Page 24 of Toward Immortal Ruin

Nero gave her a devilish grin. “Then it’s a good thing we’ve got a long flight ahead of us.”

The excitement that suddenly pinged through Eden echoed through Nero’s abilities, and nothing could please him more. He actively enjoyed listening to his mate. Of course, he’d witnessed the horrors of human medieval torture methods first-hand, but if she wanted to tell him more about it, he’d be all ears. She could repeat the same sentence over and over again for hours and he would still love every word.

“I’ll get my PowerPoint ready.”

***

Nero had never been on a plane before. All the compartments and the narrow, cramped spaces were claustrophobic, even in the supposedly luxurious seating offered by the private jet.

Teleportation was far more efficient and comfortable, in his opinion.

“Your colleague must be well off to afford such a nice plane,” Eden muttered, obviously impressed as she rested back in the vanilla-colored leather chair. Beside her, fast asleep in her crate, was Marianne.

Nero nodded. “Rona has certainly done well for herself. She owns a plot on Maui with a gorgeous beach, and her husband owns property in Iowa. I’d have to say though: Iowa versus Hawaii is no comparison.”

“There’s a joke in there somewhere about Illinois from Hawaii, but I’ll refrain,” she quipped. “I’m so excited to see Oahu. It’s always been a bucket list destination.”

“It won’t disappoint, cross my heart and hope to step in front of a bus.”

“I think you’re taking the bucket list too literally, Coffee Shop Cutie. Let’s keep the city bus out of it.” She winked at him. “And I’ll take your word for it—at least until we get there.”

In that moment, Key’s vision of them on the plane shot to the forefront of his mind, reminding him of what’d happen during this trip. Outside, the plane’s massive engines roared to a start, and nervous anxiety began to seep into him.

Sucking in a breath and grabbing at the hand rests, he closed his eyes, imagining himself anywhere but here. He was happy to take on any invading force who endangered his people, step in front of a bullet to protect those he loved, or fend off literal rabid wolves. Something about traveling forty-thousand feet above the ground in a precarious tin can seemed to be his undoing.

“Nervous flyer?”

Eden’s soft question prompted him to open his eyes. “Yeah.”

“Living on Hawaii, I’d have thought you fly a ton.” Her expression shifted to palpable concern. “Is it always like this for you or is it exacerbated by being worried?”

He swallowed harshly. “Flying in a giant metal box with wings is generally a problem for me.”

“How do you usually get off the island, then?”

“I just close my eyes and tap my heels together, professor.”

She laughed it off, clearly assuming he was joking. Truth was stranger than fiction. All thoughts exited his mind as the engines roared again, and the tiny wheels below them began moving. Heart thumping in his chest, Nero’s grip on the leather seat tightened, and he had to consciously remind himself that he needed to maintain a semblance of normalcy.

That meant not breaking the flimsy armrest in half.

As they put on speed and began climbing into the atmosphere, Eden’s palm slipped over his hand. Gently, she tugged upward. When he gave in to her ask, her fingers threaded through his, locking them together in reassurance.

“How familiar are you with medieval torture devices?”

He frowned at her. “Well, I’ve never experienced one personally.” But he had seen them in action more than once.

“Let’s count that as a personal success.” She squeezed his hand. “I’ve studied them at length, and I still cringe every time I hear some of them described. Would you like to cringe, Nero?”

In that moment, he knew exactly what she was doing: getting his mind off his fear. “I would definitely like to cringe.”

“Good. We’ll start with the Rack.”

“This sounds painful.”

The roar of the engine and the forward momentum had him momentarily panicking, his hand tightening around hers. She didn’t let go, gently squeezing and setting his anxiety back a step.

“The Rack was a pleasant little table designed to give the victim a bit of a stretch. Someone would be strapped down, and ropes would be tied around their limbs.” She reached across and trailed a finger across his wrist. “They would slowly pull those ropes tighter, and I’m certain you can figure out what happened next.”

---