Jane Godman - Otherworld Challenger

“How did he manage to chain you? I’ve seen you fight. You can overpower half a dozen men. You can certainly take out a few vampires.”

Was it her imagination or did Jethro look slightly sheepish? “I was tricked. There was this girl and, well...it’s a long story. Let’s just say I wasn’t concentrating.”

Vashti took a moment to assimilate what he was saying. “Oh. How did you escape?”

“Lorcan freed me, but it was too late for Dimitar. His transformation was complete by the time Lorcan arrived.”

“So he is one of them now?”

Jethro’s eyes seemed darker than ever. “No. I couldn’t let that happen to him. As a vampire, he’d have been Tibor’s plaything for all eternity. That blood-sucking bastard would have made him pay daily for switching his allegiance.”

“What did you do?”

“I staked and decapitated him. Then Lorcan and I buried Dimitar in Tangiers before we left.”

It occurred to Vashti that she should say something comforting. That was what Stella would do. It seemed to be the mortal way. So she searched around for a form of words that sounded right. “That’s what friends are for.”

Jethro’s helpless laughter continued almost until they landed. When they left the plane they were in another airport, similar to the one they had departed from but larger and busier. Vashti moved surreptitiously closer to Jethro. “Does Tibor have you followed everywhere?”

“Pretty much. Although I’m honored this time. He doesn’t usually send two.”

Sure enough, they had to wait in another line. It must be a mortal thing. “How do you stand it?”

Jethro shrugged. “At least, being a necromancer, I can spot a vampire easily. They are the undead. They can’t sneak up on me. My other stalker poses more of a problem.”

“Iago?” The powerful sorcerer who was in league with Moncoya had sworn to kill Jethro, Lorcan, Cal and Stella in revenge for the death of Niniane, the Lady of the Lake, during the great battle for control of Otherworld.

“Yes. He’s a sneaky little trickster. The guy thinks it’s funny to take on different guises to keep his opponents guessing, and he’s good at it. He could be anyone in this line. Or he could be the dog that snaps at my heels in the park, the seagull that shits on my head, the cop that gives me a ticket, the man-eating lion around the next corner... You get the picture.” He glanced around, lowering his voice so no one else could hear. “My necromancing powers don’t work against him. I have to rely on brute strength, which is fine if he’s in his own form, not so great if he decides to be a grizzly bear. And here in the mortal realm, I’m on my own. At least in Otherworld, we were four against one. Those are the kinds of odds we need against Iago.”

“You aren’t on your own.” Jethro raised his brows in response to her words. “I’m here.”

“Does this mean I have a Valkyrie-trained faerie princess on my side?”

“No, it means I won’t stand by and watch while you get killed.” They reached the desk and the conversation halted while Vashti produced the documents Cal had provided her with.

“Isn’t that the same thing?” Jethro asked as they finally exited the vast building.

“If I observe while Iago kills you, you won’t find the challenger. That’s not the same as me being on your side. You haven’t found yourself a new friend.”

“Funnily enough, I wasn’t considering you as a replacement for Dimitar. While I might be glad of your help against Iago, I don’t think you’d make great sidekick material.”

It was a good thing Jethro knew where he was going. The noise and bustle had increased to a whole new level. Vashti paused, looking around with a mixture of trepidation and wonder. “I’m not. You’ll have to be the sidekick.”

Chapter 4

Vashti looked from Jethro to the small aircraft and back again with an expression of disbelief. “You are going to fly this thing?”

After they had made their way out of the large airport building, Jethro had made his way through the crowds of people to a bus. This had taken them across the vast airport complex and deposited them on the other side. Trying not to show her confusion, Vashti had followed Jethro as he showed identification to a guard on a gate and then made his way onto an airfield.

He grinned. “Are you asking to see my pilot certification?”

“No, I’m walking away.”

Jethro shrugged, throwing his bag into the plane. “Seems a strange way to observe me—particularly since you don’t know where I’m going—but, as I said, I’m not waiting around for you.”

Vashti bit her lip. The message was clear. Go with him or be stranded. “You really know how to do this?”

“I have over a thousand hours flying time and a commercial pilot’s license.”

He swung into the cockpit. Swallowing her nervousness, Vashti walked around to the other side of the aircraft and clambered into the passenger seat. It was a cramped space. Behind the seats there was a small space, barely large enough to stow their bags. She watched Jethro’s hands as they busied themselves checking the various instruments. They were strong, capable hands and she was about to place her life in them. “What does that mean?”

“It means if I wanted to, I could make my living as a pilot.”

“Wouldn’t you need your own plane to do that?”

“This is my plane.” His glance flickered her way briefly. “One of them.”

Vashti studied his profile. The concentration on his face was absolute. She started to relax. “Maybe you should think about doing this instead of being a mercenary.”

“It doesn’t pay as well.” One corner of his mouth lifted in a wry smile. “Although it would be a hell of a lot safer.” He held out a pair of headphones. “Put these on. Once the engines start, you’ll need them. It gets noisy and the only way we can talk to each other will be through the microphones.”

After a few final checks, Jethro started the engines and the little craft juddered into life. Completely at home with the confusing array of controls, he steered it out onto the open runway, listening to the instructions in his earpiece.

“What are we waiting for?” Vashti frowned as they stopped.

“Our turn. We’re in a queue.”

“Can’t we go to the front anyway?”

“No, because we have a thing here called manners.”

She groaned and rolled her eyes. “I wish I was mortal so I could wait around in more lines.”

Jethro took his eyes off the runway long enough to cast a sidelong glance in her direction. “Just what I don’t need when I’m trying to concentrate...a sarcastic faerie in my earpiece.”

They were moving forward again now, gaining pace rapidly, and Vashti forgot her impatience as the plane rose off the ground, wobbling from side to side as it seemed to struggle to find its balance. The airfield below them grew smaller and then the world tilted as Jethro banked the plane around to the right. Vashti fought the impulse to grab his arm and force him to bring it back so it was level again. The contrast between the jet they had traveled on earlier when there had been no sensation of movement and this plane that swayed and bobbed as it climbed higher into the blue sky could not have been more marked.

“How long will it take?” She was suddenly aware of feeling intensely tired. Perhaps it was as a result of not having slept for two nights. Or maybe it was the nerves caused by wondering if this fragile little craft was going to hurtle to the ground at any minute.

“It will depend on the wind, but it’s not too bad today. Less than an hour.”

An hour of living on a knife edge of pressure. I can cope with that. And there were compensations. Being this close to Jethro wasn’t the hardship she had always imagined it would be. How have I gone from loathing physical contact to craving it in such a small space of time? She studied her own slender, jeans-clad thigh as it bumped against the muscular length of Jethro’s leg with the movement of the plane. But it wasn’t just anyone she wanted in her personal space. It was him. The thought annoyed her as much as it thrilled her. I don’t even like this man, yet here I am hoping he’ll tilt the plane again so I get thrown up against him! How pathetic is that?