The Story of the Trees - Sword, Ring, and Crown Book One

Chapter Seven

I felt a gentle shaking that slowly eased me out of that twilight consciousness that comes when someone knocks you out. I opened my eyes to find that someone was staring at me. Beautiful aquamarine eyes with bursts of golden stars around each pupil dazzled me briefly until the throbbing of my head informed me all was not right.

I winced from the pain, and my gaze dropped to study the person's mouth. His bottom lip was fuller than his top lip. And his top lip had a slight bow to it. Long, pale hair framed his face as he bent forward, the lips quirking into a smile. Too close. Once my brainstem finally reestablished a painful connection to my senses, I realized he had my head pillowed in the crook of his arm.

I rolled over and landed on a carpeted floor. Then I slid as far away from him as my circumstances would allow me. As I held up my fists defensively, I scanned my surroundings. Next to the pale man was a small window where I could see only the blue sky from my vantage point. I was on an airplane. I also wasn't in any pain, other than the headache. I pulled up my shirt and examined my side. It was healed.

The first thing I thought about was, "Adrian!"

"Alive," aquamarine eyes said.

"Alive?" Relief flooded me. The way he hit the glass, and the way he was so bloody, that was a miracle. 

"Yes. Enan is a minor healer, and Keenan can manipulate the air. He's still injured, but not in danger."

I wouldn't express any appreciation. Adrian wouldn't have needed rescuing if not for them.

I pulled myself off of the floor and onto a soft beige leather couch that arched softly with the contour of the airplane's wall. There were stylish recessed lights overhead and four captain's chairs also covered in soft beige facing the couch. Twin men occupied two of the four chairs. They both bore marks from the beating I gave them, and I congratulated myself. The man on the left was more damaged than the man on the right, who only sported some bruises on his face. The man on the right must have been who I punched. I named him Tweedle Dee. The twin that had the uncomfortable road rash I dubbed Tweedle Dum. He had an enormous bruise between his eyebrows from the cherry Coke can I'd thrown. Guess I wasn't a murderer for knocking him out of the van—small comfort. I guess these men were Enan and Keenan but I didn't know who was who, so I decided to keep my names for them.

Tweedle Dee had impressive eyebrows. The brows made thick slashes over murderous-looking, amber-colored eyes. I returned his glare while I swallowed my cowardice down. It was easier to be combative while I was still raging; now that I was cornered with three large men, my ability to get any hand, let alone an upper one, had been reduced to none.

Then I turned towards the one that had been holding me and gave him a haughty stare until I recognized who he was. When I realized it, I launched myself at him with a scream, turning into a dervish of hands, elbows, and teeth. 

Despite a few good punches and kicks, my captor twisted my arms behind me, denying my second murder attempt.

"Erick!" I growled as I struggled in his grip. "How dare you touch me, you pig, you traitor!"

The pig clenched his teeth as he held me easily with one hand. "If you keep struggling like that, I will zip tie you to the chair. We don't need an air accident on the way to our destination."

I continued to wriggle in his grasp until Tweedle Dee got up and pulled a zip tie out of a bag. When I saw it, I scoffed at the twin but nodded my surrender. My traitor released me, and I returned to the couch opposite him. Then, Erick offered me a can of ginger ale from the mini-fridge.

I reached out and grabbed it, then chucked it to my left. It hit the back of Tweedle Dum's chair, then fell and rolled around on the ground. Finally, it stopped against the white coffee table in the center of the airplane. Tweedle Dee, who'd just sat down again,  stood up and spun around. I noted the homicide in his eyes had spread to the rest of his face.