Love Hurts (Eternal Flames Book 12) Page 11
Ireland gasped as he heard a familiar voice. He stopped crying and listened but didn’t hear it again. In his grief he thought he could hear Flyer, but he was wrong. It was probably wishful thinking, but suddenly he heard the voice again.
Ireland reached his paws up and rubbed them against his eyes trying to clear his vision, then he stuck his nose out of the opening and peered around.
“What’s the matter, asshole, porcupine got your tongue? No wait that was your hand,” Flyer’s voice came to him and Ireland could hear his mate laugh. There followed a smacking sound right before Flyer cursed.
“Shut the fuck up and get moving,” one of the men said.
Ireland scurried around the tree, but stayed hidden, only his little face moved around. His eyes widened when he saw the other guard with his hand clutching Flyer’s uninjured arm as he walked him away through the woods. The guard he had escaped from followed them, with his weapon in one hand, pointed at Flyer, and his other hand was wrapped in what looked like a dark coat.
Shit. He had thought Flyer was dead, but his mate was alive. He had left him there alone to deal with these crazy, sick, bastards. He was such a bad mate. Damn it, he needed to do something, but what?
Ireland waited until they were just out of sight, then he quickly moved further along and ducked behind a boulder to watch them again. He kept this up through the woods until they finally stepped out just where the tree line ended by the docks.
He watched as the two guys pushed Flyer into the plane and noticed the man wearing the suit was sitting inside, in the co-pilot seat and the pilot was pressing buttons and hitting switches. Shit, they were about to take off and take Flyer with them.
Ireland suddenly realized that everything else had gone quiet. He turned his head to look toward the cave entrance and saw there was no one there. Everyone had gone. What the hell happened?
Just as the question entered his mind, he heard the suit guy talk to the guards. “The others have forced Wells’ team into the cave, they’re tracking them now. Go join them and take care of the rats. They don’t know the layout down there like you do and they’ll never find their way through that tunnel system. I want them all dead, except for Wells. I want him alive and brought to me at my home. In the meantime, I’ll keep his little friend here for safe keeping, then make Wells watch as I slowly flay the skin from his bones. We’ll use him as a warning to any other do-gooder people out there who think they can defeat me.”
“Yes, Don Bharrat,” the two said together, then turned and took off toward the caves.
Damn it. Ireland needed to stop that plane somehow before Flyer was really gone from him forever. But what about the other guys? Ireland turned and looked back toward the cave, then at the plane. The plane’s engines started, and his decision was made. He had to have faith that Wade, Suneth, and their men knew what they were doing and could take care of themselves, but his mate needed help. Ireland could see that Flyer now had his hands tied behind his back and his feet tied together as he sat on the floor of the plane, and without being able to see either, Flyer couldn’t defend himself.
The propellers began spinning faster and the seaplane moved forward slightly. Ireland ran from the tree line and quickly made his four little feet scurry quickly across the dock. Just as he reached the plane it moved again. Ireland ran beside it for a few feet, then closed his eyes and jumped.
Shit, what the hell was he thinking? Ireland yelled at himself as he dove for the plane. When his paws landed on metal and he felt movement under his feet, Ireland opened his eyes and was shocked to see he had made it. He was sitting on the pontoons of the plane as it glided over the water getting ready for takeoff.
Wait. Takeoff? Crap. This thing is going to be taking off at any minute and I’m sitting out here like I have no worries? As soon as this thing raises its nose, I’ll be sliding off. Ireland argued in his head.
He looked up and saw that the cargo door was still open, and he closed his eyes for a moment and thanked the gods. One of the things he loved most about the 208B, was the fact that it had ladders to get in and out.
Ireland quickly made his way to the ladder and stretched up toward the second rung. It was a little hard in his animal form, but he needed to stay this way for now, so he wasn’t seen. His claws just made the rung and he pulled himself up a little then placed his rear legs on the bottom rung and pushed. He continued on up the third rung, then grabbed onto the floor of the plane.
