Chapter 27: Bianca - Touch - Change

Bianca
Touch

I was blinded by the stars still swirling behind my eyes, and I grasped at the fingers twisting in my hair.

A roar echoed through the room, and my world spun by in a flurry of color and light as the force threw me from it, and I crash-landed against a wall.

I fell to the floor, and the ground hummed with the sounds of moving machinery.

“Get away from her!” Titus raged, but I still couldn’t see him. It was impossible to make out anything in my dazed state other than wavering shadows and purposeful steps moving in my direction.

“Where the hell is Jameson?” The dragon snarled. “Even he isn’t this stupid.”

Shiny brown shoes stopped in front of my face and grey-covered knees touched the floor. A white shirt flashed in my vision, but I was still too disoriented to fully take in the stranger’s blurry features.

“Is she your mate?” The newcomer didn’t answer Titus’s question, and, at the dragon’s silence to his query, he swung his heavy fist down, catching me against my ear and causing my head to bounce from the floor in a tooth-rattling hit.

“You son of a bitch!” Titus—whom I’d never heard lose his control—was beginning to sound quite deranged. My vision had entirely blacked out at this point as dizziness made it hard to focus as my stomach recoiled dangerously.

A rough hand closed over my arm as I was dragged up until my back was pressed against the intruder’s unforgiving form. My body felt like lead and my toes barely brushed across the floor—the courage and strength I’d mustered up to come here was finally gone.

“I’m going to ask one more time,” the man continued. “Otherwise, it’ll go worse for her.” One of his arms was wrapped around my stomach in a tight hold, and the light pressure of cold, thin metal pressed across my neck.

A knife.

My pulse soared with panic as my fingers dug into the unrelenting man’s arm. I’d almost died the last time this happened. I would never forget the feeling of helplessness, of being tied down and left at the mercy of a power-hungry sociopath who split open my neck and tried to eat my heart.

“Is she your mate?” the man asked again. “I’ve never seen you this emotional.”

“Yes.” The venom was heavy in Titus’s reply. “And if you hurt her again, it won’t end well for you. Put her down if you don’t want to die.”

“You already plan on killing me anyway,” the man replied. Thankfully the pressure against my neck vanished, but when his hand returned, he’d pressed his forearm across my chest, wrapping his hand under my chin. Fingers dug into my cheek, turning my face so he could see me. My vision was finally clearing, and stern, freckled features came into focus. He had dark orange hair and a face that seemed almost familiar.

“My nephew said you’re married to Bryce Dubois,” he frowned, addressing me. “He seemed certain you weren’t significant. That’s why Jameson wasn’t concerned. But with you being Ducharme’s mate… That changes things. How are you worthy? And why would Dubois be okay with this?”

“It’s not like he can stop it,” Titus snarled.

I wanted to look at him, to make sure he was okay—especially after everything that had just happened with Belial—but I couldn’t tear my eyes from the man holding me.

Or maybe I just zoned out while looking at the mirror. Maybe everything before this was only a dream?

“No,” the stranger continued, lips thinning and eyes flashing as he spoke to Titus. “It doesn’t make sense. You’d only be mated with someone with officer-level strength, unlikely enough as it might be, or someone stronger…” His words trailed off as he released my chin and, before I could even suck in a breath, grabbed the neck of my shirt and pulled, popping the buttons until the last of the cloth ripped away.

Titus shouted and I clawed at his arms, but my feeble attempts at a protest didn’t even phase my attacker. My head spun as he hooked his finger under the front clasp of my bra and pulled up, fully exposing my breasts.

“Mu…” His awestruck whisper sounded louder than Titus’s enraged bellow and I twisted against his arm, trying to escape. But he was unmovable as he traced his finger over the mark. His touch was almost gentle, despite his unforgiving hold, but the feel of his skin over mine made the hair on the back of my neck stand and my throat closed tighter.

This was not like the others touching me. While I’d been nervous with them, their hands were warm, safe, and familiar.

But this… It was cold and scary, making my stomach knot and my head spin.

“Norman lied to me,” the man frowned. “He has to know.”

“I’m going to tear out your eyes and rip off your hands!” Titus’s teeth had sharped, and his eyes glowed a bright crimson. He continued to pull at his chains but remained imprisoned. “You’re dead!”

“So, your mate is Mu,” the man began breathlessly, ignoring Titus’s threats.

