Page 21 of Princess of Thorns and Ruin

She dashes over the pilot’s body and sits next to me, her mouth and chin dripping with blood. “Do you know how to fly this thing?”

“In theory.” An alarm beeps loudly, and I fumble around with a few buttons to shut it up, but nothing seems to work as it should. “I think the commands have been tampered with. Grab your phone.”

“I don’t have one.”

I grit my teeth at the ridiculousness of that. “In my pocket.”

Her fingers stop shy of my leg. “I’m not groping your thigh, Mr. Beaumont.”

“Give me a fucking second. I’m busy.” I retrieve my cell phone and pass it to her.

“Password?”

“1897.”

She snickers. “Is that the year you were born? Very secure.”

I recite my little brother’s number, reigning in the urge to flip her off. “Put it on speaker.”

The shrill dial tone annoys me to no end, but he finally answers. “What do you want? This is a secure line—”

“Jasper, I need an extraction team for Lucky near Perpignan. ASAP.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? We weren’t expecting you until tomorrow.”

Another high-pitch series of beeps blares from the alarm system, and I press a few buttons at random. “I changed the schedule and sent you the details.”

Silence takes over the line for a second. “You certainly didn’t.”

“We’ve been set up. The pilot was bringing us directly into an ambush.” I force a deep breath down my lungs. “Sending our coordinates.”

The princess’ manicured nails skim the screen closest to her. “You have no idea what you’re doing, do you? This is the sensor control. The fuel tank is almost empty.”

The sensor blinks rapidly, and I grimace. “Where should we land? We’re running out of fuel.”

After a long minute, Jasper finally answers, “Go north-east. There’s a highway near your position that’s closed for renovations. I’ll have a unit meet you there in fifteen minutes.”

“We’ll be there.” Arielle hangs up the phone with one tap and buckles down next to me. “Vampires can’t be killed by plane crashes, right?”

“No, but we can be dusted by the explosion that would follow.” I concentrate on the computer navigation screen and realize the princess is right. This is more of a glorified cellphone than the planes I used to fly as a rookie, and with her help, the plane finally starts heading in the right direction.

“Let’s try to land this thing.”

Eyes fixed on the fuel screen, she nods. “I’m with you there, Mr. Beaumont.”

“How do you know so much about planes, anyway?” I ask without thinking, my tongue loosened by the wild adrenaline pumping through me.

She stares dead ahead. “My mother was a pilot.”

Of course. I’m such an idiot for asking. Think, Alec, before you open your big mouth.

I bite my tongue not to say the wrong thing, knowing I’m digging my own grave here and only giving her ammunition to act on her earlier threat. The memory of our late queen is most sacred, and prying into her relationship with her daughter is stupid at best.

Black clouds overcome the sky, and I fly low until an empty strip of highway comes into view. We manage to land the plane without crashing it despite the heavy downpour. Thank our mother Nyx for that.

Four royal guard black and red SUVs barrel down the empty highway in our direction a minute later. With a deep, cleansing breath, I stand up, dust off my uniform, and adjust my cufflinks.

The princess steps over the pilot’s corpse with a disgusted pout. “These people meant to kill me.”

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