20
ORLANDO
There was no way this would work.
I banged on the next sleeper room, ushering the passengers down the aisle. I was dressed in James’s clothes now, and the ski mask over my face was hot and scratchy. I hated being the bad guy, forcing innocent men and women to march toward the observation car as Sebastian had demanded, but it wasn’t hard. All I had to do was gesture with my Uzi and they practically leaped to obey.
I prayed nobody tried to be a hero as we moved down the aisle.
There was no way this would work because it was a terrible idea. It was worse than my original idea, which was saying something. But Cassie radiated confidence through the totem’s bond, and that helped me accept the plan even though I was terrified.
She was up ahead in the group of passengers, keeping her distance with me so nobody would get suspicious. I kept looking toward her silky black hair, wishing she would look back at me, but she never did. She was an island of familiarity in a sea of unknown, and without her I probably wouldn’t have been able to even stand.
I banged on the next door, then opened it. Empty.
What I hated most about the plan was the danger to Cassie. At least my plan involved her staying back in the room away from all the chaos. Not front-and-center. But she wasn’t the kind of woman to cower in a sleeper car while others risked their lives. I knew that now, and trying to convince her to do so would have been futile. My mate liked being in control. It was who she was.
All I could do was trust her, and play my part, and hope it was enough to keep her safe.
God, I hoped this worked.
Ahead of me, three people deep in the crowd of shuffling hostages, a woman turned around and began sobbing. “Why are you doing this?” she demanded through tear-streaked eyes. “Please don’t hurt me, I just wanted to see my grandchildren in St. Louis…”
I didn’t know what to say. Thankfully, Cassie put an arm around her and guided her forward again, whispering soothing words that calmed her down enough to continue on.
The helicopters outside were now audible over the train noise, a constant reminder that none of this was normal, that things were escalating beyond anyone’s control. Earlier I’d been hoping a SWAT team would descend from ropes and storm the train, killing all the hijackers and saving the day. Now, with an automatic weapon in my hand and a ski mask covering my face, I prayed for the opposite. That would be a hell of a way to go: gunned down by the good guys while trying to save the people on the train. The absurdity of the situation was almost enough to make me laugh.
Almost.
As I guided the passengers forward like cattle, the man closest to me in the back began looking over his shoulder more and more. He was more tense than the rest, and held his hands in fists at his side. He began walking slower, trying to let me get close to him.
“Don’t do it, man,” I hissed at him. “Just trust me. This is all almost over.”
I hoped I didn’t sound like I was begging. If he turned around and attacked me I wouldn’t fight back; I couldn’t hurt an innocent person. I stared at the back of his head and silently willed him not to do it.
Whether because of my words, or because he was too afraid to try anything, the man continued forward peacefully.
We reached the connector between the dining and observation cars. As I passed through I took a few seconds to examine the partition: it was a combination of thin rubber and wiry fabric, an accordion that flexed along with the movements of the train.
I took a deep breath to calm myself (which didn’t work) and stepped through the next door.
The observation car was crammed tight with dozens of passengers, some seated but most standing in the aisle and against the windows. The opposite end of the car was guarded by the two other hijackers, guns held alertly across their chests and a gap between them and the passengers.
But my eyes were immediately drawn to him. The dragon.
Sebastian stood in the aisle in the middle of the car, legs spread in an A stance and arms behind his back. His head was tilted back and he looked down his nose at the gathered passengers like a judge about to issue a sentence.
I could feel all of him. His hate, his power. I would have been able to sense what he was even if he were inconspicuously seated among the hostages.
Ice went up my spine. If that were true, then surely he could feel the totem. And me. I did my best to not make eye contact with him because surely that would reveal me, so I scanned that room as if I were doing my job and remained in front of the door.
The dragon didn’t say anything to me, so I must have been doing the right thing.
Right then, I knew Cassie had been right. I wouldn’t have been able to walk up to the dragon and shoot him. I didn’t have it in me. I would have collapsed into a puddle before him, and it would have all been over right then.
It was a good thing I’d listened to her. I resolved to do a lot more of that from now on.
If, you know, we got out of this alive.
You can do this, I told myself, focusing on Cassie’s pulsing warmth. The confidence she made me feel.
The dragon nodded to himself, and then spoke.