Titus suddenly stopped struggling, though his posture remained tense, and his focus was trained entirely on the man holding me. “If you let her go now, I’ll make your death as painless as I possibly can.”

“Which wouldn’t be painless at all, judging from the look on your face. Don’t try to bargain, it’s beneath you.” My kidnapper didn’t sound perturbed. “Besides, I’m not worried about you escaping. We have more leverage than you can even imagine, and now there’s this. It’d be one thing if she was just your mate, but she’s Mu. The four of you will have no choice but to work with us.”

“Stop touching her.” Titus narrowed his eyes.

His voice had begun to take on a tone of heady excitement, and he continued to disregard Titus’s warning. “Even completely ignoring you’d be bringing more dragons into this world, there’s also the lot of you to consider.” He didn’t seem to notice the temperature of the room dropping. “How much do you think people will pay for this kind of information… or for her? She’s priceless enough without any of you.”

“She’s not an object!” Titus roared, and with those words, the dragon jumped forward, rushing the two of us as he swung his arms in front of him, ripping the chains from the ceiling.

My captor leaped back, dropping me, and I fell to the ground as Titus swung his arms around, throwing the chain back like a lasso.

The chain swung forward, and Titus grunted, face contorted in concentration, he aimed at the man rushing for the door.

The links whipped through the air, and the redhead fell to the ground with a crash and shout, his arms trapped at his side.

Titus was in no hurry, and slowly stalked through the room toward the man, the other end of the chain dragging along the floor behind him with a loud, screeching echo.

“I warned you, Albert.” Titus was almost standing on the man now, and the scary calm of his voice shot shivers down my spine. His back was to me, so I could no longer see his face, but his tone was lazy and aloof, and his shoulders relaxed as he lifted a boot-covered foot and pressed it against the man’s shoulder, forcing him to roll onto his back.

Albert jerked with the motion, trying to squirm away. “How the hell did you get out?”

But Titus continued with that same scary calmness, not answering the man’s question. “Now,” he said, dropping a chain and holding up his hand. His fingers seemed longer somehow, nails sharper. “I’ve made you a promise, and if there’s nothing else about me that’s true, it’s that I’m an honest man.”

Before I could even blink, or think to look away, Titus had moved. He struck downward, kneeling to the ground as he jabbed his fingers directly into Albert’s eyes.

The man screamed, blood gushing from the wound as Titus retracted his fingers. The red mingled with his hair and dyed the bright orange, crimson.

“I told you to stop touching her,” Titus continued without mercy. Albert’s arms were restrained against his thighs, and Titus reached for a hand, squeezing Albert's fingers in a white-knuckled grip. “And you just couldn’t listen,” Titus punctuated, ignoring Albert’s pleading as he crushed the man’s bones. The popping crack sounded loud through the room, followed swiftly by the man’s wail.

“And now you get to die.” Titus moved slowly, methodologically, as he wrapped the chain around the weeping man’s neck. And this time, as the dragon slowly stood, swinging the chain over his shoulder, I buried my face against the floor and covered my ears.

But even though I tried to block it out, I could still hear the muffled sounds of breaking bones.

Thankfully, though, it only lasted a second, and then there was silence.

“Bianca.” A warm hand pressed against my shoulder. The world spun as I met his eyes. The fire and fury were gone from his posture, and even though he looked like a madman with his hair free and blood coating him, his fingers were gentle.

There was a question written in Titus’s expression, and his brows furrowed as his fingers trailed down to my elbow.

“You’re shaking,” he said, the first hint of uncertainty entering his voice.

Was I? Maybe it was from the freezing floor.

He hesitated another second, then his lips thinned as a certain resolution caused his posture to shift, and he leaned forward, pulling me into his lap.

This was nice. It was so much warmer here, with my ear resting against the dragon and his arms around me. But still, I doubted anything would chase away the chill that had settled deep in my bones. Would this lightheadedness ever go away?

Calloused fingers pressed down my arm. “Are you okay?” he asked.

That was a loaded question, and one that I really should probably answer. His heart was beating so quickly—he was probably worried sick.

But my lips were numb, and I was so ready for this adventure to be over.

I just wanted a nice, hot bath, some of Miles’s snickerdoodle cookies, and a long nap.

Maybe I’d be okay after that.

Titus ran his fingers through my hair, touching the back of my head, and even the slight pressure was a sharp reminder of the continuously cresting and ebbing headache that plagued me.

