The exit opens at the back of the arena and I drop to the ground. Shoot. Excessive celebration. Not very Vigilante.
I crawl forward, thankful for the jeans. A drop-dead-gorgeous black-haired woman comes out, walking too fast to be normal. Is it her? I can’t tell in the uneven light of the parking lot.
Maybe this woman is just late for something. She heads toward the rows of cars. I close the door quietly and move to the back of a delivery truck as she passes by about four cars down. Her hair swings like a shiny curtain. She’s petite but everything about her is like a panther, strong and stealthy.
It’s her. I would bet on it.
And the gun is in the car.
Crap.
Something on her wrist lights up. A watch! She starts talking into it.
A Vigilante watch?
Maybe. I mean, there are ordinary watches you can talk to. They have Internet, as well as remote controls for cars and house functions. Those have been around for years.
But they’re not popular accessories. Particularly not for stylish women.
This has got to be her.
I crouch down and run alongside the cars, staying as near as I dare. She stops for a second to growl into the watch. Now I can hear her loud and clear.
“He just showed up here! Jax! Klaus is taking care of him.”
Shit! She said Jax!
My breathing speeds up. The menace in her voice could scare paint off a wall.
I try to think what to do. This woman looks strong, like she’s trained to take people down. But she is dressed well, in a short skirt, a button-down top, and heels. I don’t care how good you are, heels make you less stable and an easier mark.
“Sutherland, are you cutting me out?” she asks. “Nobody told me Jax survived the blast.”
Sutherland? The creepy dude in Colette’s car? The head guy? I scarcely dare to inhale, trying to listen to every word. This is the most important conversation of my life.
“All right. Fine,” she says. “I’m coming to the Washington office. I can’t get there until tomorrow night.” She jingles her other wrist with its collection of bangles. She’s agitated. “Don’t avoid me like you did in Chicago,” she insists and smacks the watch. The light goes out.
I glance around. She’s walking again. I have to get to her before she gets to her car.
And do what? Attack her? Shit. I need Jax. I don’t know what he wants with her.
Then I remember.
She blew up my HOUSE.
Bitch.
I don’t think for another minute but take off in a dead run. I’m going to enjoy watching her pretty face skid across the asphalt.
13: Jax
The corners of Klaus’s lips twitch. “Feeling okay, Jax?”
I say nothing, instead making my own feint to aim a sharp blow at his diaphragm. He blocks it and tries to throw me like I did him a moment ago. It takes every effort to resist the motion and stay put.
We trade blows and blocks. I can’t gain the advantage.
Finally I grab his hand, and the skin feels strange under my grip. Loose, almost like it’s disconnected. I twist and yank hard. A piece tears away with a sickening sound.
Klaus smiles as he holds up his hand. He’s wearing some sort of very fine, thin glove. It imitates his real skin almost perfectly.
“The latest in Vigilante tech,” he says. “Prosthetic skin as weaponry. Amazing what we can do with it.” His gaze locks on mine. “Like administer contact poisons in complete safety and secrecy.”
Of course. That’s why he’s stalling, and that’s why he’s able to match me.
“I had hoped the bomb would do the job,” he continues, sounding bored. “Apparently I miscalculated.”
So he wasn’t trying to let me escape. He simply had no skill.
“You’re no Sam, that’s for sure,” I growl.
“Yes, Sam. We’ll have to do something about him someday. Colette too, I suppose. Too bad, I liked them.”
I blow off his threat. “And who is we, Klaus? More than you and Jovana?”
“More than you know, Jax.”
He’s relaxed now, thinking he’s won. I run through mental exercises to control my breathing and heart rate. If he keeps talking, I may just pull this off, even with poison coursing through my bloodstream.
“I know Sutherland’s involved,” I say with mock strain.
“Do you now?” Klaus looks bemused. “I bet you have no proof.”
“What I know, others will know soon enough. Especially if I disappear.”
