My claws extend, tearing the fabric. Luckily, the ripping sound is drowned out by the humming of the plane's engine. With a shaky hand, I reach for the water bottle and take a couple of swigs.

Cassum tosses me an evil glare. "Stop fidgeting."

Easy for her to say.

"And control your wolf. You're destroying the seat."

I stare at the holes in the leather-upholstery; I'm so beyond caring. "Doesn't the pressure bother your ears?"

"No."

The plane jerks and a sudden drop forces me to my feet. My head slams hard against the low hanging overhead bin, but I ignore the pain that shoots along my scalp. "WE ARE GOING DOWN."

The other passengers stare. A few snicker. My cheeks heat, which never happens. Period. I'm an Alpha King who doesn't need the ridicule of these humans. When one refuses to break eye contact, a low growl rumbles in my chest.

"Kendrick, sit your ass down."

I glare at Cassum with knitted brows. How come she is so calm? We are in a freaking death machine.

"Sir, you need to sit down." The angry face of the pretty flight attendant who smiled mega sweetly at me when I first boarded the business class cabin could rival my sister's. Hell, why is everyone mad at me? Nothing wrong with warning these humans, even if it turned out to be false alarm.

Since I don't want to cause more of a spectacle, I slam back down into my seat. One more hostile stare of the flight attendant and she follows the call of a man three rows in front of me.

Thanks, buddy, I owe you one.

I focus on Cassum. "Aren't you afraid at all?"

"Why should I? According to the internet, flying is a much safer form of travel than driving a car."

"But a human is steering the plane. You know how they are. Weak, and they act irrational under pressure."

My sister snorts. "Yeah. It's not as if a wolf will ever lose his cool in a stressful situation." When I shoot her a dark look, she smirks. "Besides, you let Nicollo chauffeur you around. What's different about that?"

"He is my beta and I trust him. Plus I'm right next to him when he drives, so I can intervene if needs me."

"Those are just excuses, Kendrick. I'll guarantee you that we'll arrive safe and sound." An evil smile plays on her lips. "And if not, chances are you won't get to complain because we'll be dead."

What a comforting thought.

I lean my head back against the overstuffed backrest. Fuck me. Not only did I have to spend good money on two plane tickets and two false passports; no, siree, now I'm caught in this trip from hell because my sister thought it would be best to stay out of hostile territories as much as possible. Not that this isn't a fair point—triggering a war is the last thing I need from this—but it's nevertheless a cowardice way. Andrenior, the lucky bastard, was able to simply location shift. Disappeared with a puff like an effing magician. Even though it's undoubtedly not a bad skill to have.

With a sigh, I stare out the window to distract myself from the swaying plane. Wolves are not meant to fly; that's bird territory. Everyone knows that it goes against nature. I should've told Cassum to forget this ludicrous plan and go home. This tongue thing for Raelyn might not even work, so all this could be for nothing.

When the plane hops up and down, I hold on to the water bottle, succumbing to my fate. A ping has me look up. Seatbelt signs, a clear hint that the plane is in trouble. But why should I care? No one else seems to mind, including my dearie sister.

"Kendrick, you need to fasten your seatbelt."

I stare at Cassum. When the plane drops once again, I give the bottle a good squeeze. The result is water splattering all over my pants. With an eyeroll, my sister leans closer and fastens the belt around me. Death machine, that's all this is. We'll never make it back onto solid ground without a scratch.

Fortunately, it's one of those times I'm proven wrong. After an eternity—and not a second less—the nice flight attendant announces that we are getting ready to land. A few more bumps and the plane rolls over the tarmac. I'll need to figure something out for the return trip. No way I'll ever set foot into anything that flies.

Drifting along with a herd of passengers like good sheep following their mother, we arrive at immigration. A stern-faced lady asks me a bunch of questions about my plans in the US, to which I give her this bullshit story that we are here to watch a football game. She obviously buys it, taking my picture and fingerprints next. After Cassum endures the same, we are released onto hostile territory. The wolves ruling this neck of the woods are an aggressive pack that calls themselves Los Rescatores. It's a bunch of crap since they are not out to rescue anyone but expand their running grounds, just like anyone else. Over the past years, they have been pushing up north at the same rate my pack has been expanding south. Sooner rather than later, we'll clash, but that doesn't mean I should piss on their turf, especially without my fighters. My stomach lurches in a queasy twist.

We meet up with Andrenior in the arrival's hall. He sips a smoothie without a worry in the world and smirks at me before winking at my sister.

"Where to now?" I growl.

"The detention center is on the other side of town. We can take a cab."

That means I'll have to put my life into the hands of another human. Not my first choice but once again unavoidable. Running through downtown Houston in my wolf form will get me shot, or at least tranquilized. And with my recent luck, they'll lock me up in one of their zoos instead of releasing me into the wild.

The seats in the cab don't give my legs enough room, and being sandwiched shoulder-to-shoulder between Cassum and Andrenior doesn't do much for my foul mood. My sister owes me big for this one but whom am I kidding? She'll claim it was all my thing because of Raelyn, maybe she'll even demand a favor in return. As if being indebted to a bunch of warlocks isn't already bad enough.

As we wait at a traffic light, Andrenior's phone buzzes.

"Fuck, that's Marush. Not a sound."

I click my tongue. Now I'm being shushed like a pup.

