Chapter 5
When the colonel announced that she was in charge, Eli couldn’t help himself from sputtering. “Bullshit.”
“I assure you, it’s true.”
“I don’t believe it.” He shook his head.
“Why would I lie? And I will add that if you can’t handle it, then there is no point in continuing. Leave and go home.”
Hair half-cut, Eli nonetheless stood and turned to eye Yvette. Still one hundred percent human. He’d not been sure the night they’d met, his senses clouded by alcohol, but this close to her, there was no mistaking it. “And exactly how can you be a squadron leader for a flying crew without wings?”
“Who says I don’t have any?” She arched a brow.
For a moment, he doubted his assessment and eyed her again. A woman, shapely and fit. He smelled many things from her: hotel soap, the musk of her womanhood, a certain something that made him want to rub his head against her…but no animal. Not furry, feathery, scaly, or leathery skinned. Sure of himself, he stated, “You don’t shift.”
“You’re correct. I don’t. I’m a dormant.” Meaning, she had been born of shifters but was unable to actually change. It happened, especially in mixed marriages with humans.
“Are you a pilot?” he asked, still trying to figure out how she thought she could lead an airborne squadron.
“More like a jockey. I’ve got a ride for the skies.”
His lip curled. “You’d need an eagle to carry you.” It had happened a few times in his career, times they’d been asked to tote people around. Not often, though, as it was dangerous to both. Just ask that general who accidentally landed in that pigsty during a training mission.
“Don’t be silly. How on Earth would I fight dangling from someone’s talons?” She snorted.
“Then how? Jet pack?” He couldn’t help the exasperation as this conversation took too long.
“You’ll see.”
Would he? Because he was second-guessing his choice to join her now. He’d come because he’d assumed that they needed him to lead. But to expect him to be a soldier taking orders—
It dawned on him suddenly. This is perfect. It relieved the pressure on him. He could just do as he was told. Volunteer for the most dangerous aspects. Not be the one responsible for everyone else’s life.
Purpose without the same kind of accountability. All he had to do was agree to obey a human.
He shook his head. “I don’t see how that’s supposed to work. Part of our ability to work well as a team comes from following the leader of the flight. Of being in tune with them.”
“Perhaps before you denigrate my methods, you should see them in action.”
He slammed his mouth shut. She had a point.
She waggled the scissors. “Sit. We need to finish the job.”
She whirled with the scissors snipping non-stop, even his beard, which meant her standing in his bubble. He couldn’t help but breathe in her scent. Why was it so potent? And why did it affect him so much? How long since he’d been this close to a woman while sober? Aware and throbbing. Hands in his lap hid his erection.
When someone knocked at the door, she waved him off with a final swipe of the razor. “Grab a quick shower while I get this.”
He ran to the bathroom, only barely remembering to lock the door before jumping into a cold shower. It wouldn’t be right to jerk off thinking of her, not with her in the next room. It felt disrespectful somehow. So, he stood under the teeth-chattering cold spray until his sac shriveled so far it would take a heatwave to draw his balls out.
The moment the water shut off, she knocked. “Clothes. On the floor soon as you open the door. Get moving. You have less than five minutes if you expect breakfast.”
Food?
Oh, hell yeah. He practically humped into the attire he dragged in. It even included a toothbrush and a hastily created ID still warm from the machine that’d etched the plastic—the benefits of knowing ex-military guys with connections.
Speaking of which, he noticed the colonel was travelling in civilian wear. Unusual given they got the best perks when in uniform. Then again, the shifter divisions were the hush-hush kind.
He emerged to find the colonel with a bag of fast food in one hand, the other raised so she could glance at her watch. “Done with two minutes to spare. Excellent. Please bring the luggage. Our ride is here.”
He could have snapped at her. How dare she order him around?
She ranked higher than him. He’d better remember that. “Yes, ma’am.”
Her expression didn’t change, and yet he could have sworn he’d just passed some kind of test.
They left the hotel, their taxi driver a shifter by scent—bison, possibly. It reminded him of a ribeye steak. It was only as they drove onto the tarmac, not towards the terminal, that Eli began to have questions.
“Are we going by private jet?”
“Yes.”
What she didn’t mention was that it was the less-than-luxurious version.
The plane was a converted passenger jet, modified for cargo, which meant that his seat was the kind that folded down and required its passenger to be strapped in by a harness. The insulation only barely helped against the cold as they lifted off.
He grimaced. “Do you always fly cargo-class?”
Sitting beside him, she sounded amused as she replied. “Come now, it’s not that bad. I made sure someone brought lunch and a snack.”
“Food?” That breakfast had barely begun to fill the empty hole in his stomach.
“Let me see what they packed.” She rose and headed for a cooler, its handle threaded through some straps. She retrieved it as he removed the harness and stood.
In some respects, this kind of travel worked better. He could move around without other passengers or the flight attendant giving him trouble. A quick up and down of the aisle showed cargo filling the space—mostly containers sealed shut. At the very front by the cockpit was the washroom, so that aspect was covered. At the back, hung on hooks, were parachutes—not reassuring.
When he returned, it was to find food laid out. Fruit. Sandwiches. Juice boxes. Which might sound childish but were practical in the field.
“Hungry?”
No point in lying when his stomach gurgled. “I wouldn’t mind a bite or two.”
It was as if she’d known and had ordered more than enough to sate him before his nap, and a few hours later when he woke, ravenous again. Eating helped with the trembling in his hands. It had been a while since he’d been this sober.
It was as he wondered how much longer that she finally said, “Are you ready to meet the rest of the Cryptavian Squadron?”
“We arriving soon?” He’d not heard the engine change that signaled them slowing for a descent.
“Yup.” She stood and moved to the back. He thought nothing of it until all the air in the place started sucking out as the aircraft’s pressurizing seal was breached.
She’d opened a door! He began moving quickly and found her standing by the open emergency hatch.
“What are you doing?” he yelled over the drone of the engine and the suck of air.
She turned to him, showing off goggles and a grin that didn’t bode well. “This is where we get off.”