Klaus laughs. “No one is surprised when someone dies on a kill order. How amateur, Jax. You really are hard up these d—”
I don’t let him finish. With as much speed as I can muster, I lash out but deliberately overstep the move. Klaus moves to counter with a lazy, confident block. I twist and hook his leg, throwing him off balance. I catch a look of panic in his eyes as I slip behind him. I grip him in a headlock and my fingers dig into pressure points.
“Now talk, you son of a bitch,” I hiss, “or I’ll paralyze you from the neck down.” My anger is palpable.
Klaus gurgles and struggles. I press harder and he yelps.
“Stop! Okay! Yes, Sutherland is involved!”
“How? What’s his plan?”
“I don’t know! Ow! God damn it, Jax, I’m telling the truth, I don’t know! It’s all Jovana’s game!” He gasps, his breathing ragged. “I’m just the security guy, that’s all! Covering up, cleaning up! Like always! I swear!”
Klaus never was very brave.
“Where is Sutherland now?”
“I don’t know! Again, Jovana. Ask her!” He sucks in a breath. “Seriously, Jax. You don’t have much time.” He pauses. “You need an antidote. And Jovana has already left. We agreed that if we got separated, she would take off and alert Sutherland.”
My anger cools. I can feel the poison working faster as my blood rushes. I have to stay calm, slow it down.
Klaus coughs, a weak and helpless sound. “What’s it going to be, Jax? Go get your antidote or finish me off?”
I answer him with a sharp blow to the back of the head. He slumps in my arms and I dump him on the cold tile floor. Then I stagger out the door.
The antidotes are in my car. Not the one in the parking lot, but the Aston Martin a half mile away.
14: Mia
Jovana stops walking, her back to me, as if she’s waiting for me to arrive.
Just as I reach her¸ ready to knock her to the ground, she turns.
Her arms are a blur as her fist slams into my belly, then her elbow crashes against my chin. I stumble for a minute, but I’m in a blind rage, so I launch myself at her again.
I remember how Jax brought me down with a blow to the back of the knee. I kick at her leg, miss by a mile, but in the heels she isn’t quite as solid, so she takes an uncertain step to the side.
My adrenaline is surging as I wrap my arms around her waist and bring her down. We both land on the asphalt, but it’s my arm that takes the brunt of the fall.
Pain screams through my body, but I ignore it. I figure if I can’t beat her in a fight, I can at least make her life difficult for a little while. I snatch at the watch and jerk it from her wrist. It flies through the air and lands with a crunch somewhere down the row.
“You little bitch!” Jovana says. She’s trying to get her hands on my neck, and I know what that’s all about. Jax did that pinch thing to me in the car.
Not today.
I grapple with her, keeping her from getting enough control to bring me down with one of those death grips. Her bag falls off her shoulder, and I kick it like a football, scattering the contents. Might be something interesting in there if I can grab it.
She rolls me onto my belly, and I know from watching the fights that this is bad. I don’t let the momentum stop, though, and manage to keep going so I’m on my side. Now her bag and its secrets are under me. I reach behind me with one hand, trying to find something to use a
gainst her, while the other fends off her attempts to get me in one of those vise grips.
I’m already wearing out, though, and I know this battle is going to end as fast as it started if I can’t find a way to get the upper hand. All I’ve had working for me so far is the element of surprise and her high heels.
I find something round and metal and hold it out. It’s a weird little device with a bottle attached. I push down on it and a vapor steams out of it.
Ha, a lethal gas, I bet. I hold my breath as Jovana blinks from the rushing of air.
She knocks it away. “What, you going to kill me with my asthma treatment?”
Damn.
She jumps on top of me, pinning my arms.
I’m screwed now. My breathing is labored, my heart crashing in my chest like a mad drummer in a punk band. She wanted me dead in my house. This might be it. The beginning and end of my Vigilante days.
“Who the hell are you?” she asks.
