The blond turned smoothly away from Stone as though nothing had happened, but he was no longer smiling. "I need to speak with you."
"Later." Without another word, Mea pivoted and headed for the corridor.
Regan waited for Stone before following, relieved when he brushed by the other man without further aggression.
"Mea—"
"I said later, Job," Mea spoke without turning, setting a fast stride for her companions.
Stone paced her easily, but Regan trotted behind them, straining to keep up. She saw Mea dart a quick look at Stone.
"Thanks for not giving him what he deserves." Then she seemed to realize that Regan was falling behind and slowed. "Sorry, squirt."
"No problem," she chirped, edging between them to take both of their hands with a sense of happiness that was painfully sweet. Despair was still possible, but so was hope.
The transport was waiting, but there were no officials. Gratefully, Regan sunk onto a plush cushion, this time next to Stone. Sliding over, she leaned against him heavily. It was still morning, but it felt like days had passed since they'd left the ship. Closing her eyes, she missed the scenery again on their return trip.
Chapter 10
Mea watched the child rest so trustingly against Stone with a bittersweet pressure in her chest. How much longer did she have with her? How much longer did she have with either one of them? Her gaze moved to Stone. Not much longer now, she thought with an ache in her throat.
He was looking out the window, endeavoring to ignore the weight against his shoulder. When Regan had first leaned on him, he'd looked at the girl with eyebrows raised, then shook his head and stared out the window, but didn't move away.
Breathing deeply to loosen the bands of constriction around her chest, Mea turned her head away to watch the transport land before the Starfire.
"Regan, we're here," she called softly and watched with a tender smile as the girl yawned and stretched. She was going to miss her more than she thought possible.
After thanking the pilot, she exited the transport, the other two right behind her. When they started up the ramp, though, it was just Mea and Regan. Pausing about halfway up, they turned and waited for Stone. He stood like a statue at the bottom of the ramp, watching them with his usual inscrutable expression. He was free now to just walk away. Mike had said that no one would know he was not who he seemed. No one was forcing him to stay any longer. Mea waited for him to choose with a pounding heart.
"Stone?" Regan's voice was plaintive and after another long painful moment, he frowned and then slowly moved up the ramp.
For the child, Mea thought, both elated and disappointed. He's staying for the child. They passed through the hatch together, but then Mea felt his hand clamp onto her elbow with bruising force.
"We need to talk," he rumbled in her ear, and she felt whatever elation she once had evaporate. She slowed to allow Regan to get ahead of them.
"Are you hungry, sugar? Warren's probably whipping us up something in the mess right now."
"I hope so—I'm starving!" The girl flashed a grin over her shoulder, but it faded when she saw them.
Mea didn't know if it was her own expression or just intuition of youth, but the child knew something was up. "We'll be along shortly."
Regan eyed them for another second before shrugging philosophically and moving down the corridor. "Okay, but don't be too long. I might just eat it all!"
She disappeared into the mess hall, and Stone propelled the two of them past it to the cargo bay. Once there, he let her go at the sight of two technicians installing new cryotubes. They looked up curiously, and Mea gestured toward the door. "Could you leave us, please? You can come back later and finish."
They looked at each other and shrugged, leaving without a word as Mea eyed Stone warily. He looked relaxed and in control, but the bruises on her elbow said otherwise.
"I want the truth." His deep voice started out calm and conversational, but became more furious with every word. "I want to know why you changed my identity. You killed one of your own kind, mess with your android's head, put your job and your own goddamned life on the line and for what? You've got something planned for me and I want to know what it is! Goddamn it, woman, tell me!"
God, he was magnificent when he was angry! She really had to get him to speak more often—his deep, gravelly voice was acting on her like an aphrodisiac, and she bit her lip to keep a wicked smile off of her face. The pure, aggressive energy radiating out of his powerful body made her skin tingle and muscles tighten with anticipation. If he kept this up, she might just break her promise never to force him again.
"You're not ready to hear it."
At her calm voice, he looked ready to bite through metal. "What?" he snapped and began stalking slowly towards her. He moved like a cat and she watched him hungrily without backing away.
"Tell me how you feel about Regan." That made him pause. "Tell me why you would protect her and take care of her and sacrifice yourself for her."
"What the hell does that have to do with—"
"Just tell me."
He shifted uneasily. "I feel responsible."
She smiled bitterly. About this, she'd hoped she'd be wrong. "If you can't admit what you feel for her, you aren't ready to hear what I have to tell you."
She began to circle him and he turned to track her, hands clenching into fists.
"Just what the hell does one have to do with the other?"
Watching the muscles flex in his forearms and shoulders, she recklessly decided to tell him. It was a long shot, but as a hunter she gambled with her life every day. What was a little heartbreak? Besides, she might be wrong about him. That possibility goaded her on.
"I was hunting you, at first." She saw his lip lift in a silent snarl and chuckled, still strolling slowly around him. "Oh, don't worry, that was over in a hurry. Part of it was Regan—I fell for her immediately and her love for you was obvious. But then I looked into your eyes—" She cast a smoldering look out of the corner of her eye at him. "No man has ever rocked me like you do, handsome. I couldn't hunt you, but I followed the two of you anyway for the next couple of days. You see I was trying to figure out what was wrong with me. I've never given up a hunt before."
