by Karin Tabke
Not good. If Shane had at least been here, Jax could have gotten a handle on time, and where he might have gone from here. She thought for a moment, then returned her steely gaze to the blonde. “Did anyone show up who wasn’t scheduled? And where is the mayor now?”
The woman’s eyes bugged out of her head. She looked terrified, and not of Jax. “Tell me who was here,” Jax shrieked, “or you’ ll have me to worry about on top of them!”
The blonde whimpered and licked her lips. “A man,” she began softly. She cleared her throat. “H-he told me to forget I ever saw him.”
“What time?”
She glanced at the clock on the wall. ”About an hour ago.”
“What did he look like?”
“Sixties, bald, I think. He was wearing black from head to toe, including a hat, gloves and dark glasses.”
Jax cursed softly. Lazarus.
“And you didn’t think that was odd? That he didn’t want anyone to—”
“H-he was very convincing. When he left, the mayor was whistling Dixie. So no harm.”
Yeah. No harm. Except for Shane. “Where is the mayor?”
“I don’t know, honest. He canceled his last appointment. He said he would see me in the morning.”
Jax released the woman. “Call him.”
“Mayor Mercer?”
“Yes.”
Blondie looked like she was going to refuse, but Jax got back in her face. “Now.”
The woman picked up her cell and hit a speed-dial number.
“It’s me,” she said.
Jax grabbed the phone from her. “Mr. Mayor, my name is Jax Cassidy. I work for the FBI and I have a most urgent matter to discuss with you. I need to meet you ASAP.”
He hung up on her.
Jax looked incredulously at the phone. She hit redial and got his voice mail. “Look, you smarmy bastard, national security is at stake here. Whatever Lazarus told you today—whatever he threatened you with—is not going to be half as bad as what I’ ll do to you. I work for an organization protecting Rowland from Lazarus. He is a killer, do you understand me? He will use you and spit you out. Call me at 877-550-9210. NOW. Or I swear to God, I will kill you myself.”
She hung up and threw the phone down on the desk, then ran from the building, leaving Blondie to gape after her like a thirsty fish.
She hailed a cab and headed for the Rowland estate, hoping Shane was somehow there, and kept telling herself that Shane was a big boy and could handle himself. But Jax knew he would not be able to hold his own against Lazarus or any of his kind.
A sudden sobering thought occurred to her. What if Marcus was the one who’d taken Shane?
He’d once said he’d get information out of her team if she wouldn’t cooperate.
She shook her head. No, Marcus and Lazarus believed she was on their side. Unless. Shit! Unless they’d found out Skarskov was not dead.
But how? She remembered talking to Shane about it on the phone. Had his calling her by her first name been a clue, rather than a sign of affection? Had it even been Shane on the phone with her? Shit!
Jax called Dante. “Any word?”
“None,” he said grimly.
“I’m on my way to the Rowlands’ . Maybe the senator has something.”
“No one there. Grace is in the safe house, the Mrs. took off early this morning to Carmel for a fund-raiser luncheon, and the senator is in Sac meeting with the governor.”
Shit! Shit! Shit!
“Dante, I’m scared.”
“I am, too,” he said quietly.
“They have Shane,” she gritted out. “I know it. He never showed up at the mayor’s office, but Lazarus did, about an hour ago. I know he spoke with Mercer. When I called that prick, he hung up on me! I don’t know what Lazarus said or threatened him with, but he wouldn’t answer his phone when I called back.”
“Shane never showed up at the San Mateo coroner’s office either.”
Jax set the phone aside, slapped on the glass partition, and yelled at the driver. “Take me to the Sokko on Filmore.” She put the phone back to her ear. “I’m going to my hotel room and summoning Cross.”
“How are you going to do that? And what the hell for? You really think he’s going to help?”
She rubbed her temple. “Yes. No. I don’t know. But he’ ll come.” He had to!
“I’ ll be right there.”
“No, Dante. He’ ll know you’ re there and might stay away. Stand by for my call.”
