“As to that.” Estap punched in a code at the left side of his desk and the top right drawer opened. He withdrew a thick, dull necklace. The links appeared stiff and unbendable, leaving no gaps. “This should help.”
Estap held out his hand and she claimed the necklace. Heavy, unbendable, as she’d thought. Warm. “Where did you get it?”
“I have connections. A.I.R. doesn’t even have one of those, as it’s still in the experimental stages.”
What the hell was inside it, then? “Am I supposed to wear it?”
“No. You’re supposed to collar him. We’re hoping that the electromagnetic pulses from the metal will keep his body from dematerializing.”
Ah. She nodded in understanding and placed the necklace on top of the folder. Sometimes the only way to distract or relax a man enough, or to even get close enough to him, was to get naked with him. Just like Estap wanted.
If she slept with another man, she would lose Jaxon forever.
You’ve already lost him.
Logically, she knew that. But hope was a silly thing, just as she’d always known, and she didn’t want to completely destroy the dream that maybe, one day, she and Jaxon could be together again. Would be together. That hope could only lead to disappointment, but she had no other reason to get herself out of bed each day.
“What kind of time frame am I operating under?” she asked.
“Everything needs to be done yesterday.”
“Understood.” One day I’m going to cut out your heart. The thought swam through her mind, and she nearly grinned.
His lips thinned into a grim line. “Do not disappointment me this time, Le’Ace.”
An underlying threat of punishment hung in the air. As if she didn’t know. As if she didn’t live with the knowledge on a daily basis. “I won’t.” After I cut out your heart, I’ll cleave the head from your body.
Estap’s phone buzzed, disrupting the uneasy silence that had developed between them.
Frowning, he glanced at the number and waved his fingers at the door.
She was dismissed. You’re going to die begging for the final blow.
The phone buzzed again as she stood. Like this, she was at eye-level with all the plaques and photos adorning his walls. He’d attended private school and an Ivy League college. He’d been military, considered a brave solider and natural leader.
No one else knew what lurked underneath his confident, affable persona. To him, she was nothing, a fly. A rug to wipe his feet upon.
The phone buzzed again.
She hadn’t moved, she realized. What was wrong with her lately? Never before had she withdrawn into her mind so much, losing touch with her surroundings. She turned on her heel.
There were two exits in Estap’s office. One led to the lobby and his administrative assistant, aka current lover. The other led down a private corridor, hiding those who passed through from prying eyes.
As always, she took the private exit.
“Senator Estap,” she heard, and then his voice faded completely.
The hallway was empty, silver, and narrow, and her footsteps echoed a kind of drumbeat of doom. Jaxon would be searching for Nolan, too. They might even cross paths like she craved. Could she handle it?
Bigger question: what would she be doing if—when—he showed up?
CHAPTER 17
Three days later
The plan to capture Nolan was finally in motion.
Jaxon sat in the corner of a bustling restaurant, shadowed by faux green plants and the constantly opening and closing kitchen door. Waiters and waitresses buzzed back and forth. Chattering voices echoed, melding into one loud tolling bell. Murky light flickered from candles, and those candles seemed to be the spacious building’s only source of illumination.
Not expensive or exclusive, but not a cheap dive either, the Pearly Gates fed an eclectic mix of human and alien, young and old. Only thing the patrons had in common that Jaxon could tell was that they were middle class. If he had to guess, he’d say the bulk of people worked construction, in education, or were in the military.
Jaxon blended in perfectly. He wore a cropped black hairpiece, very armed forces. He wore enough rubber makeup to cover his scar and slightly realign his facial features so that, hopefully, Nolan would not recognize him without careful study. His shirt was cut off at the shoulders to reveal the “God and Country” tattoo he’d colored in a few hours ago.
Beside him sat Mia. He watched the front door, and Mia watched the kitchen while they pretended to be a couple, like any other couple, eating dinner out because they were too tired to cook after a hard day’s work.
