Pucker Up (A Damsels of Distress Novel) (12 page)

She contemplated either touching

a possibly dead body or flying a

patched-up airplane thousands of feet in

the air. “You're right. Let me take over

the controls so you can check his pulse.”

“Ivy!”

“Fine.” She reached out her hand

to find his carotid artery but pulled it

back when she grazed the stubble on his

jaw.

E w .
Two more attempts were

made before she stepped back to take a

couple deep breaths.

“How do you expect to break

Prince Sebastian's curse if you can't

even touch Captain Burgandy?”

“Because Prince Sebastian's only

cursed
, remember?” She narrowed her

eyes at the back of his head, daring him

to argue.

“Just do it, Ivy.”

Swallowing

down

her

discomfort, she placed two digits on the

side of the captain's throat. She shifted

her fingers a couple times in search of

any signs of pumping blood.

Nothing.

Poor guy.

“Well?” he said.

“He's dead.” Her voice was

hollow. Even as the words formed on

her tongue, she didn't want to believe

them.

“Are you sure? Check again.”

Her patience snapped. “I can

count to zero. He's dead. Gone. Shuffled

off his mortal coil. And if you even
think

about asking me to kiss him, I'll punch

you in the face.”

Thane seemed properly cowed

as he turned away to concentrate on the

sky in front of them. Most of the clouds

drifted below as the afternoon sun

shined high above.

She sighed.
At least he died

peacefully
.

She reached over to gently pat

the old guy on the shoulder, but then

remembered he was dead and pulled her

hand back.

Wait. He's dead.
Blood drained

from her face. He couldn't die. Not

while they were stuck thousands of feet

in the air. Fate had been giving her the

finger lately, but really? Killing the pilot

mid-flight was too much.

Don't panic.
She wanted to

simultaneously cry, scream and laugh to

release the pressure building inside her

chest. Being incapacitated by fear—

even if she had every right to be under

the circumstances— would only make

things worse. They needed a plan. And

since Thane was all about research and

strategy, he should already be working

out the next course of action.

“Now what?” she asked.

Thane straightened up in his seat.

“I guess we continue on to Lynden

Airport. It's only... I've never landed a

plane before.”

She closed her eyes. “Of course,

you haven't.”

Don't panic.

“We'll worry about that later.

Right now, fly.” She sent up a little

prayer to God, Mohammad, Zeus—

whoever was in charge up there— that

they make it through this alive.

The weight of the last twenty-

four hours pressed down on her. It felt

like a two-ton dragon sat on her chest—

which was ironic considering where

they were flying— and her legs were

seconds from giving out. She needed to

sit.

“Ivy, I need you,” Garren yelled

from the middle of the plane.

She chuckled weakly. The world

must really be coming to an end for

Garren to admit such a thing. She made

her way back to see what crisis waited

for her now. Her hands trembled. She

clenched them into fists to keep Garren

from noticing.

“You rang?”

His

attention

fixated

on

something outside. “Get on the other gun.

We've got company.”

Loud, shrill squawks and deep

roars filled the sky. She immediately

jumped behind the other weapon. “All

right,” she said, putting her game face

on. “How do you work this thing?”
I can

do this. Dragons couldn't be worse

than Mr. McGregor on a bender right

before a full moon, and I survived that.

She glanced outside to see the long drop

to the ocean below. She snapped her

head up and swallowed.
Just don't look

down.

Garren quickly came up behind

her and gave her a ten second lesson on

machine gun operation. “Can you handle

it?”

She nodded. She swept the gun

back and forth, watching the sky. The

space was cramped so she tried to keep

herself as still as possible. “You might

want to know that Captain Burgandy's

dead.”

“What? Are you sure?” The

crack in his voice was almost her

undoing. She was depending on him to

be the commanding, egotistical asshole

who took charge of everything.

“Well, if he's not, then he can

sure hold his breath for a long time.”

He mumbled a few choice curses

before asking about his stepbrother.

“He's flying as best he can.”

She'd mention the landing later.

Two dark spots in the distant

clouds grew larger. Wings came into

focus. Her pulse quickened. She wiped

her sweaty palms on her pants and

gripped the handle tighter.

Loud pops from Garren's gun

echoed off the metal walls, startling the

crap out of her.

“Son of a bitch,” he said as he

fired a few more shots.

A scaly, green tail flew past

Garren's window, disappearing over the

plane. Her heart hammered against her

chest.

When she turned back to her

window, a huge green dragon stared at

her. Half the size of the plane, it flew a

few hundred yards away. Massive wings

flapped up and down. At the end of its

long neck was a three-horned head.

Smoke wafted out of its round nostrils.

But what froze her in place was a set of

glowing red eyes, peering out from

under thick brows. It caught her gaze and

held, as if hypnotizing her. Then, it

opened its giant maw and hurled a

stream of fire at her. She screamed and

ducked below the open window.