“I don’t like this, Cassidy.”
“I don’t either, but I don’t know what else to do!”
“I’ ll get a ping on the cell towers and see if we can locate Mercer. I don’t know how, but he’s involved in this mess.”
Jax took a big, deep breath. “Stand by, Dante. This ride is going to get wicked.”
“It already has.”
“Marcus Cross! Come here now!” Jax screamed from her balcony. Her throat was raw. For over an hour, she had called for Marcus. He hadn’t come to her.
Damn bastard. This was all his fault. His fault for being involved with Lazarus. For making her let her guard down and believe she could trust him. What had she been thinking? He was the same, same as Lazarus—
Fairness demanded that she stop her foolish thoughts. She slammed her palm against a wall and took a deep breath. This wasn’t Marcus’s fault. Not that she knew of, but she was terrified for Shane. For herself.
For all of them.
“Please, God, let him be OK,” she prayed.
But she knew he wasn’ t. There was only one reason he was gone: The Solution had him, and it was her fault, not Cross’ s.
Somehow, some way, she’d messed up. She’d been too cocky. Sparring with Marcus and thinking she’d had them all fooled, when all along—
She squeezed her eyes shut when the images of Alan LeVech’s bloody body flashed in her mind’s eye. “No!” she shouted. She could not stand the image of Shane lying in his own blood, his throat ripped from his body.
No more messing up. No more.
Quickly, she dressed in a pair of black cargo pants, a black wife beater and an old pair of worn combat boots. She hauled the metal ammo box that had been delivered earlier onto the bathroom counter. It was chock-full of vampire killing ammunitions.
She picked up her pistol and loaded it with the silver-tipped wooden rounds, then grabbed the extra magazines of the same, stored them with the pistol in her holster, then, for good measure, shoved a few loose bullets in her pants pocket on instinct. Next she grabbed three silver-tipped wooden stakes and slid them into her thigh pockets. Lastly she grabbed a thick silver chain and dumped it in her hip pocket. She shoved several smaller ones in her back pockets.
She was armed to the teeth and dared any vampire, even one as powerful as Lazarus, to mess with her.
She strode into the bedroom and gasped. Marcus stood at the door.
She rushed him and began pummeling him. “Where is he? What have you done with Shane?”
Marcus grabbed her, holding her flaying fists away from him.
Jax wrenched away and reached for her Glock. Marcus knocked it from her hand and threw her onto the bed.
“Who are you really?” he demanded.
“Where is Shane?” she cried, coming at him again.
He tossed her back onto the bed and followed her there, pushing her back into the pillows. “Answer me.”
Anger rolled off him in harsh waves. His eyes were red, his fangs drawn. It was time. Only the truth would suffice. If it would save Shane, then she would divulge all. “My name is Jax Cassidy. I work for a covert government-sanctioned operation. My mission isn’t just to protect Rowland but to infiltrate The Solution, then destroy Lazarus, as well as his operatives.”
“Including me?”
She nodded. “Including you.”
He stared at her, then stiffly moved away, picking up the gun from the floor. He chambered a round and handed it to her. “Then do it.”
<
br /> Her heart stopped beating for a moment. She took the weapon and aimed it at his heart. “Tell me where Shane is and I’ ll let you live.”
“I don’t know where he is.”
She moved the barrel a hair to the right and pulled the trigger. A bullet tore through his right shoulder. His body recoiled from the impact, but he didn’t make a sound. Just remained standing. His eyes narrowed. His dark shirt dampened with blood. She aimed at him again. “I don’t believe you.”
“I don’t care what you believe.” He stepped toward her again. She pulled the trigger and hit his left shoulder. He barely recoiled. A twin bloodstain to the one on his right shoulder erupted.
“Another step and this one goes into your heart.”
“Kill me and you kill yourself.”
“I doubt it.”
“Lazarus gave me the kill order on you tonight.”
“Lucky me.”
“I convinced him to allow me to turn you.”
“Never!”