His touch lightened even further as he sucked in a breath, and his pulse thrummed wildly under my cheek. “Julian…” he muttered, holding me against him princess-style as he lifted me off the ground. “Need to get to Julian.”

Yeah, Julian. That’d be nice. I missed him.

“Let’s go,” Titus was half-talking to me, half-muttering to himself. “I need to get you out of here. Somewhere safe.”

Safe.

Was there anywhere like that anymore?

I closed my eyes, resting against him as he moved through the room and pushed the creaky door open with his hip and stepped into the dark hallway. His fingers remained tangled in my hair—pressed against the back of my neck—as he moved purposefully. Vaguely, I found myself wondering if he knew how to fly a plane.

That’d be useful right about now.

“Yes,” he muttered, still looking forward into the dark. “If it’s the right kind.”

I pressed my nose closer to him, curling my fingers into the barely-there remains of his shirt. He was still so warm, and I was cold.

A few steps later we moved into a new area—another cargo space, from the looks of it. Unlike the other, which had been empty besides Titus and the magical items that kept him prisoner, and dimly lit, this one had a row of windows and single rows of seats lining the walls under them. Half the room was filled, too, with some of the same small and medium-sized shipment containers that’d been stacked throughout the storage facility before.

Titus stepped toward one, touching the bottom of the crate with his toe as he glowered at it. “Drugs.” But the look vanished and a grim determination lined his face. “That’s something to deal with later,” he said, looking around the room. “It’s not important. First, let’s take care of you.”

Me? More important than drug trafficking?

My attention remained riveted to the box he’d been scrutinizing as he weaved through the room, making his way to some of the cushioned chairs. He set me in one, and it took almost a second-too long for him to move away from me—but wasn’t quite long enough either.

I’d felt cared for and almost at peace in his arms, but now that he was slowly backing away, my anxiety and fear began to come rushing back.

I didn’t even realize I still held on to his shirt until his fingers closed around my fist. “It’s okay, Princess,” he said, squeezing gently. “I don’t want to leave you either. But just let me just look, then I’ll kick out the pilot and we’ll be out of here.”

My attention wandered to the emergency exit beside us, and Titus followed my line of sight.

His grip tightened. “Let’s not jump out of any airplanes today,” his voice was light, but I could hear the underlying plea. “I’m not going to be much help there. This is quite a bit higher than I can leap.”

But…

My chest swelled with an unspoken argument.

He could fly. He could. I didn’t understand how, but I knew this.

But for some reason, he wouldn’t.

“Bianca, look at me.” Titus’s plea was a command that I couldn’t ignore, and I obeyed. He tended to me while the hum of the airplane engines sounded in the background, lulling me deeper into a dissociative state, and knelt between my knees as his hands gently pressed against my face and arms.

I was shivering, but that made no sense—I was no longer cold, and he paused in his ministrations. His eyebrows drew together as his green eyes flashed. Without hesitation, he shrugged off what was left of his shirt—leaving himself only in an undershirt—as he attempted to wrap me in the once-white garment.

The silk felt smooth against my painful, stretched skin, and I pulled it tighter.

“Bianca…” His petting motions stopped as his touch moved down my arms, down my torso and legs, and I glanced at him, noticing that his attention was riveted to my chest.

It wasn’t like I’d been hiding it much before either, but things had calmed down quite a bit since then.

I held the shirt out and looked down to see what might have caught his attention—it certainly wasn’t my breasts, since my bra was now covering me again—and a breath hitched in my throat as the corners of my vision turned black.

Dark purple, red, and blue marks ran over the entirety of my skin.

I pulled the garment to me, wrapping my arms around my stomach, and squeezed my eyes shut.

But that didn’t stop Titus’s explorations. His gentle touch moved lower, and his fingers lightly traced along my leg—along the hem of my skirt. It, too, was ripped in places, and my dark tights—once completely run-free—were barely held-together remains at the result of the day’s events.

He had to have a general idea of what happened—he’d said he could smell them; he’d asked if they were dead.

But it hadn’t felt real until now.

I’d almost been raped.

I thought that part of my life was over.

Right now, there were other things to focus on, but I couldn’t.

It wasn’t working anymore. I couldn’t think of anything else. Which was entirely stupid, because nothing did happen in the end.

I’d gotten away.

So why did it feel the same?

A sob hitched in my throat as the final thread that was holding my sanity in place, snapped.

