1606010948-Palace-of-the-Jaguar-Womack.doc

by Palace of the Jaguar (lit)

  Gun laughed, moving out of her way as she went from closet to dresser and back again. “Donavon, I was teasing.”

  “I wasn’t.” She took a powder-blue sweater from the closet. “I’ll be ready in a couple of minutes.”

  “No hurry.”

  Ali had put up with guys teasing her for years. What was her trouble now? Yeah, she was hurting because of the end of their relationship, but that wasn’t what drove her sudden inability to cope with small problems. Time to cut out the bitch stuff and stand up to whatever was thrown at her.

  Pretending Gun wasn’t watching her, Ali put on the sweater and a pair of cotton briefs. Being warm mattered more than feeling sexy today. The zipper on her jeans refused to budge, and Gun was on the spot, helping her pull the stubborn thing closed.

  He was a smart man. He’d seen her frustration and exited the room without any other reckless comments.

  Damn, he’d been right. She had bulked up a couple pounds in the waist. No more double-chocolate cake for her.

  She looked around the door of his room to see him checking the cash in his wallet. She couldn’t help but smile. He was so damn good-looking and so damn male. Go ahead, love him, but don’t hug that feeling too close. A tingle of loneliness played through her heart and she had to say something to break its grip.

  “Hey, Gun. You fixed okay for money?”

  She had never seen it before, but Gun seemed a little embarrassed. “Well, sure I am.” He grinned and shoved his wallet in his back pocket. “You offering a loan?”

  She shrugged. “Yeah, sure. We look out for each other, don’t we?”

  He picked up his weapon and buckled it to his waistband. “I’m fine. How about yourself?”

  “Never better.” Now how stupid was that? He wasn’t asking about your health. “Where do we start today?”

  She went into her bedroom and put on her socks and boots, tucking her pants into the tops to keep out the snow. He followed, telling her his idea.

  “I thought we might check out a few more porn shops and bars.” He looked ill at ease for the first time since she had known him.

  She grimaced, remembering the foul places they had gone to yesterday. “Sounds like a plan.”

  He nodded and went back to his room to wait. Ali could hear him flushing the toilet and getting his coat. Mundane sounds to almost everyone but her. This was all she would have left to keep his memory close for the rest of her life.

  The crazy mood she was in vanished, and she looked forward to getting back on the job.

  “Let’s go.” She grabbed her long coat from the closet, clipping her weapon to her belt as she crossed the room. Gun rapped on the door before entering. He held her coat while she slipped her arms into the sleeves.

  “Donavon, sorry for being a prick earlier.”

  There was no way she could hide her shock at his unexpected humility. “It’s all right. I was just being cranky. Won’t happen again.”

  He touched her hair, leaning over her shoulder to tickle her ear. “You’re hair looks great.”

  Damn it! He kept her mind so messed up she couldn’t think straight. What did he want? Sex? No, he’d be up front if that was it.

  Forget it, Ali. Get back on your feet and end this warm and dangerous moment

  “Okay, Gun. Shall we hit the bricks?”

  He came around to stand in front of her and tugged her coat together, buttoning it for her. “It’s cold out there, baby. I won’t have time to keep you warm.”

  Damn it. He’d winked at her!

  Ali moved his hands away and walked to the door, opening it with a flourish. She managed a scowl even he could appreciate.

  “Don’t worry about me. I’ve got my fat to keep me warm.”

  He laughed that rich, dark-chocolate laugh of his and hugged her shoulders as they left their rooms. “Want to ride the train this time?”

  “Sure.” She nodded, but felt nervous about the idea. “Sounds like a picnic.”

  “You’re the best, baby.”

  “Oh, shut up. I said I’d do it.”

  He playfully jostled her, his grin fueling her heart into a rapid-fire race to keep up with her hormones. They were going wild.

  Chapter 42

  Gun was eager to get the hunt started. Filth and cold didn’t bother him. He’d seen and been in worse situations. Donavon being in a decent mood for a change helped.