I am going to die.

When she peeked over the ledge

a few seconds later, heat hit her face.

Immediately, the bulky suit kicked in and

cooled her body, like jumping into a

cold lake on a hot day. Flames spread

across an invisible barrier surrounding

the plane.

Okay, maybe magic has its uses.

“Ivy, get up and shoot the damn

thing!”

“But the...” she pointed out the

window. She wasn't sure if the bullets

would break the magical shield or

ricochet back at her.

“Just shoot!”

With gritted teeth, she squeezed

the trigger. She'd fired guns before, but

she wasn't prepared for the amount of

kickback this weapon threw at her.

Whoa!
She stumbled backwards, tilting

the machine gun up as she fell down,

firing bullets straight up into the sky.

Oops.

The stream of bullets arced

down, grossly missing the beast. She

kept firing at the dragon as it bobbed and

weaved the assault. It blasted fire at the

shields, again and again.

“Damn, these guys are quick,”

Garren said, panting. He had his hands

full with a group of small, black dragons

dive-bombing from above. They were

the size of Great Danes and spit

fireballs.

There were so many, like a

swarm of locusts, blocking out the

sunlight. She assumed at least fifty

spitters surrounded the plane. Not to

mention the king and queen, the green

dragons, blasting them with flames.

Pushing aside the hopelessness of being

grossly outnumbered, she kept firing.

I'm not going down without a

fight.

Muffled

explosions,

like

microwaved popcorn, shook the plane.

The small, black dragons shot fireballs

at every inch of the aircraft. Bright

flashes of light from each blast nearly

blinded her. There were so many spots

before her eyes, she gave up on aiming

and fired in all directions. The risk paid

off moments later when she hit one of the

spitters. It floundered in the air, falling

back. A glossy, dark mass coated the

wing she shot.

She

stared

down

at

the

ammunition belt, puzzled. “These aren’t

normal bullets, are they?”

“Tar bullets,” Garren said in

between firing. “Don't stop.”

So she didn't. Now that she had a

hang of shooting the gun, she fired with

renewed confidence. One by one, the

bothersome little dragons went down.

But the two green ones still held strong,

no matter how many times she tarred

them.

Moving around to get a better

shot, she bumped into Garren with the

parachute on her back.

“Watch it,” he hissed.

“
You
watch it.”

Each ball of fire weakened the

magic surrounding the plane. The shields

flickered and rippled with each hit.

Come on, you stupid magic.

Don't fail us now.

She spotted the queen again,

much closer than before. Larger.

Deadlier. She focused on it and

squeezed the trigger.

Nothing. Only hollow clicks.

“Are you
kidding
me?”

The wooden box next to her was

empty.

“I'm out,” she shouted to Garren.

He kept firing as he yelled, “Get

the Element Orbs.”

She whipped her head around,

searching for the glowing balls. The box

Garren loaded sat by the door. She

tossed off the lid and grabbed a blue

Orb. The baseball size sphere was cool

to the touch and heavier than she

suspected. A slingshot lay next to the

Orbs.

A slingshot? Really?
“It’s

physically impossible to hit anything

with this from a speeding airplane. You

know this, right?” She held up the

archaic weapon and waved it at him.

“It’s magic, Ivy. Have some

faith.”

She was getting tired of hearing

that excuse. Magic couldn’t have all the

answers.

Grabbing

the

box,

she

staggered back to her window to prepare

her attack. She loaded the Water Orb

into the sling and combed the sky for that

damned green dragon.

“Where'd you go, you giant,

flying lizard?” she muttered. A flash of

green at the corner of her eye caught her

attention. It jet past, rocking the plane in

its wake. On its way by, she noticed

something small clinging to its long

neck: a baby dragon.

Her heart sank. “I can't kill a

mom.”

Garren paused to glance out her

window. “Knock the baby off. She'll go

after it.”

“Are you nuts?” It was one thing

to shoot a fully grown dragon, but target

a baby. A
baby?
Maybe his suit was

malfunctioning and he wasn't getting

enough oxygen to his brain.

But she had to do something as

the queen looped around and flew back.

She aimed. It headed right for her. She

steadied her arm and waited.

Just a little closer
.

The animal opened its mouth.

She released the Orb. It shot out of the

slingshot with supernatural speed. She

missed.

Damn it!

The dragon blasted the shields

with orange flames before ducking under

the plane. Its tail bumped into the

invisible barrier as it passed. She

struggled to keep her balance.

“Stupid,

ugly

dragon,”

she

muttered as she gathered another Water

Orb. A yellow Wind Orb sitting in the

box gave her an idea. She picked it up

and held it in one hand with the blue one

in the other. Slowly, carefully, she

pushed the two together to create one

bright green, softball size sphere. She

exhaled in relief, thankful it didn't blow

up in her face. Smirking, she loaded the

new weapon into the sling.

The king weaved around the few