She started passing closer to him and he tensed, clenching and unclenching his fists rhythmically.
"I couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, couldn't stop thinking about you. Either one of you. You want to know why I gave you a new life?" She stopped directly in front of him and dropped her voice to a throaty murmur. "I was in love."
His reaction was explosive, hands locking painfully around her upper arms as he shook her and shouted, "Bullshit! I've seen the twisted games you play. Tell me what kind of sick plan you're hunting me for!"
With an angry snarl, she twisted out of his grip, stinging with disappointment. "Hunting you? Do you honestly believe that I couldn't have taken you at any point? Maybe you need to be shown."
Moving like lightning, she kicked his legs out from under him, slamming him to the ground and twisting swiftly to straddle him. Her anger evaporated with the action, and she couldn't hold back a wicked grin at this new provocative position. Leaning forward, she placed her hands on either side of his head, dark hair drifting down like a curtain. "Believe me, darlin', if I wanted you for anything else, you'd know it."
He tensed beneath her and Mea relaxed, knowing what was coming. She laughed softly as he knocked her arms away and flipped her, reversing their positions. Now he was crouched over her, the familiar knife pressing into the skin over her jugular while he held her with one hand around the throat. His grip was tight, but not painful. and it was all she could do not to wrap herself around him, knife be damned. It felt as though an electric current was steadily flowing from his touch through her body, making her reckless.
"If you wanted to be on top, all you had to do was ask." Laughter trembled at the edge of her words, but Stone didn't seem to be in a humorous mood. She felt the cold e
dge of his knife press harder as he bared his teeth in silent fury. She made a casual gesture to the weapon at her throat. "Is this foreplay or fear?"
"What's wrong with you?" he growled furiously, and she watched his muscles tense and flex as though on the verge of true violence. She wished she could see his eyes.
"I told you what's wrong with me. The question is: What're you going to do about it?" She stretched her arms above her head, arching her body provocatively and baring her throat further. "I said you weren't ready to hear it," she sighed, watching him through lowered lashes. "Prove me wrong, Stone."
With a wordless growl, he pushed to his feet, giving her a shallow slice in her skin as he did so. With an indrawn hiss of aggravation, she rolled to her feet to see him striding through the exit. Moving swiftly after him, she braced herself in the doorway, putting pressure on the cut and calling down the corridor to his retreating back.
"Shuttle port's to your right as you leave the ship. If you're ever planetside again, look me up!" Her tone was light and mocking, but a bitter pain burned in her chest as she watched him duck through the hatch. She took her hand away from the cut and looked down at the blood on her fingers with a twist of her lips.
Just then Regan popped out of the mess. "What happened?"
Mea looked into those big dark eyes and couldn't speak for a moment, but the girl must have seen it in her face.
"He's gone?"
"I'm sorry, baby," she sighed and moved forward as the girl's face crumbled.
Regan pressed her face against Mea as she held her. "Why?" she asked in a forlorn little voice that drove spikes through Mea's heart.
She rocked the child for a minute, trying for a way to explain. "Stone's been in hell for fifteen years. He survived by turning into an animal, all instinct and savagery. He can barely comprehend freedom, let alone love. Sweetheart, he's just not ready for us."
"So he's gone for good?" Regan whispered, turning a tearful face up to Mea.
"Well," she mused, biting the inside of one cheek thoughtfully, "there is one way to tell. Come on."
She led Regan up the corridor to the control room. Sliding into a seat, she moved swift fingers over the panel in front of her. "Let's see where Mr. Stubborn has gone."
"Running a trace?"
"Yup."
They watched tensely as the system tracked him down. Finally, his white silhouette appeared on the screen, pacing back and forth.
"He's at the edge of the port."
"What's he doing?"
"Deciding."
Regan placed a cold hand on her arm, and Mea covered it with one of her own. It would hurt like hell if he left on a shuttle, but at least she would understand why. This poor child, though, was watching her hero turn his back on her. It would be hard to understand that.
The silhouette went still for a moment before pivoting and moving purposefully away. Mea took a careful breath before speaking. "Well, I've got some good news and some bad news."
"What?"
"The good news is he's not headed for the shuttle port to leave the planet. The bad news is he's headed into the worst damned part of the city."
"Is he going to be okay?"
Mea chuckled as she rose to her feet. "Knowing Stone, probably not." Seeing the stricken look on the girl's face, she smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, I'm going after him. Can't let him wreak havoc on my own turf, can I?"
Regan smiled tentatively and followed her as she moved with purposeful strides down the corridor to her quarters. The girl paced in front of the door as she changed into a body suit and threw on a jacket to hide a couple of weapons she strapped to herself. Snapping a genetic tracer to her forearm, she headed back up the corridor to the hatch.
"Can I come with you?"
"No, baby. It's a bad neighborhood. Besides, I need you to baby-sit Warren for me. The techies drive him nuts and he'll need moral support. Where is he, by the way?"
"I don't know. There was food in the warmer but he wasn't there."