He smiled then, despite his wounds and the blood. “How did I know you’d say that?” He looked out into the darkness, then back to her. “You give me no choice then. You’ re coming with me.” He grabbed at her, but she danced away.
“Is it that easy for you? Killing me?”
His eyes widened and he threw back his head and laughed. The sound wasn’t pleasant. “You just shot me. Twice. I could ask the same of you.”
“I didn’t kill you. Yet.” I never wanted to kill you, she thought. Not after having you. Knowing you.
“Nor will you, Jax.”
“You don’t think I can,” she challenged.
“No,” he said softly, “but more importantly, if you kill me tonight, Lazarus will come after you, and he will find you and kill you, but before he does, he will make you wish you had never been born.”
She believed him. Even if she hadn’t met Lazarus, she could see the honesty in Marcus’s gaze. But she had met Lazarus. She knew perfectly well what he was capable of—sending his team member to kill his own sister being only the beginning. “So you’ re being all knight in shining armor by offering to kill me instead? Without the torture first?”
He hesitated. “Yes.”
“Why would you even care?”
He set his jaw. “Because.”
“Because isn’t a reason.”
“It’s the only one you’ re going to get.”
Jax changed her tactics. “Why work for Lazarus when you can work for the real good guys?”
He looked bored all of a sudden. “I do work for the real good guys.”
“No, you don’ t. Lazarus is a terrorist with delusions of grandeur. The more he kills, the more trouble he makes for the U.S. government. It’s men like him, blinded by what they think is right, who jeopardize the freedoms over a million Americans have died to protect.” Jax looked hard at him, as if seeing him for the first time. “Did you lose your sense of humanity when you became like him?”
He snarled and moved so close to her that she felt his breath on her cheek. “Careful, girl. Talk about the pot and the kettle. Besides, you don’t know me. You don’t know how I think, how I feel. Don’t pretend to.”
“I know your type,” she spat, still thinking of Shane. “Anything goes so long as it’s in the name of patriotism. You’ re no different than those fanatic Jihadists.”
He grabbed the gun from her hand, stunning her with his quickness and strength. Then he grabbed her, trying to drag her to the door. She twisted, and kicked him hard in the groin.
“Stop fighting me, damn it,” he growled. “I’m not going to kill you. I’m going to give you something I have never given to any soul I have been sent to eliminate.”
She stilled, then almost gasped when she remembered the silver chain in her pocket. “What?”
He spun her around and cupped her face in his hands. “Your life.”
She gripped the chain in her pocket. “What about Shane?”
“If Lazarus has him, no one can help him now.”
Jax felt as if the air had been knocked out of her chest. Her team meant everything to her, yet he would do nothing to help.
But why would he? she thought. Would she have given Lazarus quarter? Still, the betrayal burned almost hotter than her body had when he’d touched her intimately.
“I thought you would be different, Marcus. I thought—” She shook her head. She was a fool. “I thought what happened here—”
His eyes had turned a cold, frosty blue. “Don’t let the sex muddy up the waters, Jax. I gave you what you wanted and you lost. Now move on.”
She glared at him from watery eyes. “I already have.”
Whipping out her hand, she lassoed the chain around his neck, cringing when she felt the heat of the contact and heard him groan in pain.
He released her, and she roped another foot of chain around his neck, pressing it into him until he was so weak that she knocked him unconscious. His skin burned where the silver touched. Call her crazy, but she felt—compassion. Shit. She reached down and unwound the chain, leaving it laying across his neck. There, he’d be down, but he would not asphyxiate. She owed him that much.
When he came around, she’d be long gone and Lazarus eliminated.
She ran out of the room, blinking back tears that clouded her vision. When she reached the lobby, she took a moment to think.
She grabbed her cell phone and called Godfather.
“Black,” he said.
“Sir,” Jax whispered.
“Cassidy?” he asked, anxious.
“Yes, sir. I have bad news.”
“Go ahead.”
“By all accounts, we’ ve lost Donovan.”
She told him everything then. When she was done, he called her home.
