CROSSED

by Karin Tabke

  Rowland turned, barely containing his fury. As a father, he was outraged. As a U.S. senator, he saw his entire life’s work slipping away because his teenage daughter had an infatuation with an older man.

  “How long has this been going on?”

  Grace stood straight as a sudden infusion of indignation filled her. “Long enough for us to make plans. He’s leaving his wife.”

  “The hell he is! His ass is going to jail! Not only for sex with a minor but for the cocaine!”

  “It’s mine!”

  Oh shit.

  Rowland’s face blanched. “Do I mean so little to you young lady that you would buy drugs and cavort with a married man?”

  “Maybe, Daddy,” Grace spat, “if you had been around more, I wouldn’t have strayed! Here’s a newsflash for you: Your perfect little girl is not so perfect after all!”

  Jax inserted herself between the raging, heartbroken father and the defiant teenage daughter. “Sir, Grace. Please, this is not going to help clean this mess up.”

  “There is no mess to clean up! Alan and I are moving in together next month, just as soon as he leaves his wife. There won’t be anything anyone can do,” Grace defiantly stated as she moved past Jax for the door. She wheeled around and pointed an accusing finger at her father. “Not even a U.S. senator!”

  Something inside Jax snapped. Maybe it was the devastated look on the senator’s face as the daughter he cherished and loved above all others slapped him in the face for his dedication to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Maybe Jax was angry that this girl was throwing away something precious, something Jax had never had—a father who cared. Maybe it was none of the above, maybe she just didn’t like the way the spoiled little brat spoke to her father.

  “Sir,” Jax softly said, “may I have a private word with your daughter?”

  Rowland looked at her, still stunned.

  “Sir?”

  He nodded. Jax turned to the defiant teenager, gripped her by the elbow and steered her into the small room off the anteroom. She shut the door soundly behind her and took a deep breath.

  “Grace, I understand what you’re going through—”

  “No! You don’t!” Grace shouted, shaking her head. Jax was about to say she did, but Grace waved her off. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to be perfect 24/7? To have no friends? No boyfriends?”

  Sadly, Jax could relate. “More than you know. But listen to me. You must end it with LeVech. Your father is a very important man, Grace. He must win this election. If he doesn’t? There will be hell to pay in more ways than you could imagine.”

  Tears erupted. “I didn’t mean to hurt my father. I just want a normal life.”

  Jax felt compassion for the girl. She moved closer and patted her shoulder. “I know, Grace. But you need to fix this. Let’s get past the election and see what happens, OK?”

  The girl nodded but said, “I’m not breaking it off with Alan, but I promise not to see him until after the election.”

  Jax let out a long breath. “Fair enough. Now let’s get back in there and calm things down.”

  As they came back into the room, Grace softly said, “I’m sorry, Daddy.” But she made no move to him when he held out his hands. Slowly he lowered them.

  “Grace,” Jax asked, “were you aware you were being photographed?”

  “No,” she softly said, looking at the floor.

  “So that leaves two conclusions. One, the love of your life planted a camera, took the pictures and is now blackmailing your father—”

  “Alan would never do that!”

  “Which brings me to conclusion number two: Someone knew about the two of you and planted the camera.”

  “It wasn’t Alan,” Grace defended.

  “Who knew the two of you met—where is this place?”

  “He has an apartment.”

  “Who aside from the two of you know about it?”

  “I don’t know, he said it was just for us.”

  “Well, someone else knew about it. We’ll find out who.” She glanced at the senator, then said to Grace, “Please do not contact your boyfriend until we’ve spoken with him.”

  Grace nodded.

  “Grace, give me your word,” Senator Rowland said.

  Grace lifted her chin meeting her father’s hurt gaze. “I promise.”

  Jax looked to Dante and said, “Have HQ give us the 411 on LeVech, maybe he’ll listen to the true voice of reason.”

  Jax strode over to the table with the photo and slid it back into the envelope. She sealed the plastic bag and handed it to Shane, then looked up at the silent senator. “Dante will escort you home while my partner and I go to speak with Mr. LeVech. We’ll be at your place nine tomorrow morning for a briefing.”

