The Wicked (Elder Races #5.5)(10)

During their telepathic conversation, the plane had finished its climb in altitude. The delicious smell of cooked food wafted from the galley. Sebastian unbuckled his seat belt and stood briefly to get everyone’s attention.

He said, “We’re going to eat lunch now, and after everybody has finished their meal, we’ll have our meeting. We’ll be busy when we hit the tarmac at SFO, so think of what questions you would like to ask now.”

Olivia peered around the corner of her seat at the others while he spoke. She did not see much friendliness in the expressions of those that glanced at her. Between arriving in the midst of a very Djinn-like flourish, mouthing off more than once and now sitting with the expedition leader, it appeared that she had managed to alienate herself from just about everybody in the group.

Dendera spoke up. She had a light, sandy voice. “I want to meet with the other symbologists too.”

Sebastian nodded. “We’ll have time for that.”

As Sebastian slid back into his seat, the flight attendant wheeled out a cart laden with their lunches. Olivia had chosen the Dover sole, while Sebastian had chosen both the sole and the filet. Apparently he was finished with their conversation, for he turned on his laptop and worked in silence while he ate.

She didn’t mind. A little of his forceful presence went a long way. Even with the mental distance he set up between them, she was excruciatingly aware of every move he made, from his quick, decisive bites of food to the rapid typing on his keyboard. Once he shifted in his seat, and his jeans-clad calf brushed against hers. She felt as if he had stroked her naked leg with the palm of his hand. She shivered in reaction, and he seemed to pause what he was doing.

Of course that might have been totally in her imagination. He might have merely paused to read something on his laptop screen.

The fabulous meal was served with either a cabernet sauvignon or pinot grigio, and she was not a dainty eater. She chose the white wine and consumed with enthusiasm everything that was put in front of her, down to the crusty French roll, which she smothered with the pat of organic butter.

Dessert was as delicious as the main meal had been, the chocolate mousse light, intensely rich and melting against her tongue, topped with a dollop of freshly whipped cream. The dark sweetness of the mousse was complemented perfectly by the bold taste of the French roast coffee.

After polishing off his steak and fish, Sebastian had chosen the cheese plate for dessert, not the sweet, and as she watched him eat out of the corner of her eye, she felt pretty certain that he was some kind of predator Wyr.

He never removed his sunglasses, not even to eat. She wondered why. He didn’t exactly have a warm and approachable personality. Was it to keep a barrier between himself and others?

The atmosphere in the cabin had lightened with the wine and the excellent meal, and voices rose companionably. She smiled to herself as she listened. Their temporary employer had chosen a wise way to break the ice. The only person who had not appreciated lunch was Phaedra. When Olivia checked on the Djinn, she saw that Phaedra had slipped on a set of headphones and sat with her eyes closed.

Sebastian stood as soon as the attendant had cleared away their empty dessert dishes. He said without preamble, “Here are the next steps. The rest of my security team has already assembled in San Francisco. They have been collecting all the supplies and equipment that we will need, and they will remain on watch on the yacht while we cross over.”

“With time slippage, that could be a long spell for them,” Dendera said.

“They’ll follow a rotation for shore leave, and the yacht will dock periodically for fuel and supplies,” Sebastian replied. “Meanwhile Phaedra will guard the crossover passageway itself. When we land, we will go directly to the yacht and spend the night on board. First thing in the morning we will make our first crossing. Because only eight of us are allowed to cross over, we’ll have to make the trip several times with supplies. The same thing will be true when we transport the contents of the library.”

The library would be transported in custom-designed, hermetically sealed containers. Sebastian passed around photos. Olivia studied them curiously when the Light Fae woman, Bailey, handed them to her. She couldn’t imagine what the cost of the expedition was, with the legal battle, the highly specialized team, the security, the yacht, supplies and equipment, including wet suits and diving gear, and now these containers, but the running total had to be in the millions. Carling really wanted her property back, which did not surprise Olivia in the slightest, since the library itself had to be priceless.

After the question and answer session, Dendera stood and said to Olivia and Steve, “Let’s meet at the empty table in the back. I’ll be with you in just a few minutes.”

Sebastian had sat down again. He didn’t look up or otherwise acknowledge that Olivia left the table. Feeling oddly let down, she shrugged it off and moved to the back of the plane where Steve had already slid into a seat. She chose the one across the table from him. Dendera had disappeared in the direction of the lavatory, so at the moment she and Steve sat alone.

The other symbologist was tall, around six feet or so, with a lanky build and large, long-fingered hands. Trying to guess a Wyr’s age without any knowledge of his animal form was an exercise in futility, but if Steve were a human male, she would have pegged him in his late thirties. His dark hair had receded somewhat from a high forehead, and he wore a speculative expression on his thin, rather bony face as he considered her.