“No, sir. I have a mission to complete. Lazarus must be destroyed.”
“Listen to me, Cassidy,” he urgently said. “We need to regroup. We need to rethink this one.”
“No, sir,” she softly said. “I’m fully armed. There’s nothing to rethink.” She hung up then and moved.
She wouldn’t return to L.O.S.T. until Joseph Lazarus was dead.
Twenty-Nine
Looking for me?” Lazarus asked from the shadows.
Jax smiled to herself. Her tactic had worked: Feign vulnerability and the bad guy will reveal himself. Slowly she turned around and came face-to-face with evil incarnate.
“I applaud your tenacity, Miss Cassidy,” he said. “But I must chide you on your stupidity.”
Jax cocked a brow.
“Only an idiot would walk the streets of Oakland late at night and dare me to show myself.”
“Ah.” Jax smiled and slowly moved her hand across her chest. “Why don’t you come closer. I double dare you.”
The bastard actually snorted. “Bullets cannot hurt me.”
Well, fuck, she thought. If that was true, she was in for a world of hurt. If it was true. “Let’s find out, shall we?”
He was as fast as Marcus. Maybe faster. Before she was halfway to her pistol, he grabbed her hands and hoisted her a foot above the sidewalk. He threw her hard against the building wall behind her. She hit with a sickening thud. Pain flashed through her nervous system. It took her several moments to gain her wits and realize nothing vital was broken.
She looked up into his demonic stare. She slid her right hand into her pants pocket and gripped the stake there.
He smiled, showing long yellow fangs. “Now, Miss Cassidy, we’ ll see what you’ re really made of.” He squatted down to face her. In a quick, underhanded jab, she stabbed him in the chest with the stake. Lazarus hissed in shock. His eyes widened.
“Did you really think I was so naïve?” She grabbed the other stake and shoved it through his throat. Blood gurgled as he tried to breathe.
She kicked him away from her with her boot. As he tumbled backward, he yanked the stake from his throat, then the one from his chest. As he stood, he threw them to the ground. The blood flow imm
ediately dried up.
“Did you really think I was so weak?” he sneered.
He backhanded her so hard that her body spun like a top out of control and she crashed into the wall again. This time her head hit first with a terrible thunk. Then her world went black.
Jax moaned as another violent wave of electricity ripped through her body. She screamed and the voltage amped up. Her body jerked as she hung, helpless, like the catch of the day. She dangled, a foot off the floor, from chains attached to large meat hooks in what smelled like an abandoned meat-packaging plant. Her torturer moved the cloth-covered shock paddles from her belly, then ran a sharp-tipped finger across the rise of her breast. Jax kicked at him. He laughed and moved away from her. He set the paddles on a table with a few other undesirable items, including a meat hook and cleaver.
Jax stared at her feet, her limp, sweaty hair hanging in her face, trying not to whimper at the thought of that cleaver cutting through her skin. Tamping down on the overwhelming need to retch, she slowly lifted her chin and stared at the bastard in front of her. He made no effort to hide what he was. A vampire. Heartless.
If she’d met him on the street, she might have given him a second look. He was southern California handsome, a surfer with shaggy blonde hair. His red-rimmed brown eyes ruined the look.
“Who are you?” Jax hoarsely asked. He grinned. His fangs glowed under the harsh light.
“I’m Gideon.”
“Where’s Lazarus?”
Deep, blood-curling screams echoed into the room from somewhere down the corridor. Jax’s skin chilled even more, and her heart pounded so hard that she almost passed out. Gideon smiled. “He’s a little busy at the moment, but he asked me to soften you up for him.”
Another round of harsh screams rent the air. They were followed by a familiar voice cursing Lazarus for the bastard he was.
“Shane,” she whispered. Despite their predicament, hope washed over her.
He was still alive!
“A friend of yours?” Gideon asked, laughing. “Your relief is premature.”
She narrowed her eyes at his arrogance, then closed them to shut him out. To gather her wits.
Jesus, help me, she prayed. Help me think. Process.