  She strode out of the room knowing Shane would follow.

  Jax flew down the marble stairways, her adrenaline pumping hard and fast, infusing her for the third time that night with energy she could barely contain. She held her breath all of the way down to the front entrance, where she expelled it in one long, harsh woof.

  “What a clusterfuck!” Shane, said, hurrying to keep up with her.

  No kidding. “The implications to national security aside, Shane, the entire episode sickened me. I’ll bet you my next round of hazard pay the only thing LeVech wants from Grace Rowland is a meal ticket.”

  Nineteen

  “I’m sure she texted him the moment we left the room,” Shane said.

  “That slimy bastard is going to wish he’d never met Grace Rowland when I get done with him.”

  “Cassidy—” Shane started. She ignored what she knew was coming.

  Jax cut him off when she realized she didn’t have her cell phone. “Would you call Naomi and get an address on LeVech?”

  “Why don’t you let me take care of LeVech?”

  Vehemently she shook her head. “No way. I want a crack at him.”

  “I think it would be better for everyone if you chilled out.”

  Jax abruptly stopped and turned to face him. “I don’t need to chill.”

  “Have you taken a look at yourself, Cassidy?” Shane asked. “You look like a hype who’s seen better days. You can’t go anywhere looking like you do. Not to mention you seem to have some personal vendetta LeVech.”

  “Vendetta aside, Shane, I’m going.” She turned on her heels and strode past him.

  Shane grabbed her arm. The touch startled her. She whirled around and shoved him away. The velocity of her move sent him sprawling onto his ass.

  “Jesus Christ, Cassidy!” Shane bellowed. He lay spread-eagled a good ten feet away from her on the asphalt. His stunned face looked up to her. What had she just done?

  She strode up and stood over him, so ramped up on the continued surge of adrenaline that she could barely keep her feet planted. “Don’t touch me. Not when—not when I’m unprepared for it. Not when you’re angry.” Jesus. What was wrong with her? He wasn’t Montes, he was Shane, her partner.

  She reached down to offer him a hand up, but he shook his head and managed without her assistance. As he brushed himself off, he gave her a sideways glance. “I thought you were over that.”

  “I am!”

  “Then what’s gotten into you tonight, Cassidy?” he softly demanded.

  Jax shook her head. She knew, but she didn’t want to go there. Didn’t want to think about it. For once, the least threatening option to occupy her thoughts was Cross.

  Cross. He was the reason she was so off balance. She felt out of sorts, not herself, but better than herself. Supercharged. She ran her finger through her hair, securing the errant locks behind her ear. And there was the vampire thing.

  “Cross has me rattled,” she said, hoping to steer him away from her behavior. It worked.

  Shane smoothed down his suit jacket and said, “The whole vampire thing is unbelievable.”

  “No shit.” Jax struggled with the unbelievable factor herself and what she had witnessed with her own
two eyes. This entire mission was taking on an entirely different dimension from what they had anticipated. Cross a vampire. She still couldn’t believe it—what Cross did tonight. He had saved her life.

  “You’ve been through a lot tonight. Go back to your hotel room, Cassidy,” Shane said, looking over at her. “I’ll pay LeVech a visit and find out who’s been taking pictures of him and Grace Rowland.”

  Jax stopped abruptly and shook her head. “I want to kick his ass.”

  Shane laughed, easing some of the tension. “You can’t just go kick everyone’s ass, Cassidy. There’s finesse that goes into this. Like the way you finessed Cross tonight. You must have gotten to him for him to come to your rescue like he did. And showing you his skills? That’s huge. Better for us to prepare. Now stay the course.”

  “But LeVech’s a smarmy bastard who deserves an ass kicking,” Jax pushed, ignoring his compliment and acknowledging the job she’d done tonight. She had scored big-time.

  “Yeah, he is,” Shane countered, “and it’s not the end of the world. That kind of thing happens. You can’t save every little girl from every predator out there. You’ll die trying. Go back to your room, take a hot shower and get some sleep. I’ll brief you in the morning.”

