Prologue

“Antiseptic, check. Scissors and bandages double-check. Ibuprofen…oh, there it is. Triple check. Thermometer…oh, God, I must’ve left it at home.”

With a groan, Mallory Teaks zipped the MediPack shut and leaned back in her seat, staring out the window on her left. For a split second, she almost forgot where she was and expected to see the blurred landscape of a city street or the familiar lights of a train tunnel. The scenery that greeted her instead was a blanket of blue sky overlooking an expanse of white, puffy clouds.

There was no horizon, no periphery, and no other airplane within the scope of her vision. Flight 18 was alone in the sky this afternoon as far as she could see, anyway.

A wave of turbulence sent a light shudder through the plane. Mallory bit her lip, fighting the sudden urge to make another routine check as if she hadn’t been checking for the past half hour.

The MediPack, as she’d fondly called it since she bought it at that dollar store last year, was a fuchsia pink fanny pack barely three times the size of her fist. Stuffed inside it, thankfully without too much trouble, was everything she needed to make sure she didn’t get caught off guard. At least, that was what she told herself when packing the first-aid kit this morning.

If it had been up to her, she would have brought a lot more items along, but there was only so much she could bring onto a flight without being considered a security threat. Mallory scoffed as she remembered the first time she’d checked out the flight restrictions.

“What in the world do you mean my scissors have to be less than four inches long?” she’d complained aloud, causing several heads to turn in her direction.

At least she’d been allowed to bring the MediPack on board. If anything happened, if anyone needed medical assistance, she’d be there to offer her professional assistance. Not that she was expecting any emergencies during this flight. It certainly would suck if someone got a cut or fainted and needed the help of a nurse. It would suck really, really bad.

Fingers crossed.

Brushing her red hair out of her face, Mallory glanced around the cabin, wondering not for the first or second time why she hadn’t just taken a bus or train instead. Tickets certainly cost less, and with so many stops, at least she wouldn’t feel like she was stuck on a one-way trip with all these. Not to mention, she’d probably still be in Vegas by now, not back at the Living Grace Hospital, unfortunately, but in the city, nevertheless.

Heck, she could’ve refused to travel altogether. She would be standing in the emergency ward or powerwalking through the brightly lit halls of her workplace in her teal scrubs to administer her assistance. Ah, those were the good times.

Too bad she’d put a pause on them a couple of days ago.

A series of thuds against the back of her seat shook her out of her reverie. Another groan escaped her lips, and she unbuckled her seat belt to get a glimpse of the culprit, a barrage of choice words already forming in the back of her mind.

“Cut that out, will you?” she said.

The man who’d been kicking her seat looked to be in his mid-thirties, maybe a couple of years older than she was. He was blond, with a buzz cut and a silver nose ring she thought was a bit too large for his face. Headphones covered his ears, and he looked engrossed in whatever he was listening to. Probably one of those really annoying podcasts that keep going viral these days. Mallory wasn’t one to make hasty assumptions about people, but she already didn’t particularly like this guy.

“Hey.” She snapped her fingers before his face to get his attention, breathing a tiny sigh of relief when he slipped the headphones off one ear. “Could you stop kicking my seat?”

The man merely shrugged and pulled his headphones back on. Mallory fought back a wave of irritation. Her gaze swept from him to some of the other passengers in the cabin. Business class was certainly calmer than what she figured flying coach must be like. It was mostly quiet; nearly everyone looked bored out of their minds, from the men in suits to the women, some of whom were dozing off. A couple of rows away, Mallory caught sight of a woman with a panicked expression on her face.

She looked like she could use some therapeutic assistance. Mallory’s heart gave a leap.

She wasn’t a doctor, nor had she any professional experience with psychiatry, but she’d always been interested in matters of the sort. It was no surprise, considering she’d had to do whatever she could to remain stable in a busy, evolving world that seemed to attack her from all directions.

Deciding it wouldn’t be proper to offer the woman any assistance she hadn’t specifically requested, Mallory relaxed in her seat, strapping herself back in.

Three days. For three days, she’d been away from work. As much as she hated to admit it, it was slowly driving her nuts.

Why had she agreed to take a sabbatical? Mallory loved her work more than, well, pretty much anything else she could think of. To be frank, it was more like an obsession—at least, that was what Dr. Grace had called it.

“You work too hard, Teaks,” he’d told her, looking almost weary as he cleaned his glasses. “I can’t believe I’m even saying this. Usually, I have to tell people they’re not working hard enough or not doing a good enough job. You’re doing amazing, don’t get me wrong. But you need to take a break.”

Mallory had flashed him a look of indignation. “But everything’s fine.”

“Yes, but for how long?” He settled the glasses on his nose, peering over the still-foggy lenses at her. “Ever heard of burnout? That’s what happens when you work too hard. And if you don’t take a break soon, you’ll hit a wall. I can’t have you caring for patients in this hospital in that condition. I expect you to be at your best.”

