The crowd of cadets was still waiting, watching.
Chase leaned forward and planted a smack of a kiss on Sylph’s mouth.
“Eh!” The blonde wiped her face with the back of her hand and ducked under the ropes, cursing all the while. The crowd howled, and Riot raised Chase’s fist and proclaimed her the winner.
Beyond the faces, Chase caught sight of Tanner’s back as he trudged out of the room. This time her heart lurched like she’d missed a step and nearly fallen down a flight of stairs.
? ? ?
The boys’ locker room was deserted. Chase followed Riot to the back by the sinks and showers. She’d been here before. With Riot. With other guys. It didn’t feel too good to remember, so she didn’t.
“That look on Sylph’s face when you kissed her was…” Riot sighed. “Kick-ass.”
“Great.” Chase dismissed that one fast. “Today in the air…what happened on your end?”
Riot ripped off a paper towel, wet it, and held it to her bottom lip. The cool water felt good against the slight swelling. “We got the speed records at one hundred thousand feet and headed back. Boring as ever.”
Chase’s whole body frowned. “Have you heard anything about a secret bird?”
“Nope. Don’t know anything about any Streaker jets,” he mocked and tickled her neck with a kiss. She slid out of his hold and wondered, not for the first time, exactly what she was doing with him. Was this about angering Sylph? No. Maybe.
“We saw something up there today.”
“A drone?” Riot’s face turned too serious too fast.
“It was a jet. A manned jet.”
“There are lots of those.” He wrapped his arms around her hips. Chase thought about asking if Sylph had ever said anything about a third Streaker, but before she could, Riot yanked her into the shower and pinned her under the nozzle. Her thoughts took off like a flock of dark birds.
Oh yes. That’s what she was doing with him.
“Kiss me?” His face was close. She stared at his lips but pressed her own together, shaking her head while trying not to smile. If she grinned, he’d kiss her, and although it was fun to tongue wrestle with Riot, the pregame was always better than the match.
He gripped the showerhead. “Kiss me or you’re getting doused.”
“You wouldn’t,” she dared.
He spun the handle. Icy water covered them. She screamed and he roared, but then the water began to flow warmer and everything started to heat up. He kissed her, and Chase’s mind hummed like she was revving Dragon’s engines. It had little to do with Riot though. She liked him, but what she liked best was the distraction. When she was tangled up with him, there were no trials to fret about. No demarcation line or Second Cold War.
The water seeped through her clothes, bringing a full body rush, and yet the image of Phoenix flew through her mind. Where did it come from? Why did it appear? Why didn’t Kale want her to know about it?
“We saw another Streaker,” she said into his hair.
Riot was too busy kissing her neck. “Never realized how much I liked you until I thought you were going to die. I think I love you.”
“That’s crazy.” She skipped over his declaration as though it were a mud puddle. “Why did you think I was going to die?”
Riot frowned. “Why is it crazy for me to love you?”
“Because you don’t know me.”
“I know you like this.” He pressed his hands on her hips and kissed her neck as though that was all the proof he needed.
“What’s my favorite color, Riot?”
“Huh?”
“Exactly.” Chase grabbed his hair, hauling his face from its desperate mission toward her cleavage. “Tell me why you thought we were dying.”
“They screamed over the emergency radio that you were crashing, but we didn’t have enough fuel to get back out to you. Sylph panicked.”
“Wait. Sylph was worried about us?”
“Jet Fighter Barbie has a heart after all.” He tried to kiss her again, but she held back.
“So…you were called to save me? The tower broke radio silence? What did they say?”
“Kale was yelling over and over, ‘Get to Dragon! Dragon is going down!’ They wanted us to get to you, although I’m not sure what we could have done except guard the crash site. Maybe call in your parachute if you had time to punch out.”
Chase’s mind turned over slowly. “They called you by name? I mean, they called Pegasus? Did they say, ‘Pegasus, get to Dragon?’”
Riot blew out a frustrated breath. “Who else would they be talking to?” He pulled her close and kissed the top of her head, which made her want to knock him away and fix her hair. Only she didn’t.
The pieces were lining up.
Dragon is going down!
That’s why the third Streaker had appeared. Phoenix wasn’t an enemy. It had been tuned into the same emergency frequency.
That pilot had answered the call to rescue them.
6
NO JOY
Loss of Radio or Visual Contact
Pippin was in their small room, looking bone-tired and sprawled across the lower bunk. He pulled off huge headphones when Chase came in, and classical music thumped through them. “What happened with Kale?”
“He wouldn’t say anything, but by my powers of deduction, I figured out that whoever Phoenix is, he’s a friendly. The tower called out to him. They thought we were crashing.”
“How could they make that mistake?” Pippin snarked.
Weariness rolled over Chase. Flying was one thing, but handling people’s emotions—even Pippin’s—took more out of her than she liked to admit. This was delicate. Pippin was being distant and tight-lipped about something important. She knew she should proceed with caution, but when he tried to disappear beneath his headphones, she sat on him instead.
“You’ve been weird since we saw the third Streaker.”
“You’re all wet!” He pushed her off.
“Incident in the showers.”