  He turned and strode down Van Ness toward the rental car, leaving her standing alone on the curb. Why couldn’t she save the world?

  “Screw you!” Jax yelled at his retreating back, then hailed a cab.

  She was so amped that she could have sprinted across town to the hotel. The cab ride only took fifteen minutes, but it seemed like hours.

  She tossed the cabby a wad of cash and bounded out of the smelly car, then hoofed it up to her room at the Hotel Sokko, just on the fringes of the Tenderloin. She used her security card to enter the building and took the stairway up to the twenty-third floor, where there was extra security. Finally, she entered the quiet sanctum.

  Instead of flopping onto the thick comforter on her bed, Jax shucked the remnants of her dress and removed what was left of her weapon jewelry. She stood naked in front of the mirrored closet doors. For a long moment, she stared at the stranger peering back at her.

  She’d aged. Stress lines accentuated the full curve of her lips. Cynical green eyes glittered in anxious tension. Her thick mahogany-black hair hung in unruly hanks around her pale skin. She looked like a zombie, with dark mascara smudges surrounding her deep-set eyes. Her red lipstick had smeared off hours ago, revealing dry pink lips. She licked them. As she did, she shook her head, tossing her hair behind her shoulders. A small bruise on her bottom lip, barely noticeable, pulled her closer to the mirror. Lightly, she brushed her fingertips across the slightly swollen spot. A warm wave of pleasure flowed across her skin, causing her to recoil.

  “Cross,” she whispered. The hair on the back of her neck rose, her nipples tightened and her womb clenched. The air grew warm around her. If she’d been in her right mind, she would have sworn she could smell him. She closed her eyes and pretended he was there. She gasped as a warm breath crossed her right shoulder blade. Her eyes flew open and she stared at the mirror, sure she would see him smug and arrogant behind her. But there was nothing.

  Jax stared at her body. While she was toned and in the best physical shape of her life, the scar that marred her belly and trailed down to her pelvic bone was ragged and ugly, a constant reminder of what had happened to her and what she had done about it. Jax had always prided herself on her physical attributes. She was no fool. She knew men liked her open personality and sexy curves, she had no problem flashing her assets to glean information. Since her rape, she’d viewed her body as a last-resort weapon. A way to inflict pain, to gain and hold control. She wanted to believe she was capable of sleeping with Cross—or any man, for that matter—then walking away, feeling as if she had just done her job. But it was a bitter pill to swallow. She wasn’t a whore who used her body for gain. She was a lethal operative. Her body was her own to use as she saw fit, not a means to an end.

  The adrenaline that had begun to subside kicked up again. What did Cross have in store for her? Just thinking about what was ahead excited her. However, what was behind her confounded her. The last ten hours had been off the hook, crazy exciting. So much had happened that she couldn’t explain. Yet, if she allowed her imagination to take off, there were more possible explanations than she could count, and every one of them scared her.

  Was Cross really a vampire? He’d been candid in light of their relationship. Had he admitted it because he knew no one would believe her if she told them? Or because he was going to eliminate her? Maybe both.

  Jax was a practical woman who believed in ghosts, but that was about as far as her beliefs in the otherworld went. How was she supposed to swallow Dracula stuff? But she knew Cross was different. Something not mortal. He proved that tonight. No mortal could do what he had done. Then there was the other part. He invaded her dreams as if he was beside her; she felt him. Her senses were so heightened that she could smell, see and feel like a cat! And the blood thing. His blood. It was in her, it gave her those heightened senses. A heady drug. Either he infused himself with high-octane vitamins or he was . . . what he said he was. A vampire.

  Holy hell! Her adrenaline spiked. Shaky-kneed Jax made it into the big bathroom and turned the shower on hot. But no matter how long she stood under the pulsing water, her skin shivered. Her gut told her she was in way over her head. That Marcus Cross was stronger and smarter than all of L.O.S.T. combined and that she was on a suicide mission.

