Paragon - Chapter 50: Chapter 50

I scanned every civilian we passed in the seats. Searching. For one set of irises that were not mortal. For a fine ring of gold that would give away the game.
But it comforted me that even if an immortal assassin was stowed on the flight they would not act on board. An immortal fight in a pressurised cabin thousands of feet in the air could cause an international incident. That was high profile. That was not how Paragon operated.
Quinn slipped her hand into my own as a steward led us to the business class seating. Luxury to the average mortal but nothing to draw an obstinate amount of attention towards. Plus the fact I think Quinn realised it was irritating enough to be too near to mortals for more than a few minutes let alone the 11 hours we would be airborne.
The woman ahead smiled and gestured to the plush seats alongside the windows. A gracious amount of space at least and no mortals to sit too close. A number of mortals were already in place trying to block out the world around them.
"Fletcher stop glaring at everyone." Quinn murmured.
I relaxed my face instantly not recognising I was.
"It wasn't intentional." I returned low, slipping into my chair and watching Quinn move into hers ahead of my own so she could prop her forearms on the headrest. Those green eyes scanned the surroundings warily as she took in the many mortals moving down the aisle finding other seats.
"I never think I've seen you around so many people." She said faintly.
"It's only your scent that concerns me." I muttered, glancing out the window and wishing the process would be faster.
The sooner we were off the ground the sooner we would be less of a target. I had no doubt they knew I was entirely rogue now. No phone response. No sighting in London. No falling into a trap of immortal assassins–
"Fletcher."
I snapped my eyes back to her and she raised her hand to me. I plucked it out the air and kissed it with a smile that didn't entirely reach my eyes. How could they when we potentially had a thousand year old executioner on board–and that was if they thought little of me. Two would be infinitely worse.
"What are we meant to do–" She paused and threw an attendant a fake smile, "–if we recognise one of them."
"You pretend you didn't." I answered low, scanning ahead as a male stuffed a bag in the overhead. Quinn glanced out at the airport as the pilots began introductions and mundane updates on the weather. The British always did feel at ease once they knew the weather forecast.
"You can get us out right?" She whispered more intently.
I met her eyes in serious.
"From a vacuum sealed tube at twenty thousand feet? No. I might be unbreakable, Quinn but the impact would kill you."
"I'm glad you're choosing now to be this honest with me." She growled.
I couldn't' resist a small smirk.
"I'd sooner let them go through me."
"I need a drink." She answered instead. But the attendants were busy with takeoff preparations and requesting the last to take their seats.
"Apologies you don't quite have the service we're used to."
She threw me a glare before dropping down into her seat ahead of me. I slipped my hand forward despite it and left it against her armrest. A few moments passed before I felt the warmth land over it and tighten.
The crew began with the emergency procedures. Even as an immortal I found them comical. An aircraft this size and scale would shred itself to pieces on any form of impact landing–a brace position against a seat wouldn't change that. If they really wanted to give the mortals a chance they would stow hundreds of parachutes on board and teach them the use of that instead of these laughable floatation devices.
Quinn was distracted and gazed at the runway that we now moved along.
11 hours. Potential members of Paragon on board. Thousands of feet and miles to a solid surface and one cracked window could end it all. I took a slow breath and focused on her hand that hand woven through my fingers.
She turned her head window side to speak through the gap.
"I still don't regret this you know."
I stilled and stared at the shadow of her and the strands of dark brown hair concealing her expression to me.
"I could be sat behind my desk at Henley & Bloom and know nothing of immortals and ancient orders. And I still can't bring myself to hate a second of being with you."
I wanted to ignore the staff and take her face in my hands from her seat. To let her know exactly how much I echoed her words. But for now the small gap between the windows of a commercial flight had to do. My deeper expression was for when we got the hell off this tin can and disappeared deep into South America.
"All I see in my future is you, Quinn." I finally answered in a low voice.
I had no notion of her reaction. She kept our hands secure as they wrapped up the announcements and the final mortals were in their seats.
The pilot punched the throttle and the force of the speed steadily sunk us into our seats. Four engine aircraft always did have a kick on takeoff.
I felt a slow breath leave me and focused intently on the steady beat of Quinn's heart. It tuned out the rest for me and allowed me to think of one thing. The lights pinged and we were once more free to move about the cabin. Drinks teams were quickly down our aisles and Quinn didn't hesitate to get hold of a gin and tonic.
I smirked ahead as the attendants passed and got out of my seat.
I dropped into a crouch before her and she crossed her legs looking at me slyly.
"Excuse me ma'am, but I noticed you needed company."
She took a slow sip and tilted her head at me.
"Who's offering?"
"An immortal with impeccable taste in women."
She grinned over the rim and set it down on the side table.
"You're not so bad yourself stranger."
I glanced down the aisle and checked both sides. Mortals more or less kept to themselves. Especially in this class. A lot were in business casual wear, others were wealthy couples and of course you had the trade mark new money. They were easiest to spot with the overbearing amount of designer labels printed on every inch–
"You're glaring again." Quinn noted, snapping my eyes off a blonde with a hideous Dior get up.
"Sorry."
"What's got you so..." She leaned out and followed my gaze to the blonde. Her smile became taunting. "I didn't take you for the blonde type."
"That is absolutely not why I am looking." I scoffed.
"You're right she's a little old for you."
"I'm over a hundred years of age." I deadpanned.
Quinn nodded and crunched a cube. "Yet you're stuck looking like you're a first year at University."
"Twenty three." I corrected with a slow smile. She twisted her lips and took another sip.
"I'm older than you then."
"I guessed twenty five."
"You were correct."
She leant forward and scanned the woman again before gently snorting to herself. I raised an eyebrow.
"I think I understand the glare now." She answered me.
"Which is what?"
"She's dressed like the Met Gala spat her out."
"It is a bit much." I agreed, avoiding wasting my time by looking any further. I had a better sight in front of me either way.
"You never mentioned where you get those pristine shirts and jackets from..." She ventured, meeting my eyes again. I glanced down at my black shirt, custom fit to every line of me.
"Paragon."
She whistled low and ran a finger down my shoulder. I rolled my eyes and briefly checked my body position to avoid a passing mortal before crouching back beside her. God there had to be a better way I could be present than this... I considered the actual bar on the plane's upper floor.
"A shame you'll be wearing mortal clothes forever now."
"I liked your clothes." I admitted with a wry smirk.
"You did look better in them." She agreed wistfully.
I glanced at the night beyond and the high moon riding above the clouds.
"Is it too much to ask you to get some sleep for a few hours at least?"
She eyed me suspiciously, but I could tell she was fighting it now.
"You're not going to do anything stupid while I do will you?"
I dipped forward and pressed my lips carefully to her forehead.
"No immortal death matches on the plane." I promised her.
She chuckled lightly before settling back in her seat and pulling a cushion against the window. I leant across her and pulled the blind down. The cabin had already adjusted to a darkened setting with blue floor lighting. I pulled a standard issue blanket out from below her seat and threw it across her.
"Stop fussing me, immortal." She mocked.
"Stop arguing and go to sleep, mortal." I answered, drawing back and giving her a stern look.
She just watched me sleepily from her blanket as I rose and paced silently down the cabin.
My real search for them could begin now. One way or another I would find them if they hid and they wouldn't touch a hair on her. Paragon could use me all they liked but they crossed a line too far when they involved Quinn Adams.