“Everyone okay?” Rourke called. A round of yeses chorused from outside the plane.
“I’m just fine, thanks to you.” I leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. I pulled back, but before I could untangle myself from the seat, he ran a hand around my neck and pulled me into a deep, needy kiss. His relief that we were okay pounded through our shared connection, along with my own leftover adrenaline.
I slumped against him, bringing my hands up to stroke his face.
He let me go after a long moment. “I didn’t do much other than try and keep the plane level,” he sighed. “If you want to thank anyone, thank the vamps and Marcy for bouncing us like a ball instead of letting us crash.”
He stood, reaching over to help me out of my seat. Once I was up, he positioned me in front of him and guided me forward. When we got to the rent in the plane, I jumped through to help Marcy while Rourke went to check on the pilots who thankfully were still out cold and still in the plane.
I landed in thigh-high water.
Marcy was standing on top of her plane seat, dripping wet. “Good gravy, this stinks. It literally stinks—like week-old soggy laundry left in the washer.” She shook her legs out, spraying marsh water all over.
“Don’t you have a go-to drying spell? Or a change-of-clothes spell?” I asked wryly. “You’re a talented witch who specializes in marshmallow landings. You must have something for cleaning up a spill in your repertoire.”
“Hey, enough with the unfunny banter. Let’s not forget I just saved our lives, shall we? I’m working on the drying part,” she muttered. “Just trying not to freak out about all the creepy-crawlies that live here. You know, the venomous snakes, alligators, and seriously yucky things that call this place home. Healing from an alligator attack is not on my current to-do list. So, one thing at a time.”
Naomi and Ray both stood off to the right on a dry area of land, looking incredibly happy we were all alive. “How does it look from over there, Ray?” I called. “Did you see anything interesting from above? Are we close to any civilization?”
“Nope, we’re in the middle of one huge marshland. Nothing but swamp for miles and miles. We got lucky. But if the plane stayed on the radar, like the pilots thought, the air traffic controllers saw us go down. Activity will arrive shortly, so we gotta clear out fast.”
I glanced at Marcy, who was already half dry, right as Rourke stuck his head out of the plane. “I buckled the two pilots back into the cockpit seats,” he said, nodding to Marcy. “Now I need you to spell them into thinking they were alone and we were never here.”
Marcy clucked her tongue. “I can do that, but they filled out a flight log in the Bahamas. There will be a record of us being on the flight. And before you ask”—she held a hand up—“I can’t spell something when I don’t know where it is.”
Rourke arched an eye at her. “I don’t care about the flight log. The investigators can interpret that information any way they want. If you wipe their memories and the plane clean, then there’s no real evidence we were ever here. Can you take care of the black box too? There’s a record of Ray opening the door of the plane midflight. Once that’s taken care of, we should be all set.”
Marcy muttered something under her breath about miracles and the abuses of witches. I smiled. “Fine,” she answered. “But for spelling the pilots, I’m going to need something with their DNA attached. Get me a strand of hair or an eyelash or two. Whatever. I’ll need to get back in the plane to deal with the black box.” She crossed her arms and turned to me as Rourke went to fetch the DNA. “For performing my awesome spells on demand, I’ll be requesting a cappuccino maker next to—if not directly on—my desk when we get home. As well as two additional weeks of paid vacation.” She stared me down, daring me to object.
I had no intention of doing that. Instead, I said, “Done. In fact, I’m making you a partner, starting today.” I grinned at her stunned expression. “Don’t act like you don’t deserve it. You kept the business alive while I was in the Underworld. You hired Naomi, which was genius. You’re already head of operations. We’d be nothing without you. Nick will agree with the promotion wholeheartedly.” I didn’t have to address the fact that witches had to charge for their services. It was part of their creed. Marcy was on the Hannon & Michaels payroll, but spelling on demand required much, much more. So I was going to happily give it to her.
“Well, then, okay.” She smoothed out her wrinkled but now perfectly dry pants. “I accept.”