  Hell of it was, he wanted her to think he didn’t give a fuck about her other than being his partner. Crazy, but he wasn’t ready to look past this mission and never seeing her again.

  He slowed his stride. She would never say anything, but he could tell when she was in a quick step to keep up with him.

  She looked sweet as hell with her hair sticking out from under the black knit hat pulled down over her ears. “Donavon, you sure you want to do the train thing?”

  She nodded. “Sure. We’ll get over to Bed-Stuy a lot quicker.”

  He grabbed her hand and held on tight as they hurried down the steps to catch the train.

  The place was crowded with a zillion different types of people going to work, bumming, whoring, or just staring. Gun steered Donavon out of the path of a crazy-acting guy obviously looking for trouble.

  The odorous bastard leered at her and mumbled, “Pretty mish.”

  Gun felt her press close against him and he put his arm out to block the encroacher. “Move on, buddy.”

  Not in the least discouraged, the drunk persisted, “Kish me, honey.” He hiccupped and farted, the smell rotten enough to kill a rat if it came too close.

  Gun tried diplomacy. “Maybe next time, fella.”

  “I wazn’t talking to you, sumbitch.” He reeled closer to Donavon. “I want pretty to do me.”

  That was it. Gun couldn’t hold back. “Jesus, man! You really want a beating?”

  “Nope. A kish.”

  The overpowering smell of sweat and booze seemed to be making Donavon sick. She gagged and covered her mouth, then muttered, “Sorry, but this guy reeks.”

  Right then, Gun was in no mood to consider the asshole was drunk and maybe a little nuts. He grabbed his collar and forcibly moved him away from Donavon. After he slammed the drunk to the wall, security hustled up and took charge, hurrying the guy away.

  He went back to take her hand and thank God he hadn’t been arrested for being a bully. Donavon looked around as if nothing had happened. He wondered for the first time, why he had chosen this line of work. Maybe it was time to do something less crazy and a lot less dangerous.

  Their train was loading when they finally found the right platform. Gun locked his hand on Donavan’s arm, trying to keep her from being crushed. They had to stand and hold onto the straps like experienced commuters.

  Damn. She looked pale again.

  “You gonna be okay, babe?”

  Her voice had taken on a wavering sound. “Must be the motion of the train. I’ll be fine.”

  “Motion, hell.” Gun leaned down to murmur against her ear. “It’s all these latrine smells. We won’t do this again.”

  The rest of the ride was uneventful. People got on and people got off, shoving each other like the place was on fire. Keeping Donavon away from gropers wasn’t easy.

  She seemed to take it in stride after he stood in a fortress position behind her. After a few minutes of being pressed to her warmth, he told himself it was for her protection. That was bogus crap.

  Having her close enough to smell the orange-blossom perfume in her hair lifted him off the ground. Regret stabbed through him, the thought of his empty future didn’t sit well. Gun turned his head to stare at the blur of advertisement flying past the windows.

  The train stopped at their station, and Ali looked around the winter-dulled street with some trepidation. She hated the streets and their forbidding appearance. Reality of the moment was worse. Maybe it was the raw, cold wind and sleet biting her cheeks. Neither the miserable weather or the surroundings of Chauncey Street

  see
med to touch Gun.

  While he walked along with his easy stride, she forced her stiff muscles to relax and silently vowed to move to Arizona the first chance she got.

  They walked a few blocks, not talking. Her mental planning was put on hold when Gun stopped and touched her shoulder.

  “This is one of the places the bartender mentioned.” He peered through the grimy window in the door of the bar and shook his head. “Let’s see what we can scare up.”

  She unbuttoned her coat and followed him inside the joint. The smell that hit her in the face held years of accumulated body odor and cheep booze. The sewer smell made her wary.

  This place was worse than the first. Dimly lit and extremely narrow, Ali wondered if the dive had ever passed a fire code. The dark, lacquered bar ran the full length of the wall. Bar stools were the only place to sit.