“Your worst nightmare,” I say.
Smooth, Mia. Quote a bad movie.
Her perfect eyebrow quirks up. Even with her hair all over the place, she’s undeniably one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen. It’s not lost on me that she’s sitting over me like she probably used to do on Jax.
I go limp on the asphalt. I’ve messed up in so many millions of ways. Jax is going to kill me.
If his Vigilante ex-lover doesn’t first.
“What are you after? Money? Drugs?” Jovana’s expression is hard. “You picked the wrong bitch to mug.”
Light begins to dawn. She doesn’t know who I am. Like, really doesn’t. Hasn’t she seen my picture?
Of course, I don’t photograph well. Probably the only thing in their system is my driver’s license, where I resemble a strung-out meth addict. Plus, I’d tried to give myself highlights the day before, and it looked like I had spaghetti stuck in my hair.
“You got any cocaine?” I ask. “Angel dust? PCP?” I don’t know what the hell I’m saying. That’s all I can remember from some anti-drug lecture in sixth grade.
Jovana pushes away in disgust. “You filthy Americans,” she says. “Your self-destructive habits.” She stands up and snatches her purse. “Pick up my things.”
“You got cash, then?” I ask.
“Ugh, here.” She flings a wad at me. Dollars flutter against my chest and I trap them as if I’m desperate.
I shove them in my jeans pocket and pick up the items on the ground. Nothing special. Normal girl stuff. Lipstick. Mirror. Receipts. Then something. A strange silver wand. I pick it up.
Jovana snatches it from me. “Now scram,” she says.
I turn away and run.
I don’t look back as I dodge cars, weaving through them, my hands clenched tight. I pretend to stumble, pick myself up, and keep going. I slow down as I hear a door slam and an engine whir, the quiet whine of an electric.
She drives along the rows and leaves through the guarded exit. Only then do I stop and turn around to head back to the blue Acura. I could believe that I utterly failed in my task. If I wanted to stop her, then it’s true.
But I didn’t fail. She has a meeting with Sutherland tomorrow night she can’t be late for, not after her hissy fit. And I can’t wait to tell Jax that I know where she’s going.
And that she’s missing this.
I open my fist. Her watch is in my hand.
15: Jax
The corridors are a fun house of people, colors, and walls that don’t want to stay still.
I push through the crowd, my breathing labored, trying to focus, vainly hoping to keep my heart rate low, slow the poison down.
The halls get quieter as I near the exit, grateful I have managed to stumble the right way.
Then a voice, menacing and low. “I’ve been looking for you.”
It’s the security guard I dropped earlier. He’s rubbing his shoulder. He looks wary as I approach. He unclips his radio from his belt and says into it, “Found the perp. Come and get him.”
Whatever. I hold my arm out menacingly and he backs away. I walk past him. I’ve almost made it.
“Oh, no, you don’t,” the guard says. He comes up behind me and cracks me on the head with something.
I turn to drop him again, but he has a friend with him now. The two of them reach out with their arms, both holding their radios like they’re going to whack me again. With radios.
“You know, you’re going to break those,” I say. “They’ll probably dock your pay.”
The new guy looks up at the radio, as if realizing what I say is true. “My job isn’t worth this,” he says.
“You guys seem like professionals,” I say. “I’m in the business myself.”
“What business?” the first guy asks.
“Security,” I say.
“Who for?” he demands.
I wave my arm around. I feel drunk. Which poison feels like this? The one Mia had? I’ll have to tell her which antidote to use.
The new guard steps forward, and I swing around, arms out. Their outlines are fuzzy, but I’m not out yet. “Colt McClure,” I say.
“The fighter?” one asks.
“Yes, check with him. I’m fetching his car.” I stab at Colt’s backstage pass still hanging from my neck. “Heading out. You won’t be seeing me again.” I’m definitely slurring my words.
The two men look at each other.
“He has a damn pass,” the new one says.