But then I couldn’t breathe as his arms closed around me, pulling me into the suffocating cage of his embrace. “I’m sorry.”

I opened my eyes, his apology shocking me out of my thoughts, as my fingers gripped at his upper arm. It was impossible to make out my surroundings outside of the slightly shaking shadows on the ceiling because of the way he was holding me, but I didn’t need to see anything.

He would keep me safe now.

“This shouldn’t have happened,” his voice rumbled low against my neck.

But that wasn’t right. Nothing happened, really.

So why was I acting this way? I didn’t understand.

“You have every right to be upset,” Titus continued as he moved his right arm from my shoulders, rubbing his hand lightly down the center of my back. “And I’m sorry you had to take care of it on your own.”

My grip tightened, and the tight noose that had been wrapped around my heart loosened.

“But I’m proud of you,” he said, the sincerity of his voice winding its way down through the broken recesses of my thoughts. “You did good.”

Even though he really didn’t have any idea what I might have or might not have done, I couldn’t help but feel a little bit better at his words. The heavy darkness began to lighten, and my vision blurred.

So… did that mean it was okay? I was okay?

But I wasn’t. It wasn’t fine at all. So why wasn’t he treating me any different?

“There you are.” Jameson’s almost-bored accusation overturned the beginnings of my newfound peace. My vision cleared, and I could see him, lazily watching us from the open doorway from where we entered the room. “I was beginning to think that maybe you did jump, after all.”

Dread caused my breath to choke in the back of my throat, and—before I even realized that I’d moved—I buried my face into Titus’s shirt, almost clawing at him to escape the onmyoji’s notice.

Titus, on the other hand, grew silent and still as stone. He was still touching my back, but where a moment before his aura had been soft and comforting, now something powerful and menacing began to radiate from him.

But not toward me, and instead of being scared, my hysteria vanished.

“What exactly did you do to her?” His voice was a scary calm that might have once shocked me, but not now.

Not after everything else.

“Why’s she scared of you?” he asked, now hiding me from the onmyoji’s sight. “Were you the one who issued that spell?”

“It’s just a little spell, but you know I’m no witch, so I’m not sure what she has against me,” Jameson coolly replied. “We’ve only just become acquainted a day ago. Surely it’s not enough time to formulate a lasting impression.” He was silent a moment longer before adding, “But that does make me wonder, why are you so enamored with Bryce Dubois’s wife?”

Something in his words set Titus off, and he growled low in this throat before leaning forward, tucking me further into the space between the emergency exit and the seat and moving to his feet. He put his back to me, acting as a shield between us.

“Fuck off, Jameson.” His voice was still a scary calm. “Before you cross my last nerve, I’m giving you one chance to surrender, reroute this plane, and turn yourself in to the council for judgement.”

“That’s not going to happen.” Jameson laughed. “I’ll die either way, so I might as well make it on my own terms.”

“Fine.” Titus’s arms were tense at his side, his fingers splayed wide, and before his one-word sentence had even completed, he’d leapt toward the onmyoji.

But even though his movements had been quick and he’d struck purposefully, Jameson was still agile enough to sidestep the dragon’s strike, leaping into the air and landing on top of one of the storage crates.

I could see the weakness in Titus’s form almost instantly. It hadn’t been obvious with Albert, who’d been taken by surprise at Titus’s sudden escape, but Jameson was more prepared. The dragon was slower than I’d expected from him, and already breathing heavily. Although I had no doubt that it was partially due to fury and an untamed mind, it was obvious that his own ordeal had sapped the strength from him.

Jameson, meanwhile, didn’t look tired at all. His grin was wide and his stride confident as his attention moved over the dragon. His voice was a low, smug taunt. “You’re looking a little haggard there, Ducharme. Maybe Albert was a better fight than I thought he’d be.”

“Albert was nothing,” Titus growled low in his throat, and he crouched low, hand touching the top of the crate. “And neither are you.”

This time when Titus jumped to him, he did manage to strike the onmyoji with a well-placed uppercut, but barely. His posture shifted at the last moment, and he nearly stumbled after landing shakily on his feet.

When Jameson stumbled back against the door, hand to his face, his confident expression faltered slightly. “So you do have some fight left.” He frowned at the dragon. “However, do you honestly think you can make it much longer?”

The last of my resolve faded as guilt and anxiety weighed on me. Titus wasn’t backing down—in fact, his posture was fully confident, and he seemed more determined than ever—but I could see the worry in the lines of his face.