Dallas and Devyn had a table on the other side of the restaurant. Jaxon planned to tease Dallas about being the alien’s best girl later. Eden, golden Raka that she was, drew too much attention, so they’d left her inside the surveillance van with Kyrin, who also drew too much attention.
Kyrin had money, probably more than Jaxon, and was the former king of his world. Women would have recognized the otherworlder and fawned over him, and then Mia would have whipped out her pyre-gun and killed them all.
The woman had a temper.
Lucius scouted the sidewalks and surrounding area. The former government assassin might be able to expertly alter his appearance, but there was no hiding the I’d-rather-kill-you-than-talk-to-you gleam in his eyes, which would have scared all the little kids.
“Give me a test vocal,” Eden said in his ear. “We had static and lost the signal for several seconds.”
While he could hear her clearly, he knew no one else could. Well, no one but Mia, Dallas, and Devyn, who wore tiny, hidden earpieces as well.
“What do you want to drink, sweetheart?” he asked Mia, leaning into her like a devoted husband.
“Dr. Chatty, you’re clear,” Eden said.
“I’d love a Coke,” Mia told him.
“Ballerina Barbie, you’re clear,” Eden said.
Jaxon pressed his lips together to cut off his smile. A spark of fury blazed in Mia’s bright blue eyes. He waved the waitress over and placed their drink order.
“Know what you want to eat?” the woman asked.
“We need a few more minutes, don’t we, Barbie?” he said, and the woman padded away in exasperation. They’d been difficult customers. Mia pinched him under the table.
Eden had given everyone in their group nicknames; Jaxon figured Mia deserved hers. Once, years ago, a new recruit had strutted through the A.I.R. doors telling everyone to call him Mad Dog. Mia had immediately named him Kitty, and that’s the moniker that had stuck. So if Eden wanted to call her Ballerina Barbie, he’d climb on board that train and do it, too.
In his ear, Jaxon heard Dallas say, “I’m freakin’ starving, man.”
“Chuckles, you’re clear.”
Devyn replied, “I’m so hungry I could eat that woman over there.” He pointed to a busty brunette.
As if sensing his scrutiny, the woman glanced up and caught the alien’s attention. Devyn waved. Returning the gesture, she bit her bottom lip. She was a pretty thing with dark hair and dark eyes, and she radiated sensuality.
The man in front of her, probably her boyfriend, followed the direction of her gaze and scowled.
Dallas popped Devyn in the back of the head.
Frowning, Devyn returned his attention to where it belonged. “What?”
“Pay attention to your own date, asswad.”
“Casanova, you’re clear,” Eden said. “Recording…now.”
Jaxon’s ultimate goal was to capture Nolan. However, he had no idea how to trap the alien and prevent him from dematerializing. That being the case, he planned to record this particular Schön’s voice, no static, no question it was him like before, enabling Jaxon to follow him until the end of time. If he so desired.
Drinks arrived a few minutes later, and he and Mia placed their order, purposefully choosing the items requiring the most bake time.
“He’s come here four nights in a row. What if he decid
es to skip tonight?” Mia asked with a smile, as though she were commenting on the weather.
“He won’t skip.” At least, Jaxon didn’t think so. “He knows how to hide. Obviously. He revealed his location. He’s decided it’s time to talk.”
“At least we know he’s not recording us,” she muttered.
That had been Jaxon’s first thought, actually. Nolan might profess to want to help, but it was hard to trust a species responsible for the destruction of several planets. And so Jaxon and the others had spent hours casing the building, using their tools to search for illegal cameras and microphones.
They’d found nothing.
“I can’t wait to meet him,” Mia said, stroking her butter knife like she would her lover.
“Remind me never to piss you off.”
Mia leaned into him, her mouth right at his empty ear so that none of the other agents could hear her. “The only thing you could do to piss me off is date the murdering whore.”
He nearly snapped his fork in half. “Say that again, and I’ll stab you.” The words emerged through a tight smile.
“Where has your loyalty gone? Answer that, at least.”