Just as he was pulling his rear end in, the plane lifted, and Ireland went sliding. His heart beat hard in his chest and got stuck in his throat as terror filled him. Grabbing and scratching for anything he could reach, his claws finally snagged on a piece of material.
Ireland dug the claws from his other paw in and was able to fully pull himself fully inside the plane. He scurried to the far side away from the door before he looked around as he tried to catch his breath.
CHAPTER 15
He couldn’t believe it when those fuckers grabbed his mate and began dragging him away. Flyer tried to get up to stop it, but one of the guys dug his knee in Flyer’s back and knocked the wind out of him. He heard the other guy scream out something about a porcupine and quills and how it hurt like a motherfucker and Flyer began to laugh. Ireland must have shifted and got him good with his quills.
As one yelled about the pain, the other guy had lifted Flyer to his feet and punched him in the gut. “Think that’s funny, asshole?”
Once Flyer got a little air back into his lungs, he replied, “I think it’s fucking hysterical actually. Two big goons like you with guns and you can’t even handle one helpless little porcupine.”
That taunt had gotten him another shot to the ribs and Flyer was sure he heard and felt something snap, but he didn’t care. As long as they were focused on him, they weren’t focused on Ireland and his man could get away.
The thought that Ireland was his man had shocked him and he suddenly couldn’t speak. He was confused, but happy at the same time, which confused him even more. All he could think about was keeping Ireland safe and how he wanted to rip these guys’ limbs off for touching what belonged to him. He didn’t want a man of his own, but…but then he did. Not just any man…Ireland. The realization of that struck him like a cast iron pan upside his head and Flyer was momentarily stunned. It was the only excuse he could think of as to why he hadn’t really fought back and allowed those two assholes to drag him down to the docks then tie him up and toss him into the plane.
As he listened to Bharrat tell the goons to go back to the cave, for a moment Flyer was filled with fear for his team, but then he remembered his guys knew exactly what they were doing and their team had grown bigger now with Suneth and the gargoyles thanks to Wade and Suneth’s mating. They had only joined forces recently but already they trained together and learned how to work together. The guys would be fine, Ireland was safe, and he was…well, he was downright screwed.
The plane began to lift, and Flyer heard a faint scratching noise, but had no idea what it was. Then something grabbed onto his pants leg, something with sharp claws, and Flyer’s heart leaped into his throat as fear crept in. He knew who those claws belonged to and if he was right, that meant that not only was his hide in danger, but Ireland’s was as well.
The claws released him, and he heard something move away from him. It wasn’t much of a sound, just barely there, but he heard it. He only hoped asshole one and asshole two up in the front hadn’t.
“Ireland?” Flyer whispered.
After a moment of only the sounds of the plane, Flyer heard a small squeak and his heart filled with happiness. Ireland was okay. Well, he was okay for now.
Suddenly a cold, wet, small something, touched his cheek, then he felt a little tongue and he smiled. Ireland was there. “You should have stayed on the ground, baby. It’s too dangerous for you up here.”
He got another squeak in answer then a paw slapped his cheek.
“Ow. I would rather have the kisses to my chee
k then those claws, baby. Shit that hurt,” Flyer grumbled.
“What are you going on about back there? Who are you talking to?” Bharrat yelled back.
Flyer couldn’t see if Bharrat was looking at them, but he did hear Ireland scurry away.
“You might as well relax, pig, you’ve got a long way to travel before we get back to Guyana,” Bharrat said, then laughed.
Fuck. He needed to do something. He couldn’t let them get out of US airspace or he and Ireland might never be seen again. What the hell was he going to do? He was trussed up like a pig, had no sight, an injured arm and no weapons. He was so fucked. No, they were so fucked. He couldn’t let this be how Ireland’s life ended. The poor man had been cursed and trapped inside his animal form for over three years. He needed to go back to his life, Ireland needed a chance to still live, and Flyer needed to figure out some way to save them both.