  Jerking the knobs, she turned off the water and stood unmoving in the large tub. She rubbed her hands through her hair, squeezing the water from it. Stepping from the shower, she grabbed a thick velour towel and wrapped it around her body.

  Loud pounding on the door drew Jax out of the steamy bathroom. Her body tingled.

  Cross.

  On impulse, Jax strode to the door, unlocked the double locks from the inside and yanked the heavy metal door open. Be still her heart.

  He was so damn handsome. A far cry from the bloodied bullet-ridden Cross she had last seen. He had cleaned up. He cleaned up well. Really well. His hair still damp from his shower. His face clean-shaven. His clean, dusky scent swirled around her. He stood with one hand braced against the outer doorjamb, his jacket thrown over his shoulders; his fitted black shirt hugged his broad chest and tapered down his narrow waist into black trousers.

  Jax smiled smugly and assumed the same pose but from the inside of her room. “Did you come here to gloat?”

  “I came to ascertain your well-being.”

  “Right.” She backed away and grabbed the door handle. “I don’t need you to fight my battles for me.”

  Cross put his right hand out against the door, stopping her from slamming it in his face. “Tonight, you did.”

  “Screw you, Cross! I didn’t ask for a babysitter. I could have handled those guys by myself.” She shoved the door harder. It didn’t budge.

  “Don’t you want to know why they were after you?” he slyly asked.

  Jax jerked her head back and narrowed her eyes. “What do you know?”

  “Invite me in, and I’ll tell you.”

  Jax contemplated his request. “How did you get up here? This is a secured floor.”

  He slid his hand into his trouser pocket and withdrew a security card. For some reason, Jax was relieved. If he hadn’t had a card, he would have had to have turned into a bat to get in. She shook herself and realized she was damp and naked save for the towel clinging to her. She was also losing her mind. When he grinned she nearly puddled on the floor. His face, his scar, his eyes radiated when he genuinely smiled. She could get used to that smile. Too bad she had to kill him.

  Knowing she was probably making the mistake of her life, Jax stood back and said, “Come in.”

  Cross grinned, flashing bright white teeth. “Thank you,” he said softly, stepping past her.

  Jax closed the door behind him and locked it. Putting her hands be
hind her back, she leaned against the door and eyed him when he turned that dangerous smile on her. “So tell me.”

  He laid his jacket over the chair back by the desk. As if he were staying. “Tell you what?”

  “Cross, stop being an evasive ass. Why were those guys after me?”

  He shrugged. “They weren’t after you per se. They were after the person who came after the guy you were chasing.”

  “That makes no sense.”

  He leaned up against the bathroom doorjamb crossing his arms over his chest. “It could if you told me why you were chasing him.”

  Jax fought a smile. He was sly with his angle. “One of the guests was attacked. I was bored. So, I followed the bread crumbs.” Jax pushed off the door and walked toward him. “How did you know I was here?”

  Cross casually shrugged. “Like the organization you work for, the one I work for has eyes and ears everywhere.”

  Jax yanked the big fluffy bathrobe from the counter where she had left it. She slipped it on, then dropped the damp towel that still clung to her. She watched Cross’s eyes dip for a look before she secured the velour sash around her waist.

  Jax ignored his “organization” reference. She turned and asked over her shoulder, “Why did you call me off tonight?”

  He moved behind her, his big body warm and inviting. His large hand brushed her hair from her shoulders. He bent down to where her arm met her shoulder. Gently he brushed his lips across her skin. Jax remained rigid. She was not going to get all gooey like she had earlier. This time she would control every move. “I changed my mind,” he replied.

  Jax turned slowly and looked up into his hooded eyes. “Did you come here to give me my alternative mission?”

  “Maybe.” He grinned that grin again. “Maybe not.”

  Jax eyed him for a long, long time. He was quite a specimen. Big. Broad. Muscular. His hands were the size of dinner plates. His fingers thick and long, his nails square and neatly trimmed. His face. His face classic Greco-Roman in style and grace. Firm yet boldly sculpted. The scar that ran from his right eye down his face and into his shoulder added to the dangerous air that swirled around him like his unique scent.