“He didn’t have it before,” the other argues.
I don’t have time for this. “Pardon me, gentlemen,” I say.
“I don’t think you’re up for driving,” one says.
I can’t distinguish them anymore. Their voices sound like they’re passing through water.
I turn away and stride toward the door. “No time for chitchat,” I say. They don’t follow, but watch me. Their silly radios are still in the air.
I push through the exit and into the night, praying Mia is ready with the car.
The blue Acura is still in its spot and a wave of relief crosses over me. I try to run, to signal her to drive up for me before the guards come out and slow me down. But instead I’m falling, the ground rising up to meet my face.
16: Mia
Oh, no. Oh, no.
Jax. Jax. Jax!
I see him come out, stumbling, barely able to stand. Then he drops to the ground.
He’s hurt!
I jerk the car into drive, glad I have it all ready to go, hood secured, fuel tank closed, and Jovana’s watch tucked away in the dash.
I pull up to the arena door and jump from the car.
Jax is back on his knees, mumbling something incoherent.
Two security guards burst out the door, then halt when they see me.
I try to lift Jax, but he’s too heavy.
“What are you staring at?” I snap at the two men. “Help me get him into the car.”
When they just stand there, I about lose it. “Help me RIGHT NOW.”
They hurry forward.
“Get the door,” I tell one.
He opens it, and I start pulling Jax up to me.
“Get his other arm,” I command the other.
Between us, we get Jax into the seat.
“Ma’am,” one says sheepishly. “We have to take him in for attacking a guard.”
I whip around. “YOU are going to take in the deputy of HOMELAND SECURITY?” I’m totally making this up, but these guys don’t look too bright.
“The what?”
“He’s undercover. Some of these fighters are in danger. Do you know Colt McClure? You idiots!” I throw up my hands. “I’ll have you court-martialed!” As I round the front of the car, I realize they’re just hired security. “Never mind. You’re civilians. Just get out of our way.”
They keep staring at me as I jump in the front seat. When I stomp on the gas, they leap back.
Good riddance.
As soon as we’re past the exit, I gun it down the street
and past the arena. There’s a gas station on the next block, so I screech into the lot and slam the car into park.
I turn to Jax. “What is it, baby?” I feel along his shirt. I don’t see blood anywhere. “What is it?”
He’s slumped against the door.
I grab him and pull him in to me. “Tell me what it is so I can do something!” I slap his cheek.
He sucks in a breath, and I think he’s going to say something, but then he slumps again.
I can’t hold him. He’s too heavy.
What the hell do I do? Hospital? Would the Vigilantes find out?
Oh God.
His stomach makes a strange sound, and I flash back to when I got hit by the poison dart.
Yes, that’s it. He’s been hit too. They got him.
Shit. How long do I have? Is the antidote in his car?
I sit back and jerk the car into gear. In seconds I’m barreling into the lot where we left the Aston Martin.
I pull up next to it and jump out of the Acura. Jax’s car is locked tight.
His watch will open it. I wrench the passenger door open and pull on his arm. Not close enough. I yank the watch from his wrist. When I whirl around, the car unlocks.
Thank God. A quick glance in the car tells me nothing useful is inside. Please tell me he didn’t leave them back at the hotel. It’s too far.
I punch a button on the dash, glad I got familiar with the car when I stole it from Klaus, and the trunk pops open. In the back are the Vigilante cases, both Jax’s and the ones that were there from Klaus.
I don’t really know what I’m looking for, but hopefully the antidotes will be in vials or tubes or needles and not some fancy method of delivery that I don’t recognize. I dump out the first case. Several real guns. Those belong to Klaus. If he poisoned him, he should have the antidote.
A smaller case slides out. I jerk it open.
Five vials with capped needles.
Antidotes? Or poisons themselves?
I have no idea.
God.
I glance over at Jax. Should I hit him with them all?
That could be worse!
The Vigilante's Lover III Page 7