* * * *
Hell no! There was no way he could let this guy take him and Flyer to Guyana. Once they got there they would be tortured and killed and that was so not how Ireland ever pictured his death. Even when he was stuck in his porcupine form, he still had dreams of dying surrounded by his friends and people he loved, not carved up for some sick prick’s enjoyment.
He had to do something to stop them from escaping from the US. Once they crossed into International airspace or landed in Mexico, they were done for. This plane did not have the fuel capacity to take them all the way to Guyana in one hop, which meant they would have to land somewhere and either refuel or be taken to another mode of transportation.
He needed to do something now before they crossed the border, but what? Ireland sat there thinking for a few minutes when a thought struck him. He needed to crash this sucker just like he did with Flyer’s plane. Okay, maybe not just like Flyer’s plane. This time he needed to do it with a little more control and not so much of the crashy. And there was one way he knew exactly how to do it.
Ireland laid out flat on his stomach and stretched toward Flyer. He looked up toward the cockpit and saw that no one was paying them any attention. Ireland then looked back to Flyer and shifted. He touched Flyer’s cheek and his mate flinched.
“Ssh, don’t say a word or make a sound,” he whispered softly right by Flyer’s ear. Flyer nodded to let him know he had heard.
“I need to stop them and the only way to do that is to get them to land. Preferably before we leave the country. I’ll have to crash the plane, Flyer.” As Ireland said those words he knew Flyer would protest, so he quickly covered his mate’s mouth with his hand and told him to shush again.
“It’s the only way, but this time I hope to do it a little less violently then last time. There are some straps here that I am going to wrap around you and secure to the latches in the floor. That should stop you from being thrown around. Then I need to shift and get into the control panel. I’ll bite my way through the fuel systems and drain the fuel tank, but I’ll make sure not to hurt the hydraulics. This baby will turn into a glider and he’ll still be able to land it. It’ll be touch and go for a while, but if he’s any kind of pilot he should know how to do it.”
Flyer pulled his face back so Ireland’s hand moved. “Are you crazy? You can’t do that. If we lose all the fuel the steering system may lock up and he won’t be able to guide the craft where he wants. We’ll be a fucking boulder dropping from the sky,” Flyer argued in a hushed whisper.
“No, Flyer, listen, If I―”
“What the fuck? Who the hell are you and how did you get in here?” the angry Creole voice asked.
Ireland swallowed hard, then slowly turned his head toward the voice and cursed as his gaze met the angry one of the man in the suit—Bharrat.
Before Ireland could respond or even move, Bharrat pulled a gun from his waistband and pointed it in his direction. “I asked you a question. And why the hell are you naked?”
“I um…I…crap,” Ireland said and looked to Flyer, but he was no help because he couldn’t see what was going on. “Sorry, I have no idea how to answer you,” Ireland said, as he looked back at the deadliest drug lord.
He thought the man would yell and ask him the questions again, or something. What he didn’t expect was the real, bright smile that crossed the man’s lips right before he started to laugh. “You’ve got some big balls, little man, and I’m not talking about the hairy ones dangling between your legs.”
“Hey, my balls are not hairy. I wax regularly, or at least I used to,” Ireland argued indignantly as he crossed his arms over his chest and held his chin up in defiance.
His words and actions only made the evil dude laugh even harder. “Do you have any idea who I am, little man?”
“Yes, but what does that have to do with you insulting my balls. That’s just wrong.”
“Ireland,” Flyer huffed in warning.
“Don Bharrat,” the pilot called out, but Bharrat ignored him.
“Ireland huh? That’s your name? It’s always nice to know the names of the people I kill, so I can carve it onto my bedpost,” Bharrat said.
“Don Bharrat,” the pilot said again, but Ireland cut him off with his reply. “See, now I thought people notched their conquests on their bedposts, not their kills. Shit, sorry, that’s sad for you. Is that why you’re so grumpy and want to control everyone? Because you can’t get laid?”