“I am at my best!” she’d protested.

“You need a break,” the doctor pressed. “Everyone does at some point. I’m not letting you go. You’re one of our best nurses. Just take a couple of months off. It’s a paid leave, in fact.”

But Mallory didn’t care about the money. Asking her to take a break from work sounded only a little better than firing her outright, keeping her from doing the one thing she loved. Being at the hospital, in her opinion, was the perfect way of coping with this world. It was easier worrying about the lives of patients than worrying about everything else, from her sustenance to her own safety.

“What am I supposed to do?” she’d asked Dr. Grace.

In response, he’d simply chuckled. “Go on a vacation. Spend some time with family or friends. It’s almost Thanksgiving, and Christmas is just around the corner. And then there’s New Year’s. And—”

“I get your drift,” Mallory had said with a sigh.

“Good. Give yourself a break, Teaks,” Dr Grace had told her. The corners of his mouth twitched. “Doctor’s orders.”

And that was how Mallory had found herself on a plane to Chicago to spend the next couple of months with her stepbrothers until after New Year’s. She’d been reluctant to pack her things, even to leave the hospital, but here she was, on a flight thousands of feet above Nebraska, a few days before Thanksgiving.

She glanced down and barely resisted a chuckle. She hadn’t given it much thought earlier, but she supposed she looked an absolute sight. She was dressed in a gray button-up shirt over brown khaki pants; her pink MediPack settled on her waist like a WWE championship belt. Now that she thought about it, she’d received a couple of odd stares back at the airport. Not that it mattered, anyway. The way she saw it, it was probably better for people to think of her as a weirdo than to know what she really was.

At the thought, she shifted uncomfortably in her seat, feeling a light tension in her torso. One of the many fun parts of being a fae in a world where most people didn’t look like her was constantly having to tuck her wings under her clothing. Right now, they were wrapped around her upper body, almost like a binder, just out of the way of her bra straps. It wasn’t exactly peak comfort, but at least it wasn’t suffocating. Besides, there was no point keeping them out in the open when she wasn’t flying with them.

Not to mention, hiding her wings and keeping a mostly low profile was one of the main reasons she was still in one piece today.

She’d somehow bypassed the X-ray scanners at the airport, which wasn’t exactly easy to do with airport safety measures at an all-time high. Keeping her existence as a fae a secret wasn’t out of the ordinary. Pretty much every supernatural hid their true nature from the rest of the world, although over the years, there had always been a few people who let it slip who they were and either ended up on YouTube or mysteriously disappeared. The last thing Mallory needed was to end up in Area 51 with metal tubes sticking out from between her shoulder blades or whatever they did to people like her.

In fact, even the people who knew what she was, like her human stepbrothers, were not particularly fond of her. Typical humans, Mallory had always told herself. At least they’d been decent enough to mask their discomfort around her with forced smiles that made them look like the Cheshire Cat.

Besides, they’d kept her secret since they were kids, which was more than Mallory expected from most humans. Tolerance was a rarity; secrecy even more so among their kind.

Mallory hadn’t dated much, either, mostly because she’d been too engrossed in her work, but when she did, she always dated other supernaturals, never humans. Considering how hard it was to bump into someone else like her in a city where everyone seemed to pass for human, her dating pool was the size of a bathtub.

But that didn’t bother her at all. As far as Mallory was concerned, dating a human could only end badly. With her luck, she’d end up with a bounty hunter—or, worse, some guy with a fetish. It was better for her to stay buried in her work than to try to have a regular social life that could land her in the operating room at Living Grace Hospital.

Yeah…not happening.

Not that she wouldn’t like to be in someone’s bed again. How long had it been since she was last with a man? Two or three years? She managed to dismiss the gnawing sensation that clawed at her chest at the thought.

Another couple of thuds jerked her back to her mundane, frustrating reality. It was the guy with the headphones. Mallory gritted her teeth. What was his deal, anyway?

She twisted in her seat. “I told you to stop doing that.”

The man pulled off his headphones again. “What’s your deal?”

“What’s my deal?” Mallory could hardly believe her ears. “You keep kicking my seat. I happen to find that very annoying.”

The man shrugged. “I’m just grooving to my jams.”

So he was listening to music.

“You’re acting like a toddler right now.”

“Just let me enjoy my music, will you? You’re kinda harshing my mellow.”

“ What ?”

God, this man was going to make her blow a fuse. She stopped herself from making a scathing remark about his nose ring and called to a flight attendant who was passing by.

“How can I help you, ma’am?” the woman wanted to know. Her eyes drifted from Mallory to the man behind her. “Is there a problem?”

“You could say that uh…” Mallory’s gaze momentarily dropped to the name tag on the woman’s chest. “Emily. He keeps kicking the back of my seat.”

A look of exasperation came over the woman’s freckled face. “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to stop doing that. You can’t keep bothering other passengers.”