He merely glared at her. Once the Schön were destroyed, Jaxon had already decided to devote all of his time and energy to finding and freeing Mishka. He was tempted to go after her now, the case forgotten, but his reason for not doing so still stood.
He didn’t want her ordered near the Schön.
His fake smile turned feral and he couldn’t help it. Mishka’s safety came before her freedom. Whether that was wrong or not.
Mishka was his. She belonged with him, and he belonged to her. Every day that passed, that knowledge became clearer. He wanted her moved in, her clothes in his closet, her toothbrush beside his on the bathroom counter. He wanted to wake up to her every morning and make love to her in every room in his house.
“Relax,” Mia muttered. “I’ll leave your girlfriend out of this.”
“She’s been through a lot, okay? Things you don’t know, don’t understand. So don’t talk about her.”
“Whatever. Do you love her or something?”
Was this love?
He still didn’t think so. He told himself he couldn’t love a woman who could be ordered to kill him, who could do it without hesitation. But that seemed to matter less and less. He told himself he couldn’t love a woman who could be ordered to fuck a million other men right in front of him. But that, too, seemed to matter less and less.
Underneath the orders to kill and to fuck was an emotionally scarred woman who craved affection and acceptance. What every human craved. She’d been denied both from infancy. She probably feared those orders as much as he did, which was why she had pushed him away and denied herself.
As always, thinking about Mishka’s dire circumstances filled him with fury. Not with her but with her boss. Fucking Estap, he thought darkly. I know it’s you. You’re the one. No one else had their hands in the cookie jar. Soon. Oh, yes, soon they would have a reckoning.
“Uh, yo, Dr. Chatty,” Mia said dryly, drawing his attention. “You going to pay attention anytime soon?”
He shook his head and looked over at her. She was smearing butter over a piece of bread that had not been on the table a few minutes ago. The waitress must have brought it.
I’m a sucky agent. “Sorry. What were you saying?”
“I asked you if you love her, decided I didn’t want to know, then told you that you’re a lame-ass date.”
“But you love me anyway,” he told her, and he knew it was true. When the time came, he’d set her straight about Mishka without betraying Mishka. To hurt Mishka was to hurt him, and that’s all there was to it.
“I loved the old you,” she said. “This new you I’m not so sure about.”
“Please. You’d be lost without me. Only five men on this planet can stand you, and I happen to be one of them.”
Her lush, red lips edged into a genuine smile, lighting her entire face. “Damn, but you’re right.”
She possessed a delicate beauty, soft, almost fragile. His first year on the force, Jaxon had asked her out. She’d turned him down flat-out with a disgusted “Hell, no” that made him laugh every time he remembered it.
She was good for controlling his ego, if nothing else.
The double doors pushed open. Jaxon clasped Mia’s hand and leaned back in his seat—relaxed, casual—pulling her knuckles to his mouth as if he hadn’t a care. As if she were the center of his world and he had no other thought but romancing her. Would this be Nolan?
A fiftysomething human male sailed inside, a thirtysomething human female at his side.
When would Nolan get here?
A moment later, the waitress arrived with their food. Heaping bowls of pasta alla Pecoraro. The scent of hearty sauce drifted to his nose, and he inhaled deeply. His mouth watered, though he wasn’t hungry.
“Can I get you anything else?”
“We’re good,” he said, and the waitress wandered off.
Mia forked a bite, chewed, swallowed. “This is tasty shit. I’ll be coming back for sure.”
He agreed. This was his first time here, but it wouldn’t be his last.
“So,” she said after consuming another bite. Her gaze shifted to the kitchen door, and he knew someone was exiting. When she continued speaking without pause, he knew it was merely a member of the staff. “Your girl gave you some weird information I’m not sure I understand.”
He knew the girl in question was the infected human he’d interviewed. “I’m not sure I understand, either.” Unless the virus somehow allowed infected humans to communicate with one another through their minds.