This would be a great time for Mu to pop up once more, offering me his infinite wisdom and kick-butt fighting services, but that familiar feeling that I’d come to associate with an eventual Mu-takeover was not present.

My thoughts were still scattered and my senses dull. In fact, at the moment I wasn’t even sure I could sense a spirit. The cloudiness that’d always existed in my thoughts was presently gone, and despite hating the feeling for so long, I found I missed it.

Without my abilities, what was left? I was useless.

Jameson and Titus had clashed once more—Titus trying to kick his opponent’s legs from under him, and Jameson side-stepped it, punching Titus in the ribs. Both fell back, taking up defensive stances as they faced each other. Jameson was elegant and poised while Titus’s stance was animalistic savagery.

Meanwhile I remained in the place where Titus had tucked me away, in between the two men.

“There’s nowhere to go,” Jameson said, inclining his head toward the door behind us. “You’ll never make it to the cockpit before I stop you. You leave now, and I’ll go after her. And once we land, it’s over. Just give up.”

“Fuck you, Jameson.” Titus lowered his head and glared at the dark-haired onmyoji. “You think you’re winning now? But you have no idea how badly you screwed yourself. Your own quintet will be after you with this.”

The onmyoji paused, swiftly glancing at me, piercing into me, before he returned his attention back to the dragon, frowning. “I’m not afraid of Dubois.”

“You should be.” Titus smirked in response, but his smile wavered as, in an unexpected move, his opponent dropped his arms back to his side and relaxed his shoulders.

“You’re tired and weak,” Jameson said smoothly. “And I don’t have time to deal with you anymore. It’s time to act like the obedient animal that you are and go back to your cell.”

My heart pounded in apprehension at the uncertain look on Titus’s face and the way that his posture shifted from confident reassurance to wariness within a blink. But before the dragon could even speak, a shrill whistle cut through the air.

Titus froze entirely, staring at the onmyoji, and my teeth began to chatter.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Titus said as he shook his head. His doubt faded and his features turned to stone as he retook his stance. “I’m still stronger than you.”

Jameson had raised his arm in the air, and gray smoke slowly moved across the ground as he grinned at the dragon. “Usually,” he agreed, white teeth flashing. “But not right now. And you can’t shift without risking her, it’s not a stable atmosphere.”

A falcon flew down from the ceiling, circling the room before landing on Jameson’s outstretched arm. He rounded on Titus, nodding, “Get him.”

The shikigami didn’t need any further urging, and it leapt into the air, massive wings spread.

Titus!

I’d half-risen to my knees, panic racing through me, as Titus jumped back, only just missing the falcon’s sharp talons.

I felt sick, watching Titus do his best to evade the bird and refocus on Jameson.

Was there nothing I could do to help? These weren’t spirits like I’d worked with in the past. I had no control over shikigami.

That was Damen’s job.

“Summon me.”

The world fell from under my feet Kiania’s voice sounded in my head. It’d been quite a while since I’d heard her speak to me in this way. Where had she been?

“I’ve been here the whole time,” she said. “I’ve stayed back out of respect for Mu—you’ve had to learn how to work together—but he can’t help you right now. He’s still regaining his strength. Summon me.”

I touched my fingers to my lips. Me, summon a shikigami? It wasn’t possible.

“You have once already,” she said, which made no sense at all.

But my focus shifted as Titus ducked down, barely escaping the swooping falcon’s snapping beak. Jameson, in the meantime, stood victoriously some feet from me. Not even considering me at all in this fight. He stood arrogant and proud, already posing for victory.

Could I summon Kiania?

Yes. I didn’t have any other choice.

I put my fingers against my mouth, whistling the way I’d seen other onmyoji do. I’d had no instruction manual on how this worked—this wasn’t even supposed to be my thing—so all I could do was hope. I visualized Kiania in my thoughts, praying with every ounce of my being that she wasn’t wrong.

All sound stopped and, through the dense fog, Jameson finally looked in my direction.

“What the—” he began, but his question was cut off as a white tiger leapt out from the mists, standing between us.

But Kiania only stood for an instant, ears perked and tail curling, as she blinked once in acknowledgement before railing after the other shikigami.

“How did you do that?” Jameson suddenly moved in my direction; his eyes blazed in fury.

I was frozen in the face of his sweeping anger, and I could only stare at death as it bore down on me.

