethering her to him. He was doing the world a favor by staying alone, so why was Damon threatened now?

And why the fuck had Damon Daye sent Rowan to hunt him?

He’d been sharing territory with Harper Keller for months and hadn’t ever posed a threat, but then Rowan ends up in the seat next to him? No. This reeked of Damon intervention. Fate was a lie, and Rowan crashing into his life like a giant blinding meteor didn’t happen without help.

Kane was being set up.

He waited for his suitcase on the opposite side of the baggage claim from Rowan. It took forever. Almost everyone had picked up their luggage and gone by the time his came out. God, he had to piss. He was so tempted to hold it, but it was a long-ass drive from Asheville to Bryson City.

Rowan was still waiting, the last one here, looking panicked. As Kane made his way to the restroom, he could hear her voice echoing after him as she asked someone if there were any more bags coming.

Not his problem, not his concern. The last damsel in distress he had tried to help, his entire life had been ruined.

But when he got out, Rowan was still at the baggage claim, and now she was crying. She lifted her eyes up to him hopefully, but he ripped his gaze away from her. He wasn’t falling for this shit. He gave a two fingered wave and strode out the exit. But as he walked along the wall of windows toward the parking lot, Rowan didn’t look like someone who was playing damsel. She broke down. Just…shoulders shaking, sobbing, looking around for help, but it was late, and that was the last flight, and no one was in this part of the airport.

She’d told him to guess what was in her suitcase, and now a sick feeling unfurled in his gut.

He stopped in front of the window and just watched her. Again and again, she checked the mouth of the baggage claim, but the lights flashed twice, and the track stopped turning.

Kane let off an explosive sigh and glared at the parking lot. He was so damn close to freedom. Shaking his head again, he limped back inside. “What’s in the case?” he asked her.

Rowan sniffed and spun around, and damn, the look on her face gutted him. He’d never seen someone look so scared. Not since Jeremy Jacob. Bile crept up the back of his throat just thinking about the kid.

Two more tears streamed down her cheeks as she stammered, “M-my treasure is in one of my suitcases.”

“Shit.”

“I have to have it. I’ll get sick without it. The Sickening. I have to have it. I need it or I’ll die.” She sounded utterly panicked, and he got it. He’d seen Harper Keller when she was still undergoing The Sickening before she found her treasure. She’d smelled like blood and death. Just the thought of Rowan suffering the same slashed an unexpected pain through his chest.

“Come on. There will be someone working up front still. We’ll see where it is. They’ll be able to find it.”