any more time, she got back on their trail, pulling out of the lot, then zooming along the side street parallel to Main, until she reached the edge of town and headed toward the highway. She could still see the tail end of the green SUV up ahead. Pressing down on the gas, Brigit thrilled to the roar of the engine and the feeling of power beneath her. She didn’t even have to max out her horsepower, though, before she caught up enough to be sure she wouldn’t lose them
She eased off the accelerator, keeping a safe distance and hoping Utana wouldn’t notice her so near. If she let her focus waver, even a little, he might sense her. She certainly felt him. He was a keen, sizzling awareness that seemed to come to life in every cell of her body. Every nerve ending seemed acutely attuned to his energy. His life force. His … aura. The closer she got to him, the more her skin tingled and prickled and felt. Every part of her was uncomfortably aware. Like when her teeth became sensitive to heat and cold. That kind of overpowering feeling, of being too sensitive, too aware. Too … vulnerable. Yes, vulnerable. Damn, she didn’t like that at all.
The SUV was turning off. Okay, okay, she needed to stop getting so distracted. She frowned as she approached the exit, noting the signs for Eastern Main Airport. She assumed they meant “airport” in the loosest sense of the word, because they were, at this point, in the middle of nowhere, and because this was not a place she’d ever heard of. It clearly wasn’t a commercial airport.
Good God, they were going to fly? The Good Samaritan was going to get a surprise when he tried to put a five-thousand-year-old Sumerian on an airplane. Utana wasn’t all that stable on the ground, for God’s sake. He was probably going to freak.
Beyond all that, Brigit wondered again who the hell the guy in the SUV was. Her suspicion that he was more than just a helpful stranger grew bigger. Because why would a helpful stranger feed Utana, clothe him, bathe him, shave him and then drive him to an airport?
Something was going on. She should have sensed it from the start. But she’d been so busy trying to sort through all the wishy-washy emotional bullshit, not to mention the fire and brimstone sexual bullshit, in her mind that she’d missed it.
Brigit followed them, staying as far behind as she could, over a circuitous and unpaved road. They bypassed several hangars, heading instead up a side route marked plainly as private. Though she imagined this entire place was privately owned.
No one stopped her as she tagged along, keeping their dust cloud in sight. Not yet, at least.
Far ahead of her, the dirt gave way to a winding strip of pavement. The SUV came to a stop at a manned security booth. After what she assumed was a brief exchange, the zebra-striped bar blocking the way rose up to allow the SUV entry. Not much farther beyond, Brigit saw a small black jet sitting on the tarmac. She could tell from the wavering vapors it emitted that its powerful engines were running.
A private jet?
Well, that clinched it. This Good Samaritan dude was definitely not the kindhearted local yokel she’d taken him for, despite what his jeans and flannel shirt and forest-green SUV might suggest.
Were probably intended to suggest.
The two men got out. Utana was moving under his own steam, and she hated the feeling of relief that came with the sight of him. She was supposed to kill him, not wound him and then worry about whether he was feeling it.
His stance wasn’t as erect or powerful as was his norm. He was still hurting. As she watched him from a distance, she felt his pain and wondered again why the hell he didn’t use her brother’s stolen power to heal himself.
Seeing the man that way detracted from her view of him as an all-powerful, timeless, ageless, almost Satanic being. She was seeing him as a man, a wounded man, out of his time and confused. Then again, she’d been seeing him that way ever since he’d kissed her. Ever since she’d seen his childlike delight at running water and electric lights.
The two men stood for a moment, and she tried to see the look on Utana’s face as he studied the jet. God, it must be amazing to him. Beyond imagining. And yet his face and reactions were hidden from her view.
And then she was distracted. The man at the tiny booth was exiting it, looking her way, raising a walkie-talkie from his belt.
Damn.
She executed a quick U-turn and headed back to the parking lot. No garage. This airport was too small for that. She left her precious car in the lot, locking it up tight, and then jogged toward that winding strip of pavement again. As soon as she thought she was out of sight of any prying eyes she poured on the speed … and yet she was too late.
The small jet was already in motion, speeding down the runway like a black vampire bat, about to take flight.
Blow it up!
She swallowed hard, watching the plane as it roared down the runway, picking up speed. Lifting her hand, fingers to thumb, she focused her eyes on the jet.
Do it! It’s what you came here to do. Hell, it’s what you were born to do! Her inner voice commanded. Kill him. Kill them both.
She called up the power, and her hand trembled with her torn emotions. Dammit, what was she going to do? There could be innocent people on that jet. The pilot, any other passengers she may not have seen. Hell, she didn’t even know if the Good Samaritan was deserving of being blown to bits.
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