Page 315 of Black Reign

She is under my protection.

My attorneys.

My security.

My name.

Anyone trying to quietly move her into a Blackwell interrogation facility will now have to explain why they're detaining Xavier Blackwell's wife without counsel.

My father hates this.

That improves the plan considerably.

Sabine hates that I phrase it as a plan.

That improves my mood considerably.

The real difficulty is getting her to France.

I don't discover the problem until we are standing in the private terminal outside London and Sabine stops at the bottom of the aircraft stairs.

She doesn't move.

I look at her.

She looks at the jet.

Then at me.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Sabine.”

“I'm looking.”

“You've seen aircraft before.”

“From the ground.”

I wait.

She adjusts the strap of the small bag on her shoulder.

Her caramel hair is loose today. No wig. No contacts. She has allowed herself sunglasses, but I can still see the faint blue of her eyes behind them.

Something about her has changed since London.

Not softer.

Never that.

Less hidden.

At least with me.

“What are you not telling me?”