“You’ll never get away with this!” I cry, because that’s what they always cry in movies.
We’re almost to the open door—to our escape—when, without warning, it slams shut, seemingly by itself. We whirl around and see Pyrus standing directly behind us, arms crossed against his chest.
“Wait,” he says in a calm, smooth voice, laced with menace.
“Y-yes?” Magnus manages to stammer. My heart starts pounding hard and fast in my chest. I don’t know what he’s going to say, but I can pretty much bet it’s not going to be good.
“If she’s telling the truth—about being a fairy—killing her would be a very big waste,” Pyrus says, reaching out to pluck Magnus’s hand from my arm. He wraps his own arm around me and leads me over to the couch. “Not to mention a sign of war to those in Fairyland, whom I’d very much like to have as allies.” He sits me down and takes a tray of small cakes off the coffee table, offering one to me. I shake my head, disgusted.
“But…” Magnus stammers. “I thought…”
“You think too small, as usual,” Pyrus rebukes him. “That’s why I am the one in charge.” He smirks. “Imagine, an alliance between fairies and vampire royalty. Fighting side by side, on the same team. We would be unstoppable.” He smiles sweetly at me. I manage to hold back my scowl. I’d love to tell him off right now, but I know that speaking my mind may lead him to losing his temper. And I can all too clearly see the results of that, currently bleeding out on the carpet floor.
“So what are you saying?” Magnus asks, finding his tongue after a moment. “You want her to be my blood mate after all?”
“Of course not,” Pyrus replies disgustedly, looking at Magnus as if he were a dim-witted child.
“Then…?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” The House Speaker smiles widely, revealing blinding white fangs. “I want her to be mine.”
24
Rayne
“You are now free to eat around the cabin…”
The plane erupts in chaos as the queen finishes her speech. The same zombies, who up until this point have been pretty darn well behaved, considering their lack of working brain cells, start going crazy—ripping off their headphones and rising from their seats, growling and groaning and gnashing their teeth. One grabs the seat cushion in front of him, ripping it from its frame and taking a huge chomp. Bits of foam start flying everywhere. Yikes.
Guess dinner-and-a-movie time is over. Well, at least the movie part…
I look at Jareth. He looks back at me. Then we both turn to Glenda. “Look, Glenda,” Jareth tries, though I think we both know by now it’s a losing battle. “It’s not what you think.”
Glenda narrows her eyes. “I saw you kissing her,” she reminds Jareth. “What else should I think?”
“Actually I kissed him,” I interject. “And he didn’t like it. At all. In fact, Jareth, you thought it was super-gross, right? And you were about to remind me that you have a girlfriend that you love very much and—”
“Silence!” Glenda commands. “Do you think I was born yesterday?”
“Glenda, darling, I can assure you I don’t think that—”
Her gaze locks down on him. If looks could kill, he’d be on the floor. “You used me,” she seethes. “Pretended to love me just so you could gain access to my children.” She shakes her head. “Well, guess what?” she says. “You now have a full-access pass…to get ripped apart!”
And with that, she turns back to her impatient brood, who have gathered behind her in the doorway, struggling to be first in line for fresh meat. “Have fun, kiddos,” she tells them, then ducks back into the cabin, leaving a doorway full of zombies behind her.
With vampire speed, Jareth reaches the door, attempting to slam it shut. Unfortunately, one of the zombies manages to wedge his arm in the doorway, seconds before he can lock it down. Jareth tries to bang the door against his arm, with great force, but no sense, no feeling, I guess, and the zombie keeps trying to claw his way through.
Jareth throws his full weight against the door, his face whitening with the effort it takes to keep the zombies at bay.
“I have a gun,” I tell him. “But it’s back in the main cabin.” I glance at the door, noticing a small crack slowly snaking its way down the center. How long will it hold against the force of a dozen zombies?
“Doesn’t matter,” Jareth says. “We can’t be using guns on an airplane anyway. If we were to shoot out a window, we’d lose cabin pressure. Then we’d all end up dead.”
“No offense, dude, but that’ll probably happen regardless,” I remind him as I search the cabin for some kind of alternative weapon. I can hear the wood splintering behind me. We’ve probably got ten seconds to come up with a decent plan before they’re able to bust it in.
“Um, do you guys mind if I come out now?” Spider calls from behind the door. In all the chaos, I’d totally forgotten she was in there. “I mean, I want you to have your privacy and all, but at the same time, my toes are falling asleep.” She pokes her head out from the bathroom, her eyes widening as her gaze falls on the zombie arm sticking out of the main cabin door. “Uh,” she says, “what did I miss?”
“Give us a hand over here,” I call out, trying to drag a heavy armchair against the door.