  There was a dark green-painted trellis separating the bar from the poolroom at the back of the place. The lights were off in the gloomy back room. That made her nervous.

  She stood at the end of the dreary-looking bar while he questioned the bartender and several patrons. He bought drinks and passed around his pack of cigarettes.

  Watching his expression and body language, she knew Gun loved what he did. He was relaxed, animated, and hot.

  “Donavon.”

  She jerked herself out of a sensual fantasy. “What?”

  Gun’s smile was mischievous. He had the uncanny ability to read her emotions, could see the lift and fall of her desires. “Want a cola or something?”

  She shook her head and moved closer to him. “I’m good.”

  His sexy grin echoed the depth of his blazing ego and total male arrogance. “I know.”

  He turned back to his newfound friends and ordered them another round.

  Ali waited a little impatiently for him to wrap up his questioning, but he knew what he was doing. She recounted the customers. Four — and now someone was in the poolroom. She unclipped her weapon from her belt and held it down against her thigh.

  There wasn’t time to alert Gun to trouble. The mirror behind the bar splintered and blew out in a crystal spray. Ali caught a fleeting glimpse of two men in dark clothing, using the grillwork screen as cover while they fired several rounds into the bar.

  The street-smart customers dove onto the floor.

  Gun ducked and motioned her to hit the deck, but she ignored his directions. She would never let these two creeps go without a fight.

  Another spray of slugs tore into the wall behind her and demolished the lighted beer ads in an explosion of glass and smoking wires. The sound nearly deafened her. Gun had reloaded and edged toward her.

  She hunkered down, aiming her weapon at the privacy screen, and fired. Sliding along the wall, she fired several more rounds into the dark room, hearing things shattering as the slugs left her nine-millimeter automatic.

  Close enough now to see what they were reloading, she yelled at him. “They’re out of ammo. Hit them now.”

  She charged toward them, firing with the intention of taking them down. Something forced her into the wall, knocking the breath out of her. She realized Gun was running by her, not waiting for her to back him up! “Damn you, Gun!” He didn’t answer, but emptied his weapon into the dark where the two men hid.

  Gun shouted in frustration. “Damn it! They’re running!”

  Without waiting for her, he busted through the screen and out the wide-open back door.

  Ali tore after him and slid on the icy bricks.

  She heard Gun a block away, ordering the shooters to put their fucking hands up, identifying himself as a Federal Agent.

  Her blood seemed to freeze in her veins. She fought to fill her lungs and cried out in anger, refusing to fall on the thick ice that covered the bricks underfoot.

  The bitter wind grappled with her long coat, working against her like a sail, holding her back.

  “Damn it!” she cursed in frustration, but ran on.

  The muscles in her legs tensed, and relaxed, pushing her into a breathtaking sprint that carried her the length of the desolate alley.

  Another firefight broke out and quickly quieted. Regaining her footing, Ali raced to the end of the passageway where he stood, rage flushing his face.

  “Fuckers tricked me by throwing their heavy coats aside. They probably mingled with the bums hanging around that fifty-gallon drum they use for heat while I backtracked a few doors.” He turned to look at her. “I have an idea they ran between those two buildings.”

  She reloaded her PPK, and he pushed another full clip in his automatic. “Let’s get after them before they leave the area.”

  He grimaced. “They won’t walk out if I can help it.”

  They moved fast, following the hoods for several blocks. The rush of blood in her ears deafened Ali when they stopped.

  The place could have been a scene straight out of an old movie. Dark and wet with steam rising from sewer grates and trash tumbling ahead in the frigid wind.

  An open side door meant someone had gone through in a hell of a hurry. She followed Gun inside the apparently vacant building, struck by the amount of trash littering the long hallway.

  She steeled herself against a natural distaste for rodents, keeping quiet when two large rats skittered over her feet.

  Most of the doors to the first floor apartments had been kicked in or were missing all together. She tensed at every sound, and plastered herself against the wall, constantly watching the sagging doors and stairs ahead of them.