"They probably have him cornered somewhere. Watch out for him, would you? This shouldn't take too long."
"Will you bring him back?"
Mea turned and looked down into her solemn little face reluctantly. She desperately wished she could say yes. "Probably not. I won't force him and he's…just not ready."
The child pressed her lips together and dropped her chin, looking lost. Mea gave her a swift hug and left before she did or said something stupid—like promising to make it all better. Activating the tracer, she moved with long strides across the port on Stone's trail like a shadow in the sun.
Chapter 11
Stone watched the lights from the dance floor flash and flicker erratically in his drink. Every once in a while the reflected light would stab at his eyes, but he didn't look away. The bar was packed with people, gyrating on the dance floor or socializing around the bar, but there was an obvious space around Stone. He radiated a certain menace that had people detouring warily around him.
He didn't know why he was still there. He'd come in the place because the name, End Game, seemed to fit his mood, but it was loud and crowded, and the erratic flashing lights hurt his eyes even through the goggles. He'd sat at the bar and ordered a drink, but hadn't touched it.
Instead, he concentrated on not winging it into the crowd like a missile. Holding himself still, he watched his drink turn color and tried to picture killing the hunter. He couldn't do it. Every time he got to the part about putting his hands on her, the picture would turn much more erotic. And that was his whole problem. He wanted her. She knew it and used it, taunting him with it every chance she got. She also knew he wouldn't hurt her. He had no idea how, since he hadn't known himself until he'd tried. Pulling his knife out, he held it against his forearm to hide it from the crowd and eyed the trace of blood on the blade. The best he'd been able to do was nick her. The memory of her stretching her arms above her head defenselessly, baring her throat to his knife, and watching him fearlessly with those green eyes made his whole body burn. It also pissed him off.
Using sex to lure men in was the oldest female trick in the book, but like the android had said, no one could say no to her. He couldn't deny that she was probably the most beautiful, blood-boiling woman he'd ever seen, but that just made her the most dangerous woman he'd ever seen. She knew what she did to men—she knew what she did to him. Most of the men at the bar on the moonbase would have given their right arm to have her. She had a willing android at her fingertips and an ex-husband panting after her who looked like an ad for the rich and perfect.
He was an escaped convict with an ugly mug and a bad attitude; there was no way she could want him for anything but deceit. He just didn't know what that would be. Maybe she was going to blame the genetic switch on Conley since she used his codes. But no, that didn't make sense. Maybe she wanted him to assassinate somebody—killing was what he was good at. Whatever it was, it was likely that he was going to end up frying for it. He wasn't too keen on the idea. Survival was his strongest instinct, and it was telling him to get the hell away from her. As far away as possible.
Trouble was, that meant leaving the kid. He wasn't ready to do that until he knew she was well on her way to being settled with a family. Until she didn't need him anymore. He didn't try to analyze why; he just accepted that he had to watch over her.
He was wondering just how the hell he was going to do that and stay away from Mea at the same time when he sensed someone approaching. It was a woman. She smelled of alcohol and cheap perfume.
"Hi! You look lonely. Wanna dance?"
He turned his head slowly to look at her. She was attractive enough—blond hair carefully arranged, decent features, skimpy blouse and short skirt covering a nice body—but she also smelled like desperation.
"No."
"Aw, come on! You didn't come here just to stare at your drink, did you?"
"Go away," he said without infliction and turned back to his drink.
"You don't know how
to dance?"
He ignored her, wondering if she was stoned or just stupid. When she leaned in closer, he decided it must be both.
"How about a good, hard screw?"
Habit made him pull the knife.
"I said" —he jammed it with brutal force into the bar and let it quiver there while she jumped with a high squeak— "go away."
The woman had no time to react before a shadow cut between them. It was Mea.
"Okay, I think this one's a little too much enraged masculinity for you, sweetheart." She grabbed the other woman and turned her back to the crowd, actually sounding amused. "Why don't you run along?"
The woman went in a hurry, and Stone scowled as Mea snagged his knife from the bar. The artificial bartender approached, but she waved it off negligently. Leaning against the bar, she gazed down at the knife, and he saw her lips twist when she caught sight of the trace of blood. The mark he'd made on her throat was still there.
"I tell you I love you and you go looking for trouble. Not very flattering, Stone."
It wasn't any easier to hear the second time. Love wasn't even a concept he understood, let alone believed in, and he sure as hell didn't believe this woman could care for someone like him. Careful not to touch her, he plucked his knife from her hands and tucked it away. Turning back to his untouched drink, he tried to ignore her tantalizing scent.
"Leave me alone, Hunter."
"Well, I would, but you owe me a life and I'm here to collect."
He raised his head slowly. Here it comes, he thought. The end of the game.
"You can repay your debt to me with a promise." She studied his face carefully.
He recognized the darkness in her eyes, but didn't understand it. It looked like pain.
"Be good. Stay out of trouble. Promise me that and—you're free."
What the hell? Bewildered, he just stared at her. More games?
"Promise me, or I'm your new shadow."
That was definitely a threat. Grinding his teeth together, he searched desperately for a catch. There had to be one, but if there was, he couldn't see it.
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