Then Titus was there, a solid force shielding me from the onmyoji’s glare, and I was pressed to his back, his hand wrapped around my wrist as I was trapped in an impenetrable place between the wall and the dragon’s body.

“You’re still dealing with me, Jameson,” Titus said. “Leave her out of it.”

“Don’t give me that shit. She just summoned a shikigami!” Jameson replied. “Finn Abernathy’s shikigami! And I want to know how.”

“How is none of your concern.” Titus sounded eerily calm, especially considering he probably didn’t understand any of this more than me. The only indication of his confusion was the slight tightening of his fingers.

“Who is she?” Despite Titus’s warning, Jameson didn’t seem ready to let the subject drop. Besides the ongoing conversation, the shikigami were quieting.

The battle between them had been anticlimactic and short lived—which made me wonder just how strong Kiania was.

However, Kiania didn’t speak to me again, nor come further to our assistance. Instead, even without seeing, I knew she’d left. The tight pressure against my chest loosened, and my fingertips no longer tingled.

And I might have been insanely tired, or just overwhelmed from the day, but for the first time in a while, I was beginning to feel slightly more normal.

Titus sucked in his breath—readying a response—when the plane suddenly lurched. The unexpected turbulence threw us off-balance. I fell backward, squished between Titus and the wall, and my face pressed against the hard metal.

“It’s fine.” Titus’s words were a whisper of reassurance, and I cracked my eyes open—not even realizing I’d closed them. He’d braced his arms on either side of my head, as he lowered his forehead to touch mine. “You’ve enough to worry about. Let me just kill him first, and then I’ll get you home. Can you hold on a little while longer?”

Hold on?

It might not even be a concern anymore. In fact, I wasn’t feeling quite so bad at all. My head was starting to clear—and something I’d once considered to be the constant haze of my thoughts, I now welcomed.

I didn’t even have to question. I could still sense ghosts—if necessary, of course.

Still, my skin prickled, and my stomach was still tied in knots. I was tired, and, for a little while at least, I just wanted to let someone else do the worrying.

I swallowed once. Titus said he’d take care of this—we’d be okay.

“Kill him?” Jameson’s disbelieving question rang through the air, cutting over even the sounds of the engine. “You’re the one at a disadvantage! We’re landing soon, and you’re completely outnumbered—even with any other surprises she might have up her sleeve.”

“I don’t care about anyone else.” Titus’s expression had shifted from soft to stone in an instant, and he moved from me. “I’ll take care of them when the time comes. Right now, I want you.”

I’d grasped Titus’s arm and peeked around the dragon. The onmyoji was staring at the man in front of me, and, slowly, his victorious smirk faded into an expression of doubt and slight fear.

“It’s not going to matter,” he told Titus, his squared shoulders lowering slightly. The plane roared around me. “You’re still going to be captured again.”

Titus stepped forward and I dropped my hand from his arm, wrapping my fingers, instead, around a belt buckle. “That’s for me to worry about,” the dragon answered, his stride purposeful and confident. He closed the distance between the two of them. “And, in time, everyone involved will die slow, painful deaths. But for now, I’m satisfied.”

He’d crouched as the end of the threat passed his lips, and then jumped at the onmyoji, hands outstretched to grab him; but the onmyoji was already waiting for an attack, and leapt over a row of seats, making his way to the opposite end of the cabin.

“Then that’s the way it has to be.” Jameson frowned at Titus, watching as the dragon straightened his stance. He twisted his left hand in another belt, reaching inside his jacket. He looked at me, and his hard features sent a chill down my spine, and my fingers tightened on the strap.

“It’s a shame we’ll never know what, exactly, you are,” he said.

My head spun and my world shifted as something pulled at me, and a large crash echoed over my ears as—at the same instant, the cold surface I’d been pressed against was gone.

The wind was knocked from me as I was thrown some feet away, crashing into the pile of olive backpacks, as an explosion rocked through the space.

I couldn’t breathe, and I looked back—Titus stood where I’d been, regaining his balance as he moved to leap away himself. But he stumbled, dizzy, as he was suddenly caught in the path of fire and sound.

Everything happened so fast.

The emergency exit door was blown away. Deafening winds whipped through the cabin, pulling at my clothes and hair. But I was safe enough here, far from the opening. However, Titus—who stood exactly where I’d been—didn’t fare quite so well.

I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. One second, he was there, and the next, gone.