"Hey, bro, what's up?" Andrenior beams as if his fellow warlock could see him through the line. "Shit, that's covered. No need to freak out." As he listens, his forehead wrinkles. "Nope, there's nothing with Rikka you need to be concerned about. As a matter of fact, I'm just on my way to meet her."

The silence is nerve-racking and a sudden blare of a horn has me jump. The wrinkle on Andrenior's forehead deepens with every passing second.

"Like I said, Marush, it's been taken care of. No need for you to come and check it out." He laughs. "I'm not some rookie you need to supervise. Just chill, alright?" A few beats of silence. "Sure thing. I'll have her call you later."

With that, he hangs up.

"Everything okay?" I ask.

"Marush heard through the grapevine that Rikka got herself arrested and he can get a little overprotective when it comes to her. I told him it's under control, so for now, he backed off."

"Maybe you should've let him come. He could've helped."

Andrenior gapes at me with an open mouth. "You're kidding, right? Marush is a Sentinel. He would've killed you just because he considers your kind an abomination of nature. You shouldn't even exist."

It takes a lot of effort not to gulp. "I wish he'd try." The words are mumbled and don't ring true. Growing up, I was always taught to avoid Sentinels at all cost. My dad called them once the most powerful creatures on Earth. An imbalance of nature that could destroy the equilibrium of good and evil.

"In our world, Sentinels are the guardians who rule the warlock community, and they hold incredible powers. Marush has lived for over two thousand years. Personally, I wouldn't fuck with him, if I were you."

"Hopefully, he and Kendrick will never meet." Cassum shoots me one of her "behave yourself" looks. "Now let's focus on what's important. What's the rescue plan?"

"We're gonna visit Rikka first, so she knows that help in on the way. The rest we'll figure out afterward."

I shake my head. "Doesn't sound like it's gonna work."

"Man, don't be so pessimistic."

"I'm just being realistic." For me, figuring out afterward is code for disaster. Anything short of a well-thought out plan is destined to fail.

"That's not how I usually operate." Andrenior smirks. "You should chill, man. All those wrinkles on your forehead make you look old."

Says the hundred-year-old warlock. I stare at the roof of the cab, ready to punch a hole through the metal, so I can finally breathe in peace. Then I could plug the opening with Andrenior's head. If all this weren't for Raelyn, I would surely abandon this ludicrous mission. The mere thought of her sweet smile warms my heart. The end will justify the means—at least that's what I've to keep telling myself.

~~~~

The detention center is much bigger than expected; its size could rival an urban hospital or a small apartment complex. The reception area is manned with armed guards, who are shielded by thick glass walls surrounding their desks. Even in my wolf form, it would be impossible to immobilize them. That kills all chances of a direct prison break.

As I tentatively approach the desk, an older woman frowns at me. My smile is intended to suck the tension out of the air but seems to irritate her even more.

"Name of inmate?"

"Rikka. . ." Since I have no clue what her last name is, I stare at Andrenior for help.

He shrugs.

The woman glowers at me as if I did something wrong. "I need a full name. And what's your relationship with the inmate?"

Fuck, what do I know? "Her uncle?"

"And you don't know her last name?" Now that she puts it like this, it sounds very farfetched.

"Rikka lies all the time. We're not sure what name she used." Cassum beams at the guard. The tips of her canines show. She's losing her patience.

The woman grumbles something under her breath and pecks on her keyboard. A few clicks of her mouse and she looks up. "I got a Rikka Watson."

"Yes, that's her."

"Says here she's a ward of the state."

My gaze flicks to Andrenior. He shrugs once again. So far, he's been utterly useless.

My attention returns to the woman behind the desk. "What does that mean?"

"If you want to visit her, you need permission from her caseworker. It also states in her file that she has no living relatives." The guard's glare has turned murderous.

My face stings with heat; I hate being caught in a lie. For now, retreat is our only option. "Okay, thanks."

When Andrenior refuses to move, Cassum pulls his arm.

"But she's my sister. I really need to see her," he blurts out.

The woman rolls her eyes and signals to one of her colleagues. The bulky guard strolls over. They whisper before the woman refocuses on us. "According to her picture, Rikka Watson is Caucasian. You guys are obviously not related to her, so you need to leave. If you don't, you'll be arrested for trespassing."

The only thing I can decipher from this gibberish is the word arrested. That could turn into a real headache. With my eyes, I signal Cassum that it's time to go. Andrenior still has this stubborn twist on his lips, but when my sister nudges him in the back, he moves toward the exit. Outside the building, I sit down on a small wall by the steps. Time to realign.

Cassum stares at the revolving front door we just walked through. "What does Caucasian mean?"

If wish I knew. "Beats me."

"I think that's how humans separate themselves by their skin tone," Andrenior offers.

Why would anyone do that? "For what purpose?"

He shrugs. It's the only thing he seems to be good at. "I only know it's a huge deal for them. I had tons of issues because my skin is darker."

Whatever the reason, it's stupid. Skin is like fur—who cares about the color.

Cassum clicks her tongue. "I still don't understand why we can't be related to her."

"Yeah, I never got humans. That's why I don't like to mix with them." I glare at the building. Somewhere behind one of those windows is the solution to Raelyn's problems. It drives me nuts that I'm still not any closer to getting her help than I was when I left her at the healer's cabin. Was that really only four days ago? Seems like an eternity. "What should we do now?"

Andrenior grins. "Time for plan B, but I tell you upfront, it's a little risky."

~~~~

© Sally Mason 2018

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