by Janice Jones
“You look great, actually, even in that get up.”
“She tried to throw me off a building,” Sebastian replied as he lined up a shot. “I’m fine though; thanks for asking.”
Coop chuckled, doing a double take. “I told you to be careful.”
“I was careful,” Sebastian smiled.
“Well, she let you live, so she must like you.”
“Can she like me less, ‘cuz that hurt.”
They both laughed as Coop turned, stepped up to Alex and placed his hand to her cheek.
“So, how long has it been?”
She pushed his hand away and smiled. “Not long enough.”
“Ten years,” Coop sneered down on her. “You missed me. Admit it?”
With a shy bat of her eyelashes she stepped closer to him. “I missed the rash I got from poison ivy on that mission to that rainforest more.”
“I did offer to scratch it for you, but . . .” he chuckled.
That collective laughter just irritated her. And Coop circling her like a buzzard didn’t help the matter any.
“Nice place. Meth den closed for the evening, I’m guessing,” Alex said.
Once Coop was back in her face, his smile faded and his pupils dilated.
Every vein in his neck and upper arms popped out at once and she could smell the change immediately, excitement—sexual excitement to be exact. His own Tracker brand etched over that vein in his neck; she remembered when they were all marked for life.
“Just trying to make you feel at home,” he chuckled.
“What’s the emergency, Coop?” Alex asked as he continued to move his eyes like he would his hands if she allowed him to touch her, ever. “I’ve had about all the excitement I can stand today. Stavros shows up at my office. Ramsey summons me back to the fifties for a little chat and you send the boy wonder to bring me to this shit box for a talk. I’m here, so talk.”
“The box is gone,” he hummed, turned and sat down on the edge of the pool table.
“What box?”
“The Sandbox.”
“When?”
Coop grinned. “January.”
“It’s been gone almost a year,” she frowned.
“Three years to be exact,” he smiled at her.
She laughed, but what she really wanted to do was find the quickest way off the planet. That cryogenic crypt was supposed to be virtually impenetrable. The only way to open it was to remove one of the four biometric cylinders used to seal the lock. But not just any one of the cylinders, it had to be the right one, and only three people knew which cylinder would open the cage.
Sandbox was the name of the mission to capture Tristan Ambrose. As the leader of Hellclaw, he commanded the largest of the vampire clans back then. Hellclaw pretty much stuck to the classic vampire persona. They hunted humans for fun. Fed without permission or regard. Tristan broke every rule the Council of Pure Blood Vampires handed down. Life within the walls of his compound was that of legend. Weird devices used to slowly extract blood from the victims were found after he was captured. As Alex remembered, walking around that place was like being on a horror movie set. It gave her chills to think of it even now.
Coop laid a cue stick over his lap and held it at both ends as he stared at her. All the movement behind her had stopped. Except for the Best of CCR on the jukebox, no one made a sound. When she looked into the mirror on the far wall behind the tables, all eyes were on them.
“He’s been loose all this time,” she said. “Why come to me now?”
“The body in Vegas was one of the hybrids,” he replied. “And that makes two.”
If she started running now, maybe they wouldn’t catch her. But once you start, you never stop. And there really was nowhere she could go that they wouldn’t catch up to her eventually.
“That’s too bad,” she whispered.
“So, I need your help,” Coop replied.
“Can you connect the deaths to Tristan?” she asked as her stomach began to flip. “Do you even know where he might be?”
“Not yet,” Coop answered, “but . . .”
“Then, no.”
Before she could step away, the slim end of the stick struck her cheek and snapped her head to the right. When a drop of blood landed by her toe, she smiled as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She ran her tongue along the inside of her mouth as her gaze lowered on Coop where he stood.
“Let’s try this again. Two hybrids are dead. I’m not asking you, I’m telling you!”
“Get over yourself,” she grinned.
He’d never actually hit her before, so his backhand, as weak as it was, took her completely by surprise. Someone righted her from behind and she pushed them off as she stepped back in to the line of fire. The taste of her own blood sent adrenaline through her entire body.
“Don’t fuck with me, Alex,” Coop growled in her face. “I’m not in the mood. Your contract isn’t up yet. You still work for us, don’t forget that.”
“My contract doesn’t include helping you clean up your own mess,” she said. “If you lost him, you can find him without me.”
He was fast, but Alex had always been faster. She blocked the right fist as it sailed toward her face, twisted his arm behind his back and pushed him into the pool table.
She turned quickly as one of the twins stepped up to her. He found himself on his knees when she struck his Adam’s apple with a quick jab, taking his wind. Then the other tried to force his foot into her right side, but she caught him by the ankle, jerking him forward. With the front of his shirt in her fist, she slammed him down on the small table that shattered like it was built from toothpicks. When her fist came down, it landed squarely on his chin.
The Latino, muscled and angry, attacked next. He pulled her away by the collar then shoved her into the wall. She dodged the right jab and he was stuck, up to his elbow in the sheet rock. Alex forced his head into the wall and his perfect nose exploded on impact. He howled like a wounded dog.