“Ireland!” Flyer warned again at the same time as the pilot called for the drug lord, but once again the man ignored the pilot and kept his eyes on Ireland.
The scary man with the gun tsked at him as he smiled and shook his head slowly. “You can’t be so impatient to die, little one, that you would insult my manhood.”
“Nope, I don’t want to die at all, actually, I was just stalling, giving my friends there enough time to get into place,” Ireland replied and nodded toward the front of the plane.
Bharrat’s eyes widened slightly as they filled with confusion, then he spun around quickly to face the front. “What the hell is this witchery?”
“Those would be my friends and they don’t look so happy either,” Ireland said.
There, in front of the plane, was a line of dragons and phoenix all facing the plane as they flapped their wings. The group split in two, moving to the sides to make room just as a very large seven headed dragon and a three headed phoenix rose up to join them.
“What do we do, Don Bharrat?”
“They can’t be real. It must be some kind of projection from somewhere,” he exclaimed, as he moved back to the front of the plane and sat down.
“I think we need to brace ourselves, Flyer. The cavalry has arrived, and boy does Illan look pissed,” Ireland said as he dropped down next to Flyer and grabbed the straps he had seen earlier. He wrapped them around Flyer, then secured them to the rings in the floor.
Ireland grabbed hold of the straps on the wall and held on as he watched the show outside the windows as the dragons and phoenix moved in and surrounded the plane.
“How is this some kind of projection? Dios Mios, they’re real!” the pilot screamed as he pulled on the yoke and tried to make the plane fly over Illan and the others.
Suddenly the plane jerked and there was a loud scraping sound, like metal was being ripped. The plane shook, and the pilot jumped from his seat.
“What are you doing?” Bharrat asked in a panic.
“I’m not flying this plane anymore. They are,” the pilot declared as he stared out the window.
They could hear the engines shutting off and Ireland looked out the window toward the propeller and saw it had stopped spinning.
“What’s going on?” Flyer asked.
“Illan and the others have shut down the engine and turned this baby into a glider. They’ve all grabbed hold of it and are turning us around. If I had to guess, I’d say they’re taking us back to Wade,” Ireland replied happily.
CHAPTER 16
“Where do you think you’re going, Dirtbag?” Juddan said, as he grabbed one of the drug men by the back col
lar of his shirt, pulled him back, then threw him against the stone wall, knocking the man unconscious.
“Is that the last of them?” Wade asked as he finished zip tying another man’s hands behind his back.
“No, Snake and Shadow took off after that Vasquez guy down the tunnel and Bull is hunting another one over in the other one. Bull’s in his wolf form so I don’t think the guy’s gonna get very far,” Juddan answered.
Six came strolling in dragging an unconscious man behind him and he tossed him on the pile with the others. “The plane took off with Bharrat on board,” he announced.
“What? How the hell did that happen?” Wade asked, his voice rising in his rage.
“This asshole here was talking to one of the others and I heard him say, ‘at least the boss was able to take off’. Unfortunately, the other asshole said something I really didn’t like, so I had to shoot him,” Six said nonchalantly.
“And what did he say?” Nuzan asked.
“He said that when they were done killing us, he wanted to go back up into the woods and hunt down the porcupine that quilled his hand.”
“Fuck! Ireland. We have to get out there,” Wade yelled and started for the tunnel.
“Hold your horses there cowboy,” Oz said, stopping Wade. “That’s not all those two were discussing. They said something about the American from your team being on board that plane too and it was too bad they couldn’t kill him themselves.”
“They have Flyer,” Wade said as a statement, not a question.
“That’s my guess. So now the question is, how do we get them back?”
Just then there was a loud screeching yell from one of the tunnels and they all took off in that direction. After making a few turns, they came upon the river with a few boats tied off. Quickly they got into the boats, grabbed the oars and followed the river until they hit the ladder Ireland had told them about. They each climbed up and found the back-entrance Flyer and Ireland had previously escaped from.