One Heart

18. On guard

Kensie

The airport was abuzz with activity. People wove in and out of the crowd with their luggage in tow. It was busier than Kensie had ever remembered, though she had never had cause to be so alert in the past. So protective. She held Sorah close while scanning the area, her senses vigilant.

Being one of the three main airports in Europe with connections to Earis, Lisbon was an epicentre for their kind. All gods-born would be drawn to Sorah, without even knowing who she was. Some would be friend, some would be foe, but even those with the best intentions may be enough of a threat in large numbers, if only in their potential to recognise her and draw attention.

Sorah nudged Kensie, pointing to the sign to their right. "Over there."

Josh sounded out the words on the sign, his accent heavy and his words clumsy. He ruffled up the hair at the back of his head as he processed from one language to another. "Luggage?"

Sorah smiled. "Bom trabalho, Josh"

He beamed back, shifting his backpack up a little higher and walking a little prouder. They'd travelled so frequently it was hard to focus on a single language to learn. Kensie and her parents were fluent in a few languages, while Josh and Daniella had been forced to learn on the go, able to speak almost as many, but rarely having the chance to become literate in more than their first language.

Kensie gripped Sorah's waist, holding her back as she moved toward the luggage return. "What do you think you're doing, Your Majesty?"

"I was going to get our—" Sorah's eyes widened.

Kensie gestured to the four soldiers standing by John. "They'll get our bags." They weren't dressed in their standard leather armour, and instead wore loose, black combat fatigues. To any human they looked like regular private security officers. What they couldn't see were the six daggers concealed by each soldier.

Red accents across the breast pocket set apart two of the soldiers—Royal Guard; most likely officers of the Queen's personal Lionheart Legion. Kensie didn't need to look at the uniforms of the other two to recognise them as Stealth Legion officers. It was in the way they held themselves. They moved with feline grace, fitting in amongst the crowd despite their obvious differences. They were trained assassins; they knew how to disappear.

It wasn't long before they were in the air again, this time in a private jet. Anna must have given strict orders for staff; they dealt only with John. Most likely had no idea who they were transporting. Not yet. Not until Sorah was safe in Earis.

There would be no time for relaxing on this flight. No tumbler full of scotch. They weren't among humans now, and they weren't as invisible as she would have liked. Though the staff showed discretion, she could feel the way they tensed around Sorah. The soldiers held steadfast discipline, but not many could train their internal reactions to perfection—the flutter of their heart, the rise and fall of their chest. Not the way Kensie could, and not in a way that escaped her notice. Sorah's likeness to Isha was strong. Perhaps strong enough to cause a twinge of pain in the hearts of her soldiers. Perhaps even enough to arouse suspicion. When paired with their natural inclination to serve—no wonder they were on edge.

Time crept past, the one-and-a-half-hour flight feeling longer than the first, the mere knowledge of what lay ahead enough to twist Kensie's stomach into knots. She wanted it to be over. To be on the ground and within the protective walls of their castle. A castle with a wealth of memories sure to overwhelm her on sight. Nearly thirty years ago she left, without looking back. Without taking the time to gather her belongings. The blood was still fresh on the walls.

She could still hear Isha's scream rattling through her mind. Could hear her name over and over—

"Kensie." Sorah's grip was firm on her thigh. Her eyes were wide. "Baby, look at me, please," she sent through their connection.