Suddenly, almost iron arms wrapped around her from behind.
“Okay, you win,” Sebastian growled. “Don’t make me hurt you!”
“Haven’t you learned?” she groaned with a hard stomp to the arch of his right foot. “I like it rough!” She heard the bone break over his roar as she turned to face him.
Too quick for her to dodge, the back of his hand crashed against her cheek and stars danced through her head. Like a top that spun out of control, Alex landed in a heap on the dusty floor with Sebastian over her with a guilty look on his face. For some reason, he reached down to help her to her feet and he was too vulnerable for her to ignore.
She saw two of him, so she split the difference and went for it. With enough force to move a small car, she planted both feet in the center of his chest and watched him fly through the air as if attached to a wire. Everyone in his flight path scattered.
He stopped because he crashed into the jukebox; otherwise Alex was sure that kick would have sent him straight through the wall and brick on the other side, no problem. But she was glad it was silent now, even if it took the destruction of a really nice machine like that.
The chair splintered over her shoulder and she was on her knees.
Coop jerked her up by her collar with some effort. When she landed on the pool table, he stood over her as he rubbed his shoulder. “This is a direct order. You remember those, don’t you?”
“Vaguely,” Alex laughed up at him. “What I do remember, clearly, is I never took them from you!”
“This order isn’t coming from me.”
“Then who?”
“Secretary of Defense.”
She swallowed hard, pushed his hand away from her chest and sat up. “I don’t take orders from him anymore either.”
He let her swing her legs over the side, but kept her in pla
ce at the edge of the table.
“I’ll let you tell him that,” Coop smiled. “Meanwhile, we’ll meet with Jason Stavros, in Vegas by the way, then . . .”
Her finger touched his lips and she shushed him. A playful and sexy grin moved over her face as she slipped down from the table. Coop shuddered when she kissed his cheek softly, stepped back, and shook his head slowly.
“I already got threatened by Stavros this morning, so save it. Whatever you’re doing to keep them happy and hidden is not my business. I’m not going!”
“Don’t think I’m not above having you arrested on live T.V. to get you on that plane,” he smiled back.
“Go home Coop and take the Power Rangers with you. You were supposed to keep Tristan on ice and the hybrids alive. If it was him, then that’s their blood on your hands. If the Council gets wind of what really happened, I’m not gonna stand in front of you when the shit hits the fan,” she said as she turned.
The young men, beaten and bloody, blocked her attempt at a really cool exit.
“If this is Tristan’s work,” he said, “he’s not going to stop until he gets what he wants. I saw film from the Sahara. I can’t imagine what it must have been like to walk through that for real.”
“No, you can’t,” she whispered again.
“Then help us, Alex,” Coop replied. “I know you still see that in your dreams.”
She did sometimes still see the bodies Tristan and his followers left in their wake. Mothers and fathers fed upon by their own children. The children Tristan turned into monsters to amuse himself. When Night Command had to destroy them, Alex couldn’t shake the images from her head for a long time. They were all pretty messed up after that, Alex most of all.
Pure cold anger filled her at the thought. If she gave into it, she’d put Coop’s head through a wall. Instead, she just stared at him. He smiled and gave her a small salute. “Let her go. That’s an order.”
They parted and she passed between them at a leisurely pace.
Once Alex was outside, she stepped up to a large SUV.
She took a deep breath, slammed her left shoulder into the side of the vehicle and stifled the scream she desperately wanted to let out. Her shoulder snapped back in place with a low pop and she sighed. Inside the safety of her own car, Alex let out another long breath and headed home for a handful of painkillers and a bottle of Jack so she could sleep.
If Coop were smart, he’d be gone by morning, but he wasn’t actually known for his smarts. Sending a rookie after her was dumb. The old Alex would have killed him without a second thought, sent the ashes back to Area 51 in a FedEx box. But Alex wasn’t as impulsive as she once was. She thought about every move she made at least three times before she actually made it. It was safer that way.
As she walked through her living room, she grabbed that bottle of Jack, then stepped out onto the balcony. Her view of the sky was filled with stars and the darkness beyond them. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Once the white noise was shut down, she could focus on the sound her heart made. The easy rhythm she’d grown accustomed to had been replaced by a sound she didn’t like; the sound of fear.
On top of the city, nothing had ever hurt her. Nothing could enter unless she allowed it and she never allowed anything in she couldn’t control.
Besides, other people’s thoughts rattled her lately. Here the only thoughts were hers.
But with Coop and the Tracker team here, trouble had entered the world she had carefully constructed all those years ago. And that voice in the back of her mind she tried to ignore, wanted—needed—to be heard now. It screamed for attention like a spoiled child as her head pounded and her teeth chattered.
When her smartphone vibrated in her lap, the voice stopped.
“Hey, what happened to you tonight?” Ivy chirped. “You missed a great game.”
“Sorry, I got caught up on something,” Alex replied.
“You work too much,” she giggled. “You’re the boss, you know. You have people that can do that for you.”
