Royal Line by Carrie Ryan (lightweight ebook reader .txt) 📗

call for help. Then, as a final precaution, I grabbed him by the back of his shirt, dragging him with me and rolling him under the plane so if someone came by, they wouldn’t see him right away. Then I palmed my weapon again and took the stairs two at a time.

Gently, I eased a foot inside and peeked in. No pilot. No guard. Just a woman in a blue-green pantsuit standing over someone slumped over one of the seats. I clicked the safety of my gun. “Back away, old lady.”

The woman whirled around. Her hair was a dark auburn cascading over her shoulders. The funny thing was she had London’s eyes, but unlike London’s, there was no kindness in them. There was no love. They were cold and flat and dead. She must have been a hell of an actor to have played the family like she did.

“Oh, you’re the commoner she hooked up with. Darling, I must say, this is very noble of you to come and try to save someone who has nothing to do with your paltry little life, but you miscalculated.”

I heard a click behind me, and my heart nearly exploded. I’d been so focused on her that I hadn’t heard the person behind me. Or maybe he was just as well-trained as I was and moved silently like the night.

“Drop the gun, asshole.”

It was the last thing on earth I wanted to do.

“I will as soon as your boss lets me see if London is alive.”

He pressed the gun to the small of my back. “You don’t have a leg to stand on. Drop it.”

He was right. I had no choice. I dropped the weapon as he requested just as London started to come to. She lifted her head. Her lids flickered, and then her eyes went wide as her gaze met mine. “Kannon?”

“Hey, princess.”

“You came for me.”

“Always.”

The one with the auburn hair, I assumed she was London’s aunt, rolled her eyes. “Oh my God, young love. Or maybe it’s just my little niece spreading her thighs and falling for the nearest beggar she could find. London, say goodbye to your boyfriend. He really has become quite the thorn in my side. If it hadn’t been for this idiot, you would have had a more peaceful death. You know, an accident along the side of the road. But he just had to come and save the day, the perfect white knight. Which now means your death will be more painful. I could torture you by holding you until I can find just the right moment and watch you die at home where your brothers will mourn you and your idiocy.”

London lifted her gaze to her aunt. “You won’t get away with this.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I already have.”

Outside the window, I saw Olly on one of the luggage carriers, stopping to look down at a bundle.

He’d found Sparrow.

Jesus fucking Christ.

Unfortunately, whoever had the gun in my back also noticed him.

“He brought a friend.”

London’s aunt glanced around. “Where?”

In that moment, the man behind me made the error of indicating toward the window, and that gave me my way in.

In the tight confines of the aisle, I spun into his arm with my hand and braced at my hip to catch his firing arm. I delivered an elbow to his temple and lifted his gun hand up to keep him from shooting at London. I brought my right arm down and placed it across his trachea, adjusting my grip on his wrist. I’d underestimated though.

He had a gun in one hand and a knife in the other. He managed to slice down at my arm before I braced my right hand on the shoulder of his suit, then brought him down hard on my knee. Fire raced up my arm, but I didn’t let up.

I levered my arm back so it acted like a bar across his neck again, applied pressure, and he coughed. Then I brought him down with another harsh tug to my knee. He dropped the gun and the knife. He stayed down as he moaned. I used that opportunity to grab his ears and brought his face to my knee again.

London’s Aunt Rebecca dove for the gun, but I reached it first, aiming it at her. “Uh-uh, you don’t want to do that.”

Rebecca scowled at me. “Why couldn’t you just leave her in that ravine? None of us would be here now.”

“Sometimes the good guys win. Release her. Now.”

I reached for the pliers inside the tool pocket of my vest and tossed them on the floor. “Now, no funny business. I promise you that I am a perfect shot.”

For a moment, it looked like she wanted to argue with me. Then she did as she was told, first snipping the plastic zip tie at one of London’s wrists and then the other. She held her hands up. “Happy?”

“What do you think? Put down the pliers, please.”

She looked like she might want to jab London in the eye with them, but she didn’t get the opportunity. London pushed to her feet, and with an open palm, she slammed her hand straight into her aunt’s nose.

The older woman staggered back and howled. “What? How dare you?”

“You’re lucky I didn’t use a closed fist. You forgot Breck and Wilder taught me how to fight.”

London staggered on her feet, but I held her steady as Rebecca tried to gain her footing. Blood spurted out of her nose, leaving vermillion spots on the pristine turquoise jacket of her suit. “Why couldn’t you just do as you were told, London?”

London straightened her shoulders. “And why couldn’t you not be a bitch?”

I eased forward with the zip ties, rolled Rebecca over, and then tied her wrists together. Then I lifted her gently and placed her on one of the seats. It was only then that I turned my whole attention to London. She was shaking on her feet, and I held her to me. “You’re okay. You’re okay.”

“Oh my God, Sparrow.