“Can’t a guy enjoy his music?” The man shook his head incredulously.

“You can, sir, but the peace and comfort of other passengers on this flight is a priority. If there are any more complaints, you might be forced to give up this seat, I’m afraid.”

“Bullshit. I want to talk to whoever’s in charge.”

The flight attendant’s jaw clenched. “If that’s what you want, I’ll be back shortly with—”

“No, I’m coming with you.” The man’s nose ring glinted as he unbuckled his seatbelt and got to his feet. “Let’s go.”

Emily looked like she was seriously considering a career change. She opened her mouth to speak but seemed to think better of it. With a glance in Mallory’s direction, she turned and began to walk down the aisle with the man trailing her.

“Good riddance,” Mallory muttered with a sigh.

The plane trembled again, and she clutched her MediPack, feeling its contents rattling inside. She leaned back against the headrest and let her eyes slide shut, forcing her breathing to steady. Just how much longer would it be until they touched down? Mallory couldn’t wait to get off this flight, not that she was particularly excited at the prospect of spending Thanksgiving or Christmas with her brothers. Looking back on it now, visiting Chicago might have been the dumbest decision she’d made in a while. Why couldn’t she have taken a real vacation as Dr. Grace had suggested? It wouldn’t have helped much, either, but if she was taking this silly sabbatical, she should have opted to spend the time on her own, not around people who didn’t care for her.

Too late now, she told herself. She was already on the flight. Her brothers would be expecting her at the airport. At this point, Mallory’s only option was to pray that Thanksgiving dinner wasn’t too awkward. Whatever the case, the next couple of months would be hell for her.

Better brace yourself, she thought.

No sooner had the thought entered her mind than a sudden, powerful shudder rocked the plane, forcing her to open her eyes. Gasps of surprise from the passengers swept through the cabin.

“What the hell just happened?” she heard a passenger yell.

Mallory sensed the impending chaos before it erupted. Around her, passengers had begun to grip their armrests, uttering prayers as the plane shuddered some more. An elderly couple held hands. With her heart in her throat, Mallory swept her gaze forward. In the aisle near the front of the cabin lay an unmoving form.

It occurred to Mallory that it was the guy from behind her. Emily, the flight attendant, was kneeling over him, a panicked expression on her face. Over the din that filled the cabin, it was almost impossible to make out what she was saying, but Mallory knew an emergency when she saw one.

Ignoring her own instinct for self-preservation that screamed at her to remain in her seat, she unbuckled her seatbelt and hurried into the aisle, her hand on the zipper of her MediPack as she neared the duo.

“I’m a nurse!” she yelled, hoping Emily could hear her over the chaos that surrounded them. “What happened?”

The flight attendant didn’t even have to respond. The man on the floor was unconscious, bleeding slightly from a cut in the back of his skull. No doubt he’d banged his head against something when the plane hit that patch of turbulence.

It wasn’t turbulence, Mallory, whispered a cautionary voice in her head just as the lights above her flickered.

Around them, barely anyone else seemed interested in the injured man. Most of the passengers were bracing themselves as if anticipating doom. Trying almost frantically to quiet the panic that liquefied inside her chest, she started to open the MediPack. This guy might be a jerk, but this was an emergency. He needed her help, and she needed to keep her mind busy amidst this chaos.

Before she could unzip the pouch, another violent tremor knocked her to one side, and someone screamed, “We’ve lost our wings!”

“Oh, God, we’re all going to die!” another passenger cried.

And then it happened: A sudden jerk filled her insides with a pang as the plane dipped. It took Mallory all of two seconds to realize they were going down and a third to realize she should probably grab onto something. But by then, it was too late. She felt her body lift off the floor as she was catapulted toward the back of the cabin. She slammed into the wall with a grunt, pinned by the sheer force of the plane’s descent like a shoddy reenactment of the crucifixion.

She wasn’t the only one affected. Passengers held on to their seats for dear life. The attendant and the unconscious man were nowhere in sight. Mallory figured they must have hit a seat or something. Blood stained the cabin floor. Mallory couldn’t determine if it belonged to the unconscious man or someone else. Right now, her most prominent thought was their impending death.

This wasn’t turbulence. Whatever had happened, Mallory wasn’t certain, but one thing was clear: Flight 18 was going down and fast. She heard a beeping sound, just barely distinguishable from the cacophony of cries from the passengers. Overhead, the lights continued to flicker. Still flattened against the back of the cabin, Mallory detected streaks of flame outside the windows.

They were going to crash right in the middle of Nebraska.

Oh, God, I should’ve stayed in Vegas.

Right at that moment, there was a huge explosion followed by a great shudder and a grating sound as the plane’s hull came apart, bright light filtering into the cabin. Suddenly, where there had been a wall behind her, the cool surface slowly heating up against her skin, there was nothing.

Mallory didn’t even have time to scream. One second, she was inside the cabin, crushed against the wall, and the next, she was airborne.