Jax and Wayra sit in the chairs directly facing ours so that we occupy our own area. Ignoring the thinner Regent agent across the aisle, Trey continues to use his communicator, tapping on it like he’s typing something.
In frustration, the agent by our chairs clears his throat loudly. “I’m Ustus, the agent assigned to the Hollowell case. You are to take the other transport. Your mission is over. You have successfully delivered Hollowell to us. We’ll deliver her to the corrective court for processing.”
Trey glances at me and raises his eyebrow in question. I nod; the agent is telling us the truth. Trey frowns at Ustus. “I have received no such orders from my superiors, therefore, my mission is not complete.”
“Your orders are here,” Ustus counters, snapping his fingers. Another darkly clad agent appears, handing him a digital tablet. Trey takes it from the officer before plucking a silver bead from the tablet. Placing it in his ear, he touches the face of the computer-like tablet with his hand. It scans his hand and Trey listens to whatever is being explained in his earpiece.
He pulls the earpiece from his ear. “They said I’m to turn her over to you upon our arrival in Rafe.” He’s not being truthful.
“Listen again, my orders were clear. We handle it from here,” Ustus replies in a frustrated tone.
“You know, the thing about these messages is that they only play once,” Trey replies casually, handing it back to the officer.
“If you refuse to get off this transport, then I’ll be forced to take her to the other one.” Ustus is determined not to back down.
“You can try,” Trey replies with menace in his tone, standing up. Wayra and Jax stand too, looking very muscley again. “But I wouldn’t recommend it.”
Ustus’s nostrils flare, but he takes a step back, nodding to his men behind him. “I will remain on this trift. We’ll take possession when we reach Rafe.” The other agents nod, exiting the sleek aircraft to board the other one. Turning to Trey, he says in a stilted tone, “I hope that your lack of cooperation does not adversely affect the commendation you’re to receive from Skye for this service.”
Sitting down in their seats again, Trey’s frown deepens as he looks at Jax and Wayra.
Ustus walks to the front to sit with the pilot. I try hard to smile at the Cavars. Pulling off something just short of a grimace, I roll my eyes and say, “You can try.” All their eyes turn to me as we burst out laughing. Feeling the trift lift off the ground slowly, like it’s levitating, everyone sobers quickly.
I moisten my lips that have suddenly gone dry. “Once we get to Rafe, you have to hand me over to those Regent guys, right?” I see Trey’s eyebrows pull together.
“Yes,” he states, almost sullenly.
“How long do I have?” I ask, feeling anxiety creeping in.
“It should only take a quarter of a part,” Jax says with what looks like regret. Since a part is a little more than an hour, I do the math and figure I have about twenty minutes until I get handed over.
“Who are the Regent police?”
“They’re a special branch that takes care of palace affairs,” Trey says.
“Palace…as in a royal family kind of thing?”
“Urr…maybe like Secret Service?” Jax asks, looking at me to see if that’s a good enough explanation.
“So, this is…no longer military and it’s not a civil court situation, like you were led to believe…”
“This is completely wacked,” Wayra growls in a low tone, looking between Jax and Trey.
“Who knows about me…besides you guys?”
“Our superiors,” Trey replies, looking grim.
“That phone thing takes pictures, right?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, take my picture,” I say, running my hand through my hair. “Then I want you to send it to all of your e-mail accounts or whatever it is you guys have here. Send it to your brother, too.”
“Why?” Wayra asks, looking at Trey’s smile.
“Deniability…it’s hard to deny something when there is proof that it exists,” I explain. “Oh, I think we should send a picture of Trey and me to Gideon, too. You know, to thank him for his hospitality.” Seeing Trey’s smile deepen, I hold still for the pictures.
Snapping a few photos of me, Trey hands the phone to Jax who takes a couple of pictures of us together. Then I still as something occurs to me. “Wait! Uh…wait a second! Don’t send that! Here…can we erase these?” I ask, panicking and trying to reach for the communicator.
Pulling it back from me, Trey asks, “What’s wrong?”
“Not such a good idea for you guys,” I reach for the phone again. “You need to erase them.”
“Why?” he asks again.
“Because this will get you in trouble.”
“No, this is insurance,” Trey replies. “We keep it.”
“You shouldn’t be involved,” I say, thinking about what could happen to him if he uses those pictures to help me.
“I’m involved,” he states, like that’s the end of the discussion.
My frown deepens. “Don’t be stupid. This feels like a ‘sacrifice the pawn’ move to me. If that’s the case, then you can be included in that if you have these pictures.”
“Or, it can elevate me to queen,” he replies, unruffled.
My lips twitch at the mental image of him as a “queen.” “This is not queen material…knight maybe, but not queen,” I reply, chewing my bottom lip.
“I’ll take the upgrade.” His eyes soften a little. “Here, memorize this.”
He holds his communicator up to me; there is a serial number on the back with fifteen letters and numbers. “What is this?” I ask, trying to commit the code to memory.
“My number.”
“Oh,” I murmur, feeling myself blush. “Okay.”
Everyone falls silent then. I gaze out the window at the blue sky dotted with ultra-white clouds. Glancing at Trey, his jaw is tense, like he’s on edge. His hand on the armrest next to mine moves so that it’s just touching mine. The knot in my stomach eases a little and is replaced by his presence and the feeling of being protected.
From my seat, I watch the trift make a rapid descent and touch down on a manicured lawn. The lawn is incredible; it’s laid out with intricate cascading water features that make the Buckingham Fountain in Chicago look like a birdbath. In the distance beyond the gardens, I can see structures that look like porticoes leading to beautiful, ornately sculptured buildings—like something you might see in Versailles.
“Where are we?” I ask.
“The palace,” Jax says, looking nervous.
“Oh.” I feel ill. “Okay, I have something for you guys.” Reaching inside my sleeve, I pull out two small packages wrapped in the tissue my new clothes came in. Handing one to Wayra and one to Jax, I smile at their startled expressions.
“What’s this?” Wayra asks. He opens the tissue paper, and grinning, he holds up my pink underwear.
“Pinky promise.” Debt paid, I think.
Jax opens his, seeing my pink bra inside, he laughs like I’ve never heard him laugh before. When Jax looks at me, I say, “I’m denying all knowledge of this transaction.”