“Yea, well, I like working.”
She heard Ivy sigh.
Alex took one last look at the city as she pushed her battered body from the chair.
“Yea, well, there’s a difference between work and what you’re doing,” Ivy laughed.
“Next game, I promise,” Alex replied on her way back inside.
In her bedroom, she kicked the beat up Chucks off her feet, put down the almost empty bottle as she sent them flying in to the corner. She pulled the t-shirt over her head and it landed on top of the baggy camo shorts she let drop to the floor by the bed.
Inside the bathroom, she flipped on the light and stared at her own reflection.
“Yea, yea,” she heard Ivy say. “Promises, promises. So what was so important you blew off your bestie?”
“Just going over some stuff for the launch, that’s all.”
“You’re not a very good liar.”
“Don’t tell anybody, okay?”
Ivy didn’t laugh that time. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Alex . . .”
“Listen, I gotta grab a shower so . . .” Alex tried to laugh.
“Call me when you’re done. We can talk like we used to, all night if you want.”
“Can’t,” she answered. “Kinda tired. How about we meet for coffee instead?”
She heard that sigh again. “Sure, see ya in the morning.”
Alex hung up before she got out the ‘bye Al’ she always ended their conversations with.
The hot water bounced off her body at a soothing pace. Her head dropped forward and she welcomed the water streams as they ran over her scalp and down her face.
After, as she prepared for bed, she hoped the pills would kick in soon.
She climbed between fresh, cool sheets. Alex held her phone in her hand as she scrolled through the phone book for the right number. No names, just numbers. She knew every number by heart and to whom they belonged by looking at them. She found the one she needed, sent a text and settled into her pillow.
Alarms and other countermeasures in the penthouse had been checked and double-checked; no one would sneak up on her tonight.
Alex pulled the blanket up to her chin and closed her eyes.
As the dull ache of her head began to ease, it was replaced by the voice that echoed deep inside her brain. That small voice was sending a warning she couldn’t quite hear, like trying to listen through a wall or keyhole, the words soft and barely audible to her inner ear. Nothing irritated her more than trying to either silence it, or turn up the sound so she knew what to do next. Once she could make out the warning, she was surprised at the message: You have to go or people will die. The voice hardly ever went against her on anything. It had always kept her safe and off their radar. Now it was telling her—no, ordering her—to go back to a life she barely escaped. Find out before it’s too late.
_______________
Jason and Adam waited patiently for them to call, video screen and speakerphone ready.
When his assistant put the call through, Jason sat back on the sofa and Adam turned the entire chair around to see.
Only Coop’s image appeared on the screen. “Gentlemen,” he smiled, drink in hand. “Nice evening.”
The first thing Jason noticed was his busted lip. Although it wasn’t puffy, it was split and still bleeding. The sight of fresh human blood triggered something deep inside him. He and Adam sat back in their seats at the sight.
“Cooper,” Jason replied trying not to look at the tiny streak of red on his mouth as he smiled. “What happened to you?”
Coop cleared his throat, licked at the fresh blood and rubbed his bruised chin with a grin. He adjusted himself in the chair and waved the others over from off screen.
When his battered team s
at down, Jason laughed and Adam just stared in disbelief. Sebastian was shirtless, an ice bag on his ribs. His pale skin was purple and yellow and they all moved slowly, more slowly than any of them should have been. Xavier held a matching ice bag to his nose and the twins had black eyes and blood on their clothes.
“What the hell happened?” Adam huffed as he emptied his glass and slammed it on the table. Coop held up his hand when Sebastian opened his mouth to speak.
“Alex happened,” Coop answered. “We had a slight misunderstanding.”
“I can see that! But what happened?” Adam huffed again. “Did she bring help?”
“Not exactly,” Coop shook his head. “I’m gonna need a couple more days.”
“You’ll be dead in a couple more days,” Jason laughed. “What’s the hesitation?”
“Obviously whatever you threatened her with just pissed her off,” Coop chuckled. “I asked you to let me handle this.”
“And look what happened. You got your asses kicked by a girl,” Jason continued to laugh.
“She’ll do it, don’t worry,” Coop replied. “I just need a couple more days.”
“One day,” Jason huffed. “I’m giving you one day and then we go with a better plan. Mine.” He hung up on Coop and took the drink his assistant had prepared for him.
Chapter 12
Ivy always felt dirty after. No matter what she told herself, she just felt dirty. She pretended it was the conversation that had kept her interested in this relationship for so long. But that was the lie she’d repeated so many times that it had almost become truth before she knew it. It was the sex. And not just sex, but sex that defied anything she’d ever experienced with a mortal man.
For the entire game, all she could think about was getting here, being with him in all the ways he could think of, and now she hated herself.
She stumbled from the bed and into the shower; his fingers missed her arm as she rushed from his side. Under the harsh spray, wave after wave washed away his scent and sweat, but there were things not even a hot shower could wash away, not completely. She could scrub and scrub and it would always be there just under the surface. Shame.