Seemed impossible. But impossible things happened every day. Aliens, once considered something of myth and fiction, now walked the Earth. Dallas had once been resurrected from the dead. Mia had a steady boyfriend who didn’t want to kill her.
Only way to confirm the possibility of mind-talk, however, was to join the infected and thereby the conversation. No thanks. If the women could communicate with each other, could they also communicate with the Schön?
And if they could, what were they telling the aliens about A.I.R.?
So many questions, so few answers.
Two waiters holding large trays of food passed him. Jaxon performed a quick, stealthy scan of the restaurant, looking for anything out of the ordinary. All was still in order. People were still eating, drinking, and laughing. There was a line of patrons winding to the ladies’ bathroom, and there was a small mass congregated in front of the doors, waiting for a table.
“I think we’ve spotted him,” Eden suddenly said in his ear.
Both Jaxon and Mia stiffened, looked at each other.
“If it’s him, he just turned the corner down the street and is heading your way.”
“You sure?” Mia asked, though she directed the question at Jaxon as if they were still in the middle of a stimulating conversation.
“I was told to watch for an alien that was handsome beyond belief and tempted me to leave the love of my life, so yeah, I’m pretty sure.” The last was uttered with a dreamy sigh.
“I’ll kill him,” Lucius growled in the background.
He must have gone back to the van, Jaxon thought.
Eden gave a delighted little laugh. “He’s not alone, kiddies.”
“How many?” Jaxon asked, a ball of dread sinking to the pit of his stomach.
“Three. Two human men and a human female.”
Under the table, his hands curled into fists. No. Fuck no! She wouldn’t have; she couldn’t have found Nolan first. “Describe,” he managed to grit out.
“Tall, muscled and—”
“Not the men.” His gaze latched onto Mia, who was watching him intently as she forked another mouthful of pasta. She did not look smug. She looked murderous.
“A prostitute, from the appearance of her. Thin, wearing a napkin instead of a dress and a fake-fur jacket, even though it�
�s summer. Booted heels the size of a mountain. Without them, she’s probably…five ten, five eleven. With them she’s a giant. Short black hair, cut like a boy’s. Tan skin. Dark eyes, I think.”
Wrong hair, wrong eyes, wrong skin tone. Right height. And he knew well how gifted Mishka was at disguises.
“Rings?”
Pause. “Three on one hand. Two on the other. I might not recognize the woman, but I recognize the rings.”
Shit. His dread intensified.
“Entering the restaurant in five. Four. Three. Two.”
The doors swung open and yep, in stepped Nolan. He looked the same as before, too handsome to be mortal, only there were dark shadows under his eyes. He had his arm slung around the prostitute’s shoulders, his big body blocking her from Jaxon’s view. Every nerve ending he possessed was on alert as he waited. Move!
Nolan spoke to the hostess.
Earlier, they’d hidden a mic there.
“We now have his voice in the database,” Eden said excitedly. “Maybe we can use it to track the others. Maybe there are similarities in their voice frequencies.” Crackling static, then, “He’s requested his usual table in the center.”
Jaxon watched as two human males took residence behind Nolan, their expressions leery, guarded as they scanned.
Hired protection?
Nolan had to know A.I.R. would be here. That’s what the alien wanted, after all. Also, he had to know two humans would mean nothing. Pyre-fire would cut through them like a knife through silk.
Nolan didn’t glance around or seem concerned in the least as the hostess led him deeper into the restaurant. That worried Jaxon. Could mean the alien knew something he didn’t. What?
Nolan kept the prostitute hidden, shielding her by keeping her slightly behind him and to the side. Purposefully? Women turned to stare at him. Even the hostess was not immune. She cast him lingering glances over her shoulder. Her nipples were hard, her limbs shaky. Several times she tripped over her own feet and bumped into tables.
Then, the group reached their table and Nolan moved out of the way.
Jaxon found himself staring at Mishka. His heart slammed against his ribs, bones nearly cracking. She laughed up at something Nolan had said, revealing perfect white teeth.
The Alien Huntress Series Page 46