  Turning to keep a rear guard kept her busy, hearing every sound in the long-deserted building. Her head hurt from craning her neck and looking in every direction, rarely blinking.

  Checking all the units took time and turned up nothing except liquor bottles, used condoms, and hypodermic needles. The lull had to end, and it did so abruptly. They checked the apartments, moving on to each next unit, until she caught the scent of something familiar and frightening.

  “Where’s the smoke coming from?”

  He sniffed the already foul air and looked out a broken window. “Come on! They’ve torched the place!”

  Fire! Ali’s mind raced with the fear of burning alive. The odor of ancient, moldy wood afire filled the narrow hallway. She didn’t quibble with him when Gun shouted at her.

  “Give me your hand. Hurry!”

  His fingers closed around her wrist like a steel glove as he pulled her along the smoke-filled hall. She coughed, attempting to see through the blue-gray haze billowing from floor to ceiling.

  Panic hit, fear of being locked in the blazing trap by the two thugs they had chased into the building.

  “Gun!” She yelled at him, worried he couldn’t hear her with things starting to fall from the upper floors. “Around the corner. I remember the door!”

  He was close to dragging her behind him, his long stride getting them to the main entrance and closer to escape.

  She choked again, the air thick with a stench she couldn’t take into her lungs, and cried out in surprise and pain when she ran face first into a wall. He jerked her back against him and ran toward the light a few yards away.

  “Donavon, we’re almost out.”

  She stumbled. He pulled her up to stagger along beside him, toward escape and life. He tried to cover her head with his jacket, but it was of little help. He gave up and worked on opening the heavy entrance door.

  “Donavon.” He was coughing now and moving her away from the chain-locked door. “We have to find that window again.”

  Ali could hardly breathe, not hearing all of Gun’s words as he called for help while they searched for a window. He led her around a corner and stopped.

  “There it is, Donavon.”

  “What if it’s blocked, too?” She was close to heaving now. She wheezed and ran toward the window.

  “Get out of the way!”

  He acted quickly, taking powerful strides as he ran toward their only hope. He yelled at her again. “Move!”

 
; She stumbled back, barely able to see him. He ran past her, leaping up to kick out the window. The shattering sounds of breaking glass seemed far away, but his loud command jarred her out of a fog.

  “Donavon! Wake up, and let’s get out of here!”

  Smoke barreled out the gaping hole in a thick cloud, spiraling as it rushed for freedom.

  Ali ran for the window. Gun caught her in his arms and tossed her outside where she landed in a snow bank. She gasped and sucked in the clean air. He quickly followed and crawled to where she lay.

  He pulled her up, and they ran down the alley to the front of the building. Sirens wailed a short distance away and several winos stared at the smoke billowing from the tenement building.

  Ali knew why Gun was in a rush to leave the scene. They didn’t have a reason to be there that they could share with the local authorities.

  A city bus stopped for them, and she clambered aboard, grateful to have a way out of hell.

  They found a seat near the rear exit door. Ali sensed his stare. Would he ever stop looking at her? She knew her face was grimy and her hair full of ash. She pretended to study the graffiti-scrawled advertisements along the walls.

  Gun gazed at his scrappy partner with new appreciation after they settled into their seat. He also couldn’t believe the shit they had gone through in two short days. What was wrong with him?

  Letting those fuckers catch them in a crossfire that had taken him completely by surprise. Not only had he failed to figure it out quickly, he had been damn close to getting Donavon killed. Twice in a matter of hours.

  Looking at her right now, he knew how hard his future was going to be. Causing her more pain and risking her life again was not an option. If he tried to take off on his own, she’d just tail him. No, there must be a better way of handling the problem.

  Gun caught her quick, sidelong glance and figured the time was perfect to break the long silence.

  “We’ll catch a cab once we get out of the neighborhood.”

  Her cheeks were streaked with smoke, and her hair sported a fine net of soot. On her, it was stunning. Her answer was a nod and a fleeting smile.