Paragon

⊰❉⊱ 50 ⊰❉⊱

I roamed the lower floor of the aircraft for the next hour. I made myself disinterested and swiped a magazine from an unsuspecting seat table before leaning outside one of the bathroom stalls. Many mortal scents flickered by me in the tightly packed cabin.

Heartbeats and heat. Quiet murmuring and snoring.

A few low lights on for the night owl readers but the aisles were mostly empty as it neared the early hours of the morning London time.

It went like this as I conducted the same action further down the plane and again on the upper floor. I flashed a steward my business ticket and she welcomed me with a smile into the upper deck bar. I scanned the mortals that drank and chatted. I even ordered a drink I did not consume. I had covered every row of the aircraft but for first class and not a single slow heartbeat stood out to me. Not one with a penetrating ring of gold that threatened to take me off this flight thousands of feet below without a second thought.

I sighed slowly through my nose and let the tang of gin float up to greet me. I took a plush chair by the nearest free window and contemplated the next eight hours of flight time. Perhaps they hadn't had enough time to get one of their own on this flight.

That played to our advantage–but not for long. I sure as hell wasn't naive enough to believe they wouldn't have an immortal waiting for us when we touched down on the continent.

I felt a few curious glances that were longer than polite run over me. A flickering pulse sensing that immortal, enticing beauty. The men were the most obvious. The women more subtle and masked. It wasn't until one of such mortals sat opposite me regarding her own window, that I broke my solitude gaze off the night sky.

She was a professional.

Business wear and a travel bag to match. Expensive watch and perfume. Her hair piled in trademark corporate waves. But that is where the familiarities ended. Her hair was blonde, her eyes a sharp blue and cheekbones to compliment it–she knew she was beautiful. Remarkable women often did seek solace among other remarkable women if only to blend in for a moment.

I resisted a smirk and returned my eyes to the skies.

She drew out a laptop onto the table and scanned the glow a moment. So much for my own solitude from mortals. They had to take their work wherever they went–

"Apologies." 

I glanced at her face over the laptop. "–For this. It's the best place to get the wifi on board."

"It's no issue." I answered, tilting the glass and listening to the clink of ice. "I was not staying long."

She arched a brow and glanced at the untouched drink.

"Evidently not up to taste." She quipped, eyeing her screen again.

I smirked darkly out the window. "You could say that."

The only taste I desired was that of Quinn Adams' lips. Those summer green eyes and quick wit. The mortal opposite me was delightfully dedicated to her work. I savoured the low quiet, careful murmurs and clicks of keys. It set my mind into a calm I hadn't had for a few days. It let my mind wander and plan ahead.

It let me think of the heat and rainforests of South America. Of finding a beautiful patch of land with no name and communication with the rest of the world and exploring it with Quinn. The beaches were extraordinary and the wildlife stunning... The locals were welcoming unless you crossed the drug cartels but even then–everyone had a price or negotiating point. They would be no danger to us.

"Would you mind if I took a seat with my friend?" A low voice asked.

My thoughts ripped out